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Camilla Ch. 001

By: MawrGorshin



Camilla had had a crush on Mr. Grisham, her grade 12 English teacher, ever since she saw him walk into the classroom on the first day of the second semester. That he was about forty, and she'd just turned eighteen, didn't bother her at all: she'd always had a thing for older, distinguished, intelligent men. He was tall, blond-haired and blue-eyed; she found him devastatingly handsome, even though he had a slight gut. She had a burning curiosity bordering on obsession: to find out what he had hanging behind the zipper of his pants.

She could also sense that he lusted after her, not that she needed her impressively accurate intuition to tell her. During class time, when he had all the girls discussing a novel or poem in class (theirs was an all-girls Catholic school), he would walk about the groups ostensibly to make sure they weren't talking about anything else; but whenever he came by Camilla, he always felt this boldness, not at all knowing where he got his nerve from. He'd come into physical contact with her, tactfully enough to make it seem accidental. On one occasion, she felt his hands caress her thighs: it gave her a thrill of pleasure; she breathed heavily and closed her eyes; she then quickly pretended to sneeze so the other girls wouldn't suspect anything. Her panties absorbed some moisture, too.

However objectionable his desire for her may have been on moral grounds, he had every reason to want her from a visual standpoint: she was lovely. She had long, curly blonde hair, expressive blue eyes, a large, firm bust, and sinuous curves. She was a short, sexy little pixie in her schoolgirl uniform, her plaid miniskirt draped over a pair of buttocks that would make callipygian Venus envious. Though she had never viewed her own nether regions in a mirror, she had been reliably told by previous lovers that her vulva and anus were as delectable as her sensuous lips. These compliments encouraged her to become a lap-dancer at Luvlee's, the local strip-joint, as soon as she turned eighteen. She was also encouraged by these compliments to consider initiating some passion with Mr. Grisham.

'Considering' initiating that passion would soon swell into a determination to satisfy her curiosity about his trousers' inner secrets. Again, as with Mr. Grisham's boldness, she had no idea where she'd got hers from.

On the day that she finally made a move on him, she had been in a terrible fight with her mother. It was during lunchtime that her mother discovered Camilla had become a lap-dancer, and naturally her mother's reaction to this lurid news was one of shock and disapproval. At home, her conservative mother had shouted the most abusive language at her, and returning to school thirty minutes before afternoon classes were to start, Camila went into her English classroom in tears, tears to rival the downpour of rain outside.

Except for her and Mr. Grisham, no one was in the classroom. She locked the door so no one could get in and see what they were doing.

"Camilla, what's wrong?" he asked as she walked up to him and held him tight. He was just getting up from his chair when she forced him down by sitting on his lap, facing him. She put her face on his shoulder and sobbed.

"I had a fight with my mommy," she wept. "She was so mean to me. She said the meanest things."

"What did she say, sweetie?" he asked, embarrassed by his growing erection.

"I don't wanna talk about it. Just hold me, sir. Please. Hold me." She started rubbing her bra-less breasts against his chest.

"OK, baby. Please don't cry." He put his arms around her. The softness of her rubbing bosom was offset by the hardness of his phallus. She felt it poking out in a big bulge from his pants. The tip of it was massaging her clitoris: only her panties, his pants and boxer shorts were separating their genitals, and the material of each of those three articles of clothing was very thin. "No more tears from that pretty face," he sighed, pulling his right hand back to wipe a tear off her face. She shifted her chest to the left, when his hand had come back past her arm, and he 'accidentally' caressed her left breast...oh, how delightfully soft it was! Blushing, he said, "Oh, sorry, Camilla."

Not even batting an eye, she said, "That's OK, sir." He wiped a tear off her cheek, then put his arm back around her. "I must look so silly, eighteen years old and crying like a baby," she giggled between sobs. She was rubbing aggressively against his pointy phallus. Paradoxically, she was in emotional agony and sexual ecstasy at the same time. Paradoxically, he was being a kind, avuncular comforter and a lecher at the same time. Gyrating their crotches in rhythm to each other, they were practically having intercourse right there, except for the sheer screen of their clothing.

"It's OK to cry," he moaned and panted, moving his hands in circles around her back. If she had been wearing a bra, he would have found it irresistible to pull on the strap and snap it against her back. She vaguely sensed his desire to do so.

She could guess, with remarkable accuracy, the size of his erect penis. She guessed it at somewhere between six and seven inches (actually, it was just over six and a half when fully erect). It also seemed to be at least one and a half inches in diameter. Camilla now had even more reason to admire her teacher. The moisture her panties were absorbing was accumulating, and her sobbing was now moaning.

He, too, was moaning: "I'm sure...you'll make up...with your mom...soon...and resolve...this problem...whatever it is..."

"No...it won't...be resolved...I hate her..."

"Oh...don't say that..."

"I'm moving out...I'll find...my own...apartment..."

"Do you...really think...that's...necessary?..."

"Yes!...Oh!..."

A large amount of moisture was absorbed now, not only by her panties, but by his pants, too.

"What the?..." he asked.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I came."

"The kids are gonna be coming soon," he said. "I'd better get to the washroom and clean up. It's a good thing I'm wearing black pants." They got up.

"I'll come with you," she said. "I gotta pee. I should help clean you up; it's my fault you're all wet." After using some tissues to wipe away the foamiest of her orgasm from off his pants, they left the classroom together. As they walked down the hall towards the nearest teacher's washroom, Mr. Grisham held a book in front of his pants.

Making sure no one saw them, they went in the washroom together and locked the door. She pulled her panties off and put them in the sink. They were soaked in her vaginal fluid. She ran some water over them, and they were essentially clean again, pink and pretty. She was happy to let her teacher see them. She left them on the side of the sink, and sat on the toilet.

She pulled her miniskirt up so he could see the urine pouring down from between her wide-open legs, but she didn't want him to see her vulva...yet. Her plan was to have him see her stripping at Luvlee's. She wanted him to see her nakedness in the most theatrical way possible.

"I always have to pee really badly after I come," she whispered, giggling and smiling up at him as he looked down at her and watched the yellow line spray into the water of the toilet bowl. When she finished, she took some perfumed wet napkins from her purse and wiped her vulva clean with them. "I hate it when my vagina smells," she whispered, giggling. "Now we should clean you."

She used other, non-perfumed, wet napkins to clean the wet spot on his pants. He still had a bulging phallus. She got off the toilet, leaving it unflushed. He looked at her pretty yellow urine in the toilet bowl as she, squatting and eye-level with his groin, wiped him clean.

"It's really not fair that you gave me an orgasm, but I didn't give you one," she whispered, panting with lust at the bulge in his pants as she touched it with the wet napkin. "Do you want to put your penis in my mouth? I'll suck it for you," she offered, looking up at him with wide-open eyes, and gently biting the bulge.

"As much as I'd love that, we'd better stop for now, or we're going to get caught," he said. "I'm clean now. Thank you."

"Thank you," she said, getting up, hugging him tightly, and rubbing her belly again his phallus. "You were so sweet to me."

Looking at her panties on the sink, he said, "Sweet in more ways than one."

"Yeah," she giggled, a few tears still rolling down her cheeks in remembrance of her fight with her mother. She picked up her panties, and instead of putting them back on, she stuffed them in his shirt pocket. Pulling on his necktie to bring his face to hers, she whispered, "They're my thank-you gift to you." She pushed all of her lips on his left cheek in a sensuous kiss, held the bulge in his pants and squeezed it, and walked out of the washroom, making sure no one in the hall saw.

After locking the door again, Mr. Grisham pulled the panties out of his shirt pocket with his left hand. He looked at the area that had been caressing her vulva all that day. With his right hand, he unzipped his pants, pulled out his phallus and began to masturbate over the yellow in the toilet bowl. That urine was the sweetest-smelling to him, because it was hers.

As Camilla walked back to class, feeling a soft breeze under her miniskirt, a gentle breath caressing her bare vulva and buttocks, she grinned and said to herself, "He's mine."

Camilla Ch. 002



Camilla did move out of her mother's home (Camilla's parents had divorced when she was six). Now that she was making lots of money as a lap-dancer, she could easily afford her own apartment. Furthermore, she and a friend shared the rent. In fact, she'd been looking for a place a few weeks before the fight with her mother. The day after she turned eighteen, she got the lap-dancing job at Luvlee's, and immediately started looking.

Now that she was settled in her new place, the day after her encounter with Mr. Grisham, she was feeling much better; she was also ready to make things spicier between her and her teacher. She walked into her English classroom early after lunch, long before the others would come to class, so again she and Mr. Grisham were alone. She locked the door and walked over to his desk, where he was sitting and grading homework.

With that same inexplicable boldness as she and he had the day before, she sat on his lap, facing him. "Camilla," he said. "We shouldn't do this here..."

She put her finger on his lips and said, "I know. We won't do anything here now, but I want to say thank you for yesterday. You were so sweet and kind to me." With her extraordinarily accurate intuition, she sensed his fantasy: to be with a shy, submissive girl, and she played the role perfectly. She gave him her new name card, with the Luvlee's address on it, as well as her cell phone number. "This is why I had a fight with my mom."

"You're a lap-dancer?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," she answered, 'shyly' looking away, and with a naughty smirk.

"Sweetie," he said, concerned, "what do you want to do work like that for? You're a smart girl. You don't have to do that for money. Stay with your mom and go to university after you graduate."

"Stripping can pay for my university next year," she insisted. "Easily. Besides, I've already moved out, and I'm not going back." She started grinding on his erection.

"Camilla, think it over," he sighed. "Do you really want...a bunch...of beer-guzzling pigs...ogling you?"

"It's not so bad," she said. "A lot of...the men are...really nice. Oh!"

"You'll run into...some rude types fast." He put his hands on her behind.

"Luvlee's has...bouncers for that." She pulled up her miniskirt so his hands would touch her panties, which were now all that was separating his fingers from her buttocks. "Do you like that better?" she asked, still grinding.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned, squeezing her buttocks. "Maybe I should...go over there...and see you." He pulled on the top elastic of her panties, let go, and let it snap on her behind. She let out a sharp but gentle moan in response, looking in his eyes in a way that told him she would permit him to do that again.

"I'll be there tonight," she said to encourage him to come to Luvlee's. "From 6:30...to 1 AM." She continued to grind on his phallus, feeling its tip massage her clitoris as it had the day before. Feeling his right hand move up her back and touch the strap of her brassiere, she said, "You can snap my bra if you want."

He snapped it hard against her back, and she let out a light grunt from the sting she felt on her spine. "Sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"It's OK," she said. "You can do it again; I don't mind. I want to please you."

"So you'll be there tonight?"

"Yes, from 6:30...to closing time."

"OK, I'll be there." He smiled at the prospect of seeing his lovely student in the nude.

"Really?" she giggled 'shyly'.

"Yes." He moaned in pleasure at her grinding. "I can't wait."

"Oh, God," she blushed. "My teacher's gonna see me naked."

"OK, wait. Maybe I shouldn't come."

She frowned. "You don't wanna see my body?" She stopped grinding for a few seconds.

"Oh, no, it's not that. It's just that I don't want to make you feel embarrassed."

She started grinding again. "Oh, only a little embarrassed. But I'm a little excited, too." She giggled and turned her head away. "I worry that you'll see a flaw in me."

"Oh, nonsense. What flaws could...a beautiful girl like you...possibly have?"

"I dunno. Maybe you won't like my nipples. Maybe you'll see a blemish...on my skin that I...don't know about. Maybe I have...too much pubic hair. Maybe not enough."

"I'm sure you'll look like a goddess," he insisted.

"Really?"

"I'll be worshipping you."

"Oh, sir, you're so sweet to me." When she reached forward to kiss him on the cheek, he moved his head so his lips met hers. They paused in surprise. Looking in each other's eyes, they saw only approval. Pressing their lips together, they plunged their tongues inside each other. Their tongues rolled and slid along each other. Mr. Grisham put his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them. She put her hand on his phallus and pinched it. He grunted in delight.

She got up, turned around, and flipped her skirt up so he could see her pretty white panties, which tightly embraced the round contours of her perfect buttocks.

"White today, eh?" he asked approvingly.

"Yeah," she said. "Do you like 'em, sir?" She pushed her buttocks out at his face, and swayed her behind from left to right.

"Yes, I do. You don't seem so shy about showing yourself off now."

Her miniskirt still up, she bent over so she was looking, between her legs, back at him, and she said, "Well, if you're gonna see me naked, seeing my underwear's only easier." She put her finger over her panties where her clitoris was and tickled it. Her legs spread wide apart in the shape of a lambda, she studied his eyes, looking back, upside-down and between her legs, to see if what he saw pleased him. This was all-important to her. She was happy to note that, indeed, he did like what he was looking at.

Then she sat on his lap with her back to him and rubbed her buttocks against his phallus again, but this time more aggressively. "This is what it will feel like, sir," she groaned, looking back at him. "Only it will be...my bare bum...massaging your penis. Oh!" she moaned with pleasure.

They heard voices in the hall. Mr. Grisham looked at the clock: it was 12:50. Class would start in ten minutes. "Uh-oh," he said, pushing her up off his lap, however reluctantly.

"That's OK," she said. "We can continue this tonight." She turned around and flipped her miniskirt up so he could see the front of her panties, which hugged her crotch tightly in a delicious camel-toe. He couldn't resist touching, and after fingering and tickling her where her clitoris was for a few minutes, "Oh!" she orgasmed.

"Go to the washroom and clean yourself up," he said. "Hurry, before we're seen together." She quickly left the room. He got some tissue and wiped up any drops of her come that got on the floor.

Seven minutes later, class started. Camilla and her teacher were fortunate that no one saw them together; he, however, was unfortunate that he had to let his erection, not five minutes ago like the barrel of a shotgun, shrivel into total flaccidity. He hoped for better things that night.

Camilla came into class two minutes late: cleaning took longer than expected. Pretending to disapprove of her tardiness, he said coolly and sarcastically, "Camilla--how good of you to join us."

"Sorry, sir. Here's my homework," she said, giving him a duo-tang with an essay inside. She sat at her seat, in the front row right before his desk. He wisely didn't open the duo-tang then.

He spent the first half-hour of the class discussing Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. He pointed out the importance of the Induction's relationship to the play as a whole, interpreted the play's themes, and discussed its controversial attitudes about the sexes. Admiring, as she saw it, his erudition, she gazed into his eyes with her hand on her cheek, sighed, and thought, He's so amazing. When discussing a witty exchange of dialogue between the play's two most unlikely lovers, he quoted Petruchio's line to Kate: "What, with my tongue in your tail?". Seeing Camilla smirk suggestively at this quote, he blushed.

Soon, he gave the girls a writing assignment. Now he could sit at his desk and look at the homework, Camilla's duo-tang being on top. He opened it, and saw her damp but cleaned white panties fall into his lap. Obscured by the duo-tang, they weren't seen by any of the girls, but Camilla saw his reaction.

A few minutes later, when he'd noticed her legs wide open, he 'accidentally' dropped his pen on the floor between his and her desks. He went over there and got down to pick the pen up. Full of lecherous expectation, he was fortunate to find it just under her desk; looking under the desk to pick it up, he was, however, unfortunate to see her crossing her legs at that very moment. He'd just missed seeing her vulva: she'd timed her leg-crossing precisely. Getting up with the pen, he saw her smirking, her eyes telling him he wouldn't get to see until that night.

This girl isn't shy, he thought. She's a tease.



Camilla Ch. 003



It was about eleven o'clock that night at Luvlee's, and Mr. Grisham still hadn't arrived. Camilla, about to go onstage and do her third and last striptease for the night, was getting anxious: was he going to come at all? She was really hoping he would come when she was going onstage so she could slowly reveal her naked body to him in a gradual, dramatic way. This being her last time onstage, and him still having not arrived, she was losing hope.

Normally she went onstage full of joie de vivre, having already spotted at least a few reasonably attractive male patrons in their late thirties or early forties (her preferred age for lovers) for whom she could enjoy undressing. This time, however, she wanted to get naked in front of only one handsome man, and it seemed as though he wasn't coming at all. She walked onstage in black high heels, a lovely black evening gown, and a brightly made-up face, including ruby-red lipstick, but also with a frown on her face.

Because of her downcast spirits, she danced to her first song with uncharacteristically mechanical movements, though all the men watching her (as well as a few lesbians) didn't seem to mind. The dress was low-cut in the front to display her magnificent cleavage, and slits along either side of the dress revealed her silky legs.

By the end of her first song ('Sexy MF', by Prince), she'd removed her dress to reveal the same white lace bra and panties she had worn to to school that day, those Mr. Grisham had played with (he'd given her back her panties first thing after class, saying he wanted to see her strip out of them that night). Again, because he still hadn't arrived to see, this was the first time she was to remove clothing reluctantly. Still, her audience was thrilled. During her second song, 'Horny', by Mousse T. and Hot 'n' Juicy, she removed her bra (at the first chorus) and her panties (near the end of the song) with the same reluctance. The crowd cheered. When the song ended, she removed her high heels, with her back to the audience.

When the third song (Madonna's 'Justify My Love') began to play, she turned around to face the audience. As she walked to the front of the stage, she saw Mr. Grisham standing by a chair at 'perverts' row', right by the stage. And he saw her. Naked from head to toe.

With a thrill going up her spine, she felt his lustful eyes burn her as they looked up and down her body. For the first time, he saw her soft, round breasts--those smooth, creamy vanilla scoops topped with raspberry nipples. He saw that small, fluffy tuft of brown pubic hair on her mons veneris, her milky legs, and those ten grapes of toes on her pretty feet, upraised, only the balls of which touched the stage. Breathing heavily, she shivered with pleasure as his ravenous eyes studied her nudity. She then turned around so he could se her soft, round buttocks; she turned her head back to see if they pleased him--they did. He wondered what delectable arcanum hid within her anal cleft. He then sat and watched the rest of the show.

She turned around again to face him, and got down on the floor. She bit her lip 'shyly' as she spread her legs. Her vulva looked like the inside of a halved grapefruit, and was just as mouth-watering. There was no hair around it, only the tuft above; this wasn't the result of shaving--her pubic hair was naturally lacking in excess. She pulled her labia apart so he could see her vagina: he wished he had a flashlight. Her legs already as wide open as possible in a vivacious display, she pulled her legs up over either side of her head so he could see her anus--a sweet swirl of caramel. He was drooling in delight.

After giving him a generous amount of time to acquaint his eyes with every delicious millimetre of her (no longer) secret places, she rolled over and got on all fours. Her behind pointed at his face and her legs wide apart, her vulva and anus were again fully exposed for his gluttonous eyes. Again biting her lip in feigned timidity, she looked back at him as he enjoyed what she so willingly showed him; her eyes looked into his, and they said, "This is all for you." Her vulva from behind looked like a small, pink eclair: her labia the ripples of strawberry-flavoured cream decorating the middle of the eclair. Her anus, now open, looked like a miniature, coffee-flavoured donut...or a chocolate Cheerio.

The song ended, and the audience clapped unenthusiastically, annoyed that Camilla gave unfair attention to Mr. Grisham. Leaving all of her clothes at the side of the stage and taking only her purse and panties, she got off stage and approached him.

"Does my body please you?" she asked 'timidly', putting her panties in his shirt pocket.

"You're far lovelier than I'd imagined," he sighed.

"Really?" she giggled. "You must have seen some flaws."

"No, not at all. Your breasts, behind, genitals, even your anus is delicious."

"Really?" she turned around and opened her buttocks so he could see that puckered prune again. "Men like to have anal sex with girls, don't they?" she asked with eyes and mouth agape, affecting childlike curiosity.

"Oh...yeah!" he gasped as he looked at that lovely brown eye. He started tickling it, and she allowed him to continue tickling.

"Do you want to go into a private room with me? As I lap-dance you, you can touch me--all over."

"Twenty dollars a song, right?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to pay: I like pleasing you."

"No, I'll pay, sweetie. What parts of your anatomy are off-bounds?"

"None. I cleaned my vagina and rectum thoroughly before I started, so no matter how deep you put your fingers inside, you won't get any stinky smell, or poo, on them."

"Wonderful," he sighed, and they got up and went into one of the private rooms.

Another song began, and she sat on his lap, rubbing her soft buttocks again his hard, pointy erection. She moaned with pleasure as his hands fondled her breasts and pinched her nipples. Then she got up, turned around, and pushed a knee against his penis. Her breasts went around his face, and she squeezed them against his cheeks. She put one nipple in his mouth, then the other soon after: he sucked most enthusiastically. His right hand went between her legs to stroke her already very wet vulva, and the fingers of his left hand crawled into her anal cleft. She pulled her left buttock wide open so he could have access to her anus. Soon his right index and long fingers were all the way inside her soaking vagina, and his left index finger was all the way inside her rectum. The finger in her rectum massaged the side of her anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall, and this increased her pleasure three-fold. She moaned most musically in his ear, which she also nibbled on, tongued, and blew into.

He pulled his fingers out, and she turned around. Bending over, with her legs wide apart so he could see her vulva and anus only inches from his face, she asked, "Do you wanna have a taste?"

His tongue plunged into her vagina, then licked her anus. Opening her anus, he slid his tongue inside as far as it would go. "What, with your tongue in my tail?" she asked in sighs, paraphrasing Petruchio's bawdy joke from English class that afternoon. After giving her the most vivacious anilingus in human history (so far), he turned the squealing girl around and vibrated his tongue on her clitoris. After a few thrilling minutes of frantic licking, she splashed her orgasm all over his face.

"I lost track of how many songs went by," he said, licking the come off his lips. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "You are amazing."

"Oh, come now. I should pay you."

"You're so sweet, sir." She pulled her legs down and sat on his lap, careful not to wet his pants again, as she had the day before. "So, you want to take me home with you and have sex with me, right?"

"Well...I'd love to. I mean--I don't know where I'm getting my boldness to do what I'm doing with you, risking my teaching career and all. But do you want to?" he asked nervously, careful to get her consent.

"Oh...yes!" she sighed. "Mr. Grisham, my naked body is yours to play with. Do whatever you want with me."

"You shouldn't be so permissive with men. Some are nasty."

"Why not? You're not gonna hurt me, are you?"

"Of course not, sweetie."

"Then take me home with you so I can satisfy you."

It being about a quarter after one in the morning, they left the room, her walking to the door leading outside, still naked. "Don't you want your clothes?" he asked her.

"No," she said. "I wanna be always naked for you. Is your car near here?"

"Yes," he said, not knowing at all where she was getting her boldness from, either. They snuck out the now-closing bar and got to his car, amazingly without anyone apparently noticing her nudity.



Camilla Ch. 004



It was quite an adventure getting a naked 18-year-old girl into his apartment, but Mr. Grisham succeeded. Of course, it being 1:30 in the morning, and everyone in bed, getting nude Camilla from the underground parking lot to the elevator, and from there to his room on the fifth floor wasn't too hard. Besides, the possibility of someone seeing them was as exciting as it was risky. Still, no one saw, and he got his door unlocked and her inside without incident.

From there they made a mad dash to the bedroom. She got on the bed and spread her legs wide open, exposing both her vagina and anus: she wanted him to know he had a choice of three holes as she licked her wide-open mouth. He removed his shoes and started pulling down his pants and boxer shorts. As his underwear came down, its top elastic made his erect phallus spring and bounce up and down quickly. Camilla salivated at the glorious revelation of this circumcised statue.

"He's gonna feel so good inside me," she squealed in delight. "But sir, please don't undress any further. You look so handsome in your dress shirt and tie."

"Okay," he said, and climbed onto the bed. "Get on top of me."

"Yes, sir," she said. He lay on the bed on his back, and held his phallus up as she aimed her vagina from above.

She came down on it, shaking with expectation, and when the tip touched her already wet vulva, she squealed with pleasure. Then she felt the pole start to go in. She let out high-pitched sighs, ever higher and higher in pitch, as his phallus slowly slid inside. The deeper it went in, the higher her sighs got. She was already on the brink of her first of several orgasms: her thrill felt like electricity racing all over her body as his phallus filled her vagina in a perfect fit, no empty space anywhere. By the time it was all the way in, not only were her sex organs stimulated to the maximum, but so were her chakras, all the way up her spine to her head. It was a miraculous, voluptuous, and even mystical sensation, and her orgasm drowned his lap and poured onto the bed. But this was only the beginning.

She, in a frenzy, went up and down on his erection, frantically trying to sustain that emotional high. More orgasmic gushes were soon to come out as she felt his phallus slide in and out, massaging her vaginal walls. She squealed and screamed loudly, amazed at his erection's deepness and fullness inside her. Her screams got so high in pitch, they sometimes reached what musicians call the 'whistle register': indeed, Grisham at times wondered if he was making love to Camilla or to Minnie Riperton. Those eerie cries of the chthonian occurred whenever she orgasmed, at which time her nails dug into his chest: she was like a Maenad rending one of her victims.

An interruption or their ecstasy came with the sound of the doorbell. She got off him, his lap flooded with her come. Not wishing to mess his pants, she helped him take them off. Then he went to the bathroom and wrapped an old, ragged, filthy towel around himself, not minding at all how messy it would get with Camilla's ooze all over it. He went to the door, her standing behind him. He opened it to see the face of a concerned neighbour, a woman in her fifties.

"Is everything all right in there?" she asked. "I heard a girl screaming."

"Oh, everything's fine," Grisham answered with a blush on his face. "My...uh...girlfriend and I..."

"They weren't screams of pain or fear, ma'am," Camilla interrupted to help him out of his embarrassment. "They were screams of pleasure."

A look of understanding on the woman's face showed the problem to be resolved, but her facial expression made his face even redder. "So, you're alright, dear?" she asked.

"Yes. Fantastic," Camilla answered from behind the door so the woman wouldn't be shocked at the lovers' age difference. "Sorry about the noise."

"That's okay, dear," the woman chuckled at how Grisham had gotten lucky with a girl that night. She said goodnight and left. He closed the door.

"Whew," he said. "How many times did you come?"

"I don't remember a number," Camilla said. "But at least five."

"Holy shit!"

"Sorry, sir."

"Don't apologize, sweetie. Actually, I'm flattered."

"You were amazing," she sighed, beaming at him. Almost in tears, she continued: "My lord, my master, my king, my emperor, my god, my Zeus. You made me feel so good: I love you. I love you!" Noting the fear of commitment in his eyes, and sympathizing (since she, too, wanted to be free to experiment with other lovers, in spite of her passionate outburst), she then said, "You don't have to love me back if you don't want to, but I love you." She hugged him tightly and continued. "You can have other women if you want--I don't mind. Just as long as I can touch you and make love with you, at least sometimes."

As they walked back to the bed and he wiped the come off himself with the towel, she continued: "You know what I think heaven is like? Having sex with you for eternity."

"Why me, Camilla?" he asked. "Wouldn't you rather be with someone your own age?"

"No, they're boys!" she said derisively as she helped him remove the come-stained sheet from the bed. Then she looked in his eyes and cooed, "But you're a man."

"I'm old enough to be your father," he said as they took the sheet and towel to the laundry area, putting the soiled items in the laundry basket.

"I like intelligent men your age," she explained as they left the laundry area and went to the bathroom. "You're mature, eloquent, erudite, sophisticated. I love listening to you lecture on literature in class. You say such brilliant things. I admire you so much, sir." They got in the shower stall together and turned on the water.

"There's nothing to admire in a lecherous teacher seducing his teenage student," he said with no scarcity of shame.

"Sir, I seduced you. Don't worry: no one will know." she squatted and peed down the drain. He adored her curving behind as her urine below mixed with the swirling water.

They washed the come off each other's crotches, got out of the shower stall, dried themselves, and went back into the bedroom.

"I guess we should sleep," he said. "It's almost 2."

"Don't you want more fun?" she asked as she got on the bed, on all fours with her legs spread open so her vagina and anus were in full view.

"Camilla, you'll scream again."

"Not if you put it in my bum," she offered, pushing her behind out to make her pretty brown puckered anus the focus of his attention. She looked back at him to see his reaction: his hitherto flaccid penis started hardening again.

"Won't it hurt?" he asked.

"I have anal lube in my purse," she explained. "It won't hurt if you smear that all in my rectum and on your penis."

Reaching for her purse, looking inside, and taking the tube of anal lube out, he asked, "Why are you the perfect fantasy?"

"I want to please you, sir."

He got on the bed and squirted some of the lube on his fingers. After smearing some on his now fully-erect penis, he put some more lube on his index finger and pushed it in her anus. She gently moaned with pleasure.

After thoroughly smearing the lube all over her anal walls as deeply as he could put his finger, he slowly and gently pushed his phallus against her opening anus. He slid his member inside, slowly and cautiously, fearing that he'd hurt her. When it was all the way in, and his pubic hair was tickling her anal area, he grunted with delight. This was his first anal sex with a girl: he'd always dreamed of a girl willing to let him enjoy this, but had never imagined the dream would come true!

This wasn't, however, her first time to permit a man to sodomize her. When she'd gotten the job at Luvlee's, she received anal sex several times from her boss. His penis was small and thin, so she didn't worry about discomfort. She was now acquainted with the sensation of a phallus burrowing away inside her rectum, and was even starting to enjoy it. Grisham's phallus stroked where her anal wall touched her vaginal wall, and she moaned in gratification. He thrilled to the feeling of her anal lips tightly clasping his penis as he slid it in and out. It was such a filthy hole, yet beautiful in its filthiness. Finally, it was his turn to ejaculate; he pulled his spent member out of her anus. Satisfied but exhausted, they lay down and went to sleep.



Camilla Ch. 005



The next morning, Camilla woke up before Mr. Grisham and took a shower, thoroughly cleaning away his ejaculation from her rectum. Then she went into the kitchen and made breakfast for him, which she served him on a tray in bed: bacon, eggs, and toast, with a glass of orange juice. She gently woke him up, and holding his knife and fork for him, she even fed him.

"Why do you feel I deserve to be treated so well?" he asked. "Why do you seem to enjoy being so servile?"

"Because I worship you, sir," she said. "You're so intelligent and knowledgable. The sophistication and maturity of age is something I want for myself."

"The beauty and strength of youth is something I wish I still had," he said, taking some egg in his mouth.

"You can have it in me," she said, cutting a piece of bacon and bringing it to his mouth.

"That's the only way I can have it." He took the bacon in his mouth and chewed it as he said, "when youth is gone, it never returns. Enjoy your youthful body while you can."

"I plan to, sir," she said as she brought the glass of juice to his lips to drink. "But I want a mind of maturity as soon as I can, so I have it in you."

When he finished eating, they went to the bathroom and took a shower together, her cleaning his body thoroughly. She, squatting down, paid particular attention to cleaning his genitals and anus. His erection came quickly, and strengthened when she soaped up his chest, stimulating his nipples.

They got out of the shower and dried each other off. She used his towel to stroke his penis and testicles very gently. His phallus was fully perpendicular to his standing body.

On her knees, she adored the staff that pointed at her face. "I love you so much," she said to his phallus. "You make me feel so good. Please take good care of him, sir. I'll die of despair if anything should happen to him. He's so beautiful."

"But I'm so ugly," he insisted. "Look at this big gut of mine."

"It's not so big," she said, patting it affectionately. "I don't care about your minor imperfections. Please sit on the toilet, sir. Let me please you with my mouth. I've had some practice at fellatio. I'm pretty good at it."

He sat on the toilet, and she knelt between his legs, stroking his erection. "Do you want to splash your come on my face, or do you want me to swallow it?"

"Which would you rather do?"

"Whichever pleases you more."

"On your pretty face, sweetie?"

With a fawning, loving smile, and a servile twinkle in her eye, she said, "You're my teacher, and I must obey you." With those words, she started licking and kissing the tip of his penis, at the hole, never losing eye contact with him. He moaned as he looked down at her adoring eyes, appreciating the sweetness of this girl who looked up to him (both figuratively and literally). She also moaned as she, opening wide, wrapped her lips around his phallus and brought it back to poke the tip against her uvula. She savoured the sweetness of his lollipop lingam, and her eyes, always lovingly fixed on his, continuously asked him if her mouth was pleasing him, and if there was any way she could please him better with her sucking.

Indeed, her mouth was pleasing to him. Her soft lips and tongue caressed the hard-as-steel barrel of his gun, slowly going all the way up and down the shaft. Her tongue tickled the underside of it, and her fingers tickled his scrotum and tapped his testicles, making them flicker, the left and right alternating, in a kicking dance. Her tongue could feel the full engorgement of his erection, and she licked where the corpus spongiosum pushed out from the corpora cavernosa, shaping her tongue like a U around the convexity to embrace it. He grunted in ecstasy.

Her talents weren't limited to the above, though: she demonstrated an ability to control her gag reflex, and deep-throated him several times. She worshipped his phallus so much, she'd have it all. Finally, she sensed his excitement reaching the point of no return, and pulled her head away. After being briefly masturbated by her, he soaked her face with his come. She moaned in willing submission to each splash on her face. Her eyes looking up at him through the foam on her face, she asked, "Did I please you?"

"You...were...incredible," he gasped. "How pretty your face looks."

"I'm glad you like it," she smiled and licked the come off her lips, while some of it dripped off her chin and nose. "I guess we should go to school now."

"Yes, but you have no clothes."

"Then I'll stay here and be your naked sex slave."

"Oh, don't be silly, Camilla. I'll give you a pair of my shorts and a T-shirt, and I'll drive you home. Then you can change into your school uniform, and I'll see you in English class in the afternoon. You gave me some of your panties, remember? You can wear those."

"OK," she said, and got up. He left the bathroom to get the clothes while she washed her face. Later, she went in the bedroom and picked out a dark-blue suit for him to wear, the one she thought he looked the most handsome in. She put on the white panties she'd given him a second time the night before at Luvlee's. She then put on his T-shirt and shorts. Though unshod, she was at least decently dressed, and he took her down to the basement parking lot. He drove her to her apartment building, and they went up to the third floor, where her room was.

In the hall by the door to her room, she started undressing.

"Wait a minute, Camilla," he said. "Go in your apartment first. You can give me the clothes later."

"I don't have my key," she said, now naked except for the panties. "I have to get my roommate to open the door for me."

"All the more reason not to undress. I don't want her to know what we did."

"I won't knock on the door till after you leave, sir." She pulled the panties down from her hips and let them fall to her feet. Then she pulled her feet out of them, turned around, and with her legs wide apart, bent over to pick them up, displaying her vulva and anus one more time for her beloved teacher. She looked back at him upside-down from between her legs, and rubbed her panties against her vulva and anus. Then she stuffed them all the way in her vagina, pulled them out, and straightened up. She turned around and gave them to him with the other clothes. "Here you go, sir."

"You're one wild and crazy girl, Camilla," he said as he took the clothes. "You don't feel at all uncomfortable standing in the hall in the nude?"

"Why should I?" she asked, stretching her arms up and twirling around, hoping to give any anonymous voyeurs among her neighbours a chance to see her body from all angles. "I'm a stripper. Strangers see me naked every day. I don't mind. I like my body. Everybody says I look good nude. Men like to see naked girls, and I like to please them. Besides, this is my home. I'm safe here."

"OK, Camilla, if you insist." She walked him back to the elevator and pressed the button for him. As they waited for it, they embraced, her hugging him tightly as always. She rubbed her belly against his erection.

"I always feel so safe in your arms, sir." The elevator door opened: luckily for Mr. Grisham, no one was in it. He got in and pressed the button for the ground floor. They said good-bye to each other as the doors closed.

"You're so amazing, Mr. Grisham," she said, then turned around.

She didn't want to knock on the door to her apartment just yet: she wanted to be naked in the hall for a while first. She danced around and twirled, singing in a high falsetto, "I am naked; look at my body."

Suddenly, a smiling neighbour opened his door and saw her. Luckily for her, he was forty-something and handsome.

"Hi," she said, smiling and not covering herself at all. Then Candice, her roommate, opened the door, and Camilla went into her apartment.



Camilla Ch. 006



Candice, Camilla's roommate, had always had secret lesbian cravings for Camilla, though Camilla had secretly always known that. Indeed, it seemed as though Camilla could actually feel the psychic vibes of Candice's passion. For this reason, she knew Candice would have no objections to her nudity as she went in their apartment that morning.

"Well, you got your wish," Candice said as she closed the door. "One of our neighbours saw you naked. He seems like your type."

"Do you know who he is?" Camilla asked as she put her purse on the coffee table and stretched, pushing out her breasts to give Candice a thrill.

"He's a doctor," Candice answered, shyly turning her eyes away and controlling her heavy breathing. "His clinic is the one just down the street. He specializes in STDs."

"Really?" Camilla asked, turning around so Candice could enjoy looking, free of inhibitions, at her naked callipygian behind. "Now I know where to go if I catch something. I think I'll get a check-up with him soon. What time is it?"

"7:30," Candice said, again shyly turning her head away when Camilla quickly turned around. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"I think I'll buy a sandwich when we're driving to school," Camila answered. "You know what I wanna do? Shave my pussy. Last night, a customer--a good-looking guy, well-hung (from the bulge I felt when sitting on his lap), and forty-something--says he likes shaved pussies, and I wanna please him. Only thing is, as you know, I'm so clumsy with razors..."

Candice, knowing her cue, offered, "I've shaved mine before; d'you want me to do it for you?" (Candice always--and willingly--shaved Camilla's legs and armpits: each time was a great opportunity to touch her always-nude roommate.)

"Oh, thank you, sweetie." Camilla grinned from ear to ear, and they went into the bathroom together. They put an old, dirty towel on the toilet, and Camilla sat on it, spreading her legs wide open. Candice, with slightly trembling hands, got the razor and shaving cream. This was the boldest she'd gotten with Camilla, nearing her beautiful vulva, something she'd always wanted to lick. She wasn't sure if Camilla knew she wanted her: was Camilla just narcissistic in her exhibitionism, always walking around naked merely because she liked to, or was she deliberately teasing Candice? Was Camilla waiting for her to make the first move, or, if Candice revealed her feelings, would Camilla react like a scandalized homophobe?

Actually, though she never told Candice this, Camilla was bi-curious. She was deeply flattered by Candice's lust, and enjoyed titillating her. Camilla figured the two of them would make love one day, but she wasn't sure if she'd like performing cunnilingus on Candice. Just two weeks older than Camilla, Candice was as beautiful a redhead as Camilla was a sultry blonde: Candice had lovely, ginger-coloured pubic hair, a curvaceous figure, and--in Camilla's opinion--breasts even more beautiful than Camilla's (with date-like protruding nipples); but Camilla wasn't sure if she'd enjoy making love with a girl. She decided simply to make love with Candice when Candice finally gathered the courage to make a pass.

After trimming the excess pubic hair with scissors, Camilla got ready for Candice's razor. Candice tried to control her heavy breathing as she spread the shaving foam on Camilla's pubes. She put her left hand on Camilla's right thigh as she gently started shaving, from the top down. It was hard for her to focus on the hair with Camilla's lovely vulva in plain view, the closest it had ever been to Candice's face. Since Camilla had just showered in Mr. Grisham's bathroom earlier that morning, her genitals smelled fresh and pretty. Camilla kept grinning the whole time, happy to know she was pleasing her best friend. As Candice's razor came down to shave the pubes closer to Camilla's vulva, Candice was more justified in putting her fingers on Camilla's mons veneris: Candice, on her knees the whole time, started rubbing her legs together and rocking her hips from side to side to stimulate her own very wet vagina. Finally, Candice very slowly and carefully shaved the pubes closest to Camilla's vulva, and to keep her hands stable, Candice had to put her thumb right on Camilla's genitals--she touched Camilla's clitoris for the first time! Camilla moaned audibly as Candice's thumb fidgeted to the rhythm of her other shaving hand, and Candice appreciated the sound of Camilla's voice.

Finally, the shaving was done, and Camilla's pubic region was so closely and thoroughly depilated, that it seemed as hairless as a full Brazilian wax. She thanked Candice with a grin. "Where's the ring for my clit?" Camilla asked.

"The captive bead one?" Candice asked. "On your bedside table, where you left it two nights ago. Do you want me to get it for you?"

"Please," Camilla answered. "It takes so long for me to find the piercing and fit the ring in, and we're running out of time, but I really wanna wear it today. Can you put it on for me?"

"Sure," Candice said, trying to hide her enthusiasm as she hurried back into the bathroom with the ring. Now she could get really close to Camilla's vulva, and touch her clitoris again. Camilla grinned at Candice's eager eyes as the ring was slowly, carefully put into place. Camilla squealed with pleasure at the sensation: Candice, breathing heavily (unwittingly allowing her breath to caress Camilla's genitals), looked at and admired Camilla's large clitoris. She also saw a moist hole.

"Thank you," Camilla sighed.

She grinned at Candice's slip of the tongue, "My pleasure."

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Being classmates, the girls drove to school together. Later, during lunchtime, Camilla went into Mr. Grisham's classroom, where he was marking homework at his desk. Again, the two lovers were safely alone. She closed the door.

"Hi sir," she said. "I have something to show you."

"Camilla, not here," he insisted. "I've been thinking, and we have to end this. My reputation as a teacher..."

He was interrupted neither by her words, nor by her fingers on his mouth, but by the sight of her raised miniskirt. Not wearing panties, she exposed her freshly shaven genitals, with the ring through her clitoris. She put her left foot on the desk so she could spread her legs better to give him a good look. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, baby," he sighed as his temptation rose with his erection. "We can't do this anymore."

"You're tense, sir," she said as she got down between his legs. Stroking his penis, she asked, "Do you wanna put it in my mouth?"

"As much as I'd love to, no." He kept fighting the temptation. "We'll get caught."

She slowly unzipped his pants and hid under the desk. She suddenly remembered: she hadn't locked the door! Putting her hands inside his pants, pulling his penis out from his boxer shorts and through the zipper-hole of his pants, she chose to risk being caught rather than interrupt the passion just to lock a door. Besides, the possibility of being caught was thrilling. Licking her lips, she put his phallus in her mouth.

Though there was the unpleasant taste of a recent urination on his penis, she didn't care: the very thought of blowing him in their classroom was deeply arousing. One hand held his phallus while the fingers of the other tickled her clitoris and gently played with the ring: getting the piercing three months ago was well worth it. The woman who pierced her clitoris was a thorough professional, though oddly asexual in the extreme, and she did a masterly job. The increase in clitoral sensation doubled Camilla's pleasure with Grisham. His phallus was rock-hard and almost perpendicular with his bent-over torso. He buried his face in his hands with his twitching elbows on the desk as Camilla slid her lips up and down his phallus. They moaned in unison, as if it was the moaning of only one voice.

This was fortunate, because at just that moment, Ms. Callahan, another English teacher, walked into the classroom.

She didn't see Camilla, who was still hidden under the desk, but Grisham's moaning and jerking movements made her curious. "Is anything wrong, Mark?"

"No," he gasped. "I just have some bad hay fever." He grabbed a tissue and pretended to sneeze. He got more tissue to keep up the pretence.

"Do you have any more copies of that handout of Wordsworth poems? I need some for tomorrow."

"Yes, they're over there." He, still 'sneezing', pointed to the other side of the classroom. Ms. Callahan went over to find them.

Camilla decided to work quickly. Normally she used orgasm-delaying techniques to increase a man's pleasure (as well as to prolong her enjoyment of having a hard phallus in her mouth). Now, excited by the danger of being caught and wanting him to ejaculate while Ms. Callahan was still in the room, she chose to hasten his climax. She kissed, licked, and manually stimulated his phallus frantically while he hid his face in the tissues, with more fake sneezes so his forty-something female colleague wouldn't suspect anything. Having found the Wordsworth handouts, Ms. Callahan turned around and walked back toward the about-to-ejaculate Grisham.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

"Yes!" he shouted as he ejaculated in Camilla's mouth, her joyfully swallowing every drop. Still 'sneezing', he was thrilled and terrified at the same time.

"Well, you don't have to snap at me, Mark," Ms. Callahan said in annoyance, and walked out of the classroom.

He looked down at Camilla, his flaccid penis still in her gluttonous mouth. "You are a...very naughty girl." She put his penis back in his pants and zipped them up. "This is...too dangerous, Camilla. It's over...between us. I'm sorry."

Affecting a broken heart, she said, "I understand," and left the room. She would be okay. She still had her neighbour (the doctor), her Luvlee's customer, and her roommate for potential lovers. She wouldn't, however, have felt so okay to know that Ms. Callahan watched her sexy young body stroll out of Grisham's classroom. 



Camilla Ch. 007



Back in the apartment that evening, Candice sat on the sofa and thought about Camilla, whom she expected to see come home anytime, but was also wondering--and worrying about--why she hadn't come home yet. She knew Camilla wasn't stripping at Luvlee's that night, so unless she was out with that man she'd been with the night before, she should have already come home by now.

Candice was debating in her mind whether or not to make her sexual feelings known to her roommate: through Camilla's constant nudity in their apartment (getting dressed only immediately before going out, and stripping naked immediately after coming in), as well as her often allowing Candice to touch her, it seemed obvious that Camilla was encouraging Candice to initiate a sexual encounter. Candice certainly felt an inexplicable pushing of her will, making her feel almost compelled to tell Camilla how she felt. Still, Candice, always afraid of rejection, even if the chances of rejection were small, was resistant to that pushing, nervous about taking the risk.

She thought about gym class with Camilla that afternoon, when they were in the shower area. It was so tantalizing having Camilla's delectable nakedness standing right beside her and not being able to feast her eyes on it, for fear of the other girls knowing she had lesbian feelings for her best friend. What made the torture worse was how Camilla delayed putting any clothing on for as long as possible, always smiling sweetly as she chatted with Candice. If only Candice had known that Camilla--not having a homophobic bone in her body--would have been perfectly willing to let her friend's eyes pour all over her naked body, freely looking up and down and appraising Camila's delicious breasts, her freshly-shaved pubic region, and her bubbly buttocks. Camilla even gave Candice a chance to get another good look at her vulva when, facing Candice, she sat down and spread her legs to remove the ring from her pierced clitoris before they went for their shower. While many of the girls were annoyed with Camilla's immodesty, two or three of her classmates--other than Candice--also had homosexual feelings for her, and enjoyed the show by getting as many quick sneak peeks as they thought they could get away with. Seemingly psychic Camilla secretly knew of their desire, too, and enjoyed pleasing them.

Finally, at around 9 PM, Camilla unlocked the front door and walked in the apartment. Not two seconds passed after closing and locking the door, and Camilla predictably started undressing in front of Candice.

"Hi," Camilla said as she started unbuttoning the blouse of her school uniform.

"Hi," Candice said. "Why are you only now coming home? It's so late. I was getting worried. Where'd you go after school?"

"I got another job." Camilla pulled her blouse off and unbuckled the belt to her plaid miniskirt.

"Did you quit Luvlee's? I thought you liked it there."

"I do," Camilla said as her miniskirt dropped to her feet. "I'm not quitting Luvlee's. They're closed today because of repairs. The electrical wiring is all screwed, apparently." Camilla turned around, bent over so Candice could see the pretty light-green panties that clung to her bottom, and unlaced her shoes.

"What do you need another job for? You already make loads of cash at Luvlee's."

"I don't need the job, I want it." Camilla took her shoes and socks off. "I'm moonlighting as a masseuse. If the men pay extra, I'll give them hand-jobs." She turned around and unclipped her bra.

"Don't you think your nymphomania is getting a little out of control? Honey, don't get into prostitution. You'll get diseases."

Revealing her breasts with a wiggle, Camilla dropped the bra on the floor. "I'll only jerk the guys off. Don't worry." She pulled off her panties. Completely nude now, she continued. "I'm feelin' blue."

"What's wrong, baby?" Candice got off the couch and walked up to Camilla, who started crying.

"That guy I was with last night, remember? He dumped me. Please hold me, Candice." Though happy to embrace that beautiful nude body, Candice hated to see Camilla sobbing.

"Men are such pigs," Candice said as her trembling hands roved around the soft skin of Camilla's back. "They fuck you, and leave you when they've had their fun."

"Actually, he had a good reason to end it with me."

"What good reason could he possibly have to leave a beautiful girl like you?"

"He's a teacher at our school, and if people knew we were..."

"He's one of our teachers?" Candice let go of Camilla and looked in her eyes with astonishment. "Who?"

"Mr. Grisham."

"Eww!"

"Don't say that. I like him. I think he's hot."

"Really?" Candice sneered in disbelief. "Well, hot is in the eye of the beholder, I guess."

"Don't tell anyone, OK?"

"I won't. Look, just forget about him. I'm sweating. I wanna take another shower."

"So do I. Let's save water again and shower together, OK?"

"Sure." Candice found it increasingly difficult to hide her enthusiasm.

They went into the bathroom, and Candice got naked while Camilla got in the stall and turned on the water. When Candice got in, Camilla was completely wet with her back to Candice.

"Could you rub some soap on my back?" Camilla asked.

"Sure," Candice panted while lathering the soap. Her foamy hands roamed all over Camilla's permissive back, soaping her shoulders, the back of her neck, the small of her back, her spine, and her sides, down to her hips. She didn't dare go any lower, but oh, how she wanted to! To Camilla, her back was being sensually massaged; she moaned with pleasure. To Candice, her hands were making love with Camilla's back; Candice kept her moans as inaudible as she could.

Camilla turned around and said, "OK, your turn." Candice turned around and let her back receive Camilla's soapy hands. Camilla's hands soaped a larger area of Candice's skin than vice versa, hoping to encourage Candice to do the same the next time they showered together. Camilla's hands even touched the top of Candice's anal cleft: Candice let out a light squeal of delight.

They finished their shower, got out of the stall, dried themselves, and went to the bedroom. They were both tired and ready for bed. Though Camilla got under the covers completely nude as always, Candice shyly put on her nightgown before turning off the light and getting in bed (their shared bed was a queen size bed).

Though Camilla knew she'd get over Grisham soon, she was sad because she lacked a lover, so she continued her subtle seduction of her best friend. "Candice? Sweetie? I'm still sad: can I have a hug?"

"Of course, sweetie." Candice wrapped her arms around Camilla.

With only Candice's sheerest of nightgowns separating their naked bodies, both girls sighed in amazement at the softness of their flesh. No wonder men like us so much! Camilla thought. Their breasts, pushing against each other, would make the eiderdown of the best pillows seem like tree bark in comparison.

"Thank you, sweetie," Camilla said, kissing Candice's cheek.

"My pleasure." Candice kissed Camilla's cheek, but closer to her mouth. That pushing of Candice's will was now overwhelming; she couldn't hold back anymore. She pressed her lips against Camilla's and plunged her tongue inside. Camilla completely allowed her friend to continue what became an almost twenty second kiss: she wanted to open her mind to the enjoyment of lesbian love. She got some pleasure from it, but the absence of a penis was something she needed getting used to. Both girls moaned in alternating waves of ascending and descending pitches.

Finally Candice let go, ready to face Camilla's reaction.

"Wow, I was wondering when you'd do that," Camilla said with a smile.

"So it's OK with you?"

"Of course. You're my best friend. Why do you think I'm always naked around you? I like pleasing you."

"Is it OK if I eat your pussy? I really wanna do that."

"You're gonna give me head? Alright!" Camilla grinned from ear to ear.

Candice moaned as she went down Camilla's body: first sucking on each breast for a while, she felt like a child in a candy store, and the treats were all free! Camilla enjoyed the sensitivity of her friend's lips and tongue, a sensitivity no man had ever given her. Then Candice came to Camilla's vulva: her lips and tongue embraced that large clitoris, and sucked on, licked, and tickled it in a salacious frenzy. Camilla squealed, sighed, and screamed with ecstasy; no man had ever given her pleasure like that! It was obvious to Camilla why: only a woman could intuitively understand female anatomy well enough to stimulate it in the best way. Candice's lips, tongue and fingers explored the whole area: the labia, vagina, perineum, and even her anus. This last area surprised Camilla--she thought only men liked that. Still, it was thrilling, and her clitoris was the hardest it had been in a long time. Candice put her index finger about three or four inches in Camilla's vagina, touching the wall that her vagina and urethra shared, to stimulate her G-spot; she put her pinkie in Camilla's anus to stimulate the wall both her anus and vagina shared; all the while, her lips and tongue practically devoured the clitoris. Sometimes Candice blew on it and hummed to give Camilla a buzzing sensation. Just when Candice had moved her face down so she could lick Camilla's anus, Camilla, squealing in the whistle register, finally flooded Candice's face with her come.

They sat in silence for a few minutes afterwards.

"Candice," Camilla panted. "You can...eat me out...anytime you want."



Camilla Ch. 008



Mr. Grisham wasn't the only teacher at Camilla's high school to lust after her. Mr. Hanson was walking by Grisham's classroom during lunchtime when he overheard a tearful Camilla begging Grisham to be with her again. Hanson, feeling an inexplicably stronger urge than usual to be near her, stopped behind the slightly ajar door and eavesdropped.

"Please keep your voice down, Camilla," Grisham whispered.

"I miss you," she whined, affecting the voice of a spoiled little girl, fidgeting on his lap, and pouting.

Putting his hands on her cheeks and looking gently but firmly in her eyes, Grisham summoned all of his strength to resist her and said, "Sweetie, it's over between us."

"Maybe after I graduate in two months, you'll come over to Luvlee's and see me naked?" she asked. Hanson's face lit up from learning that she worked in a strip club.

"Maybe," Grisham said. Satisfied with that answer, she got off his lap and left the room. When she reached the door, Hanson heard her say to herself, "Now I need a new teacher."

This was as much encouragement as Hanson needed. He was a year older than Grisham, as tall as him, not as handsome, somewhat hairier, a little bigger in the gut and had a slightly receding hairline; but Hanson still had hopes that he would be good-looking enough to Camilla to be her new lover. Later, he taught her in history class. He noticed her admiring eyes as he displayed his extensive knowledge of imperial Rome: he was lecturing on emperor Claudius and his promiscuous wife, Messalina. Then he put the girls in groups to discuss what he'd just lectured about, and went around from group to group to hear how the discussions were going. He went behind Camilla and, not at all knowing where he'd got his boldness from, surreptitiously put his hands on her buttocks. Aroused, she quickly inhaled, her heart beating quicker.

Still with his hands on her behind, he asked her group if there were any problems. "No sir," she answered breathily, turning around and looking up in his eyes. Clearly, she didn't object to his errant hands, and he squeezed her buttocks to take advantage of her indulgence of him. She gently grunted with pleasure, and pretended to cough so the other girls in her group wouldn't suspect anything.

I can't believe I actually had the balls to do that, he thought as he walked away from her.

After class, he followed her in the hall as she spoke with Candice, eavesdropping the whole time.

"I can't stand this," Candice whispered. "I wanna grab you right here, tear off all your clothes, and ravish you right in front of everybody."

"Wait 'til I get home tonight from the massage parlour. I finish at 11," Camilla answered.

"So how long is the drive home?"

"Only about ten minutes, sweetie. The place is on Litchfield Street: it's a quick drive home."

Now Hanson knew where to go that night--Bates Massage. He also knew why it was named Bates. What he didn't know, however, was how he could have been so lucky to hear such crucial information, freely given from Camilla's own lips.

That evening, he told his wife he was getting together with an old friend for a few drinks, and would be back home around 11. He had to drive to Bates from the other side of town, so it took him about a half an hour to get there: impatient, he was trembling with anticipation.

When he walked in and saw her by the front desk, she greeted him with an ear-to-ear grin. "Hi, sir!"

"You work here, Camilla?" he asked in feigned surprise.

"Yep," she answered, knowing from his face that he wasn't really surprised. "What kind of massage would you like, sir? Just a massage is fifty dollars; a bath and massage is one hundred."

"A bath and massage, please."

"Okay," she said, still grinning, with a twinkle in her eye to let Hanson know what the euphemism 'bath and massage' really meant, and that she was more than willing to give him this service. "Would you like me to massage you? The other girls are all with clients now."

"Sure." He smiled, and his breathing got heavier.

"Al-righty then: follow me." She led him into a private room. On the right as they went in was the table for the massages, and on the left was the bathtub. A separate room at the back had a toilet. "Do you need to use the washroom, sir? I recommend it. Two hours ago I was massaging a naked man's behind, and he was really enjoying it; then he suddenly broke wind--really loud and stinky. It totally ruined the mood," she giggled.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll use it," he said, went in, and closed the door. As he pulled down his pants to sit on the toilet, he heard her turn on the water in the bathtub.

"In case you're shy, sir, I'll put some bath foam in the water for bubbles," she said. "When you're done in there, come out, take all your clothes off and get in the water. I'll be back in about ten minutes." She left the room to get some soap and lubricant for Hanson's penis.

He finished quickly in the bathroom, came out, got naked, and got in the bath. Since he was proud of his now partially-erect penis, he turned off the water early so it would come up only to his hips, thus leaving his pubic hair and some of his penis exposed through the bubbles.

She came back in the room, and, aroused by his immodest display, giggled with pleasure. "Okay, let's get started, then," she said as she knelt by the tub.

She lathered up the soap and spread the lather on his neck, shoulders and back. Then she soaped up his chest, gently pinching his nipples. He groaned with delight. After that, she moved her hands down to his hairy belly; she stuck her finger in his belly button and giggled. Uncannily, she knew what Hanson's fantasy girl was, just from looking in his eyes: he didn't like the shy, submissive type, as Grisham did. Feeling the vibes she was getting from him, she correctly sensed that he liked the giggling bad girl persona, and she, always the consummate actress, played her part flawlessly. As she soaped up his torso, she frequently brought her hand down to make contact with his increasingly-erect penis.

"Okay, can you get up now, sir?" she asked. "I need to get at your penis."

"No problem." Smiling, he got up, fully exposing his phallus, which was even larger than Grisham's.

"Good: now I can clean your penis and scrotum." Giggling and grinning, she lathered her hands and moved one hand up and down his almost fully-erect phallus, while the other hand soaped his scrotum, tickling his testicles. Admiring his large member, she never took her eyes off of it. Having it close to her face, the always-kneeling girl puckered her lips as if to kiss it. Then she splashed water all over his genitals to rinse them off. "Can you get on all fours now, please? I need to wash your bum."

"Okay." He did as instructed, and she got more lather on her hands to soap up his buttocks and anus. As she rubbed the soap on his buttocks, she frequently squeezed and opened them, exposing his anus, which was brown from his fresh evacuation on the toilet. Getting more lather on her index finger, she put it deep in his rectum, massaging his prostate while cleaning him out completely. His anus changed from brown to pink.

"Now, that's a thorough massage," he groaned. She giggled in response.

After rinsing the soap away, she asked him to stand up so she could clean his legs. As she lathered them up, she stared in adoration at his phallus, which pointed straight at her mouth. He wiggled it at her, and slapped it on her cheeks. She let out a high-pitched giggle at his naughtiness. "You're bad, sir," she said with a grin. He tried to put it in her mouth, but, always a tease, she wouldn't let him. "That's another hundred dollars, sir." Sometimes, she took it passively between her lips for second, but did no more.

Finally, the bath was finished, and she used the shower-head to rinse the remaining soap off of him. First, she rinsed off his back and buttocks. Then, telling him to turn around, she rinsed his front, always staring at and admiring his erect penis. There were a few suds on it, and she held it while rinsing it off, all the while puckering her lips and widening her eyes. Then he got out of the tub, and she dried him off with a towel, gently stroking his genitals.

After that, he got on the massage table. His erection made it difficult to lie flat on his stomach at first, but as she rubbed his back, he grew less erect and thus could straighten himself. She then grabbed his buttocks and vigorously massaged them, often opening them to expose his anus, which she looked at with curiosity. (She had some gay male friends who she knew would like Mr. Hanson, and the idea of her watching one of them having anal sex with her history teacher excited her.) She put her finger into his rectum again, massaging his prostate briefly; loudly grunting, he loved the sensation! Then she massaged his legs.

Finally, she had him roll over and lie on his back. The moment he'd been waiting for was coming! He smiled as she massaged his arms, chest, and stomach. Again, she pinched his nipples and poked her finger in his navel: he sighed with pleasure. The closer her hands slowly got to his phallus, the heavier his breathing got. She massaged his thighs, legs, and feet, never taking her eyes off his erection. The suspense and sense of anticipation she created by saving the best to last was done calculatingly: she knew her delays and lustful staring would keep him fully erect without her even needing to touch his penis, though she obviously wanted to. This way, her own sense of anticipation kept her vagina as wet as a laboratory vial filled with water.

At long last, she started gently massaging his scrotum and testicles: her movements made his phallus rock back and forth like a tree branch during a typhoon. Then, as she started touching his penis, he suddenly remembered: he forgot to go to an ATM before coming to the massage parlour! Did he have enough money in his wallet? "Can you pass me my pants, please?" he asked her. "I want to see how much money I have."

"OK: remember, the whole thing is $100." Not taking her hand off his penis, she bent over and picked up his pants. He took out his wallet and looked inside: he had only 54 dollars!

"Oh, no," he said. "I don't have enough."

"Oh, well," she said, taking her hand off his penis. "No 'happy ending' for you."

He got off the table and stood up before her. "Look, Camilla. Do you like it?" he asked, looking down at himself.

"Oh, I like him very much," she answered, always looking down at his penis and smiling. She tickled it from underneath with her index finger, gently bit her lip, and giggled.

"Well, can you do me a favour and just finish me off...I mean, if you like 'him' so much."

Smiling slyly and enjoying being a cock-teaser, she cruelly said. "Nope." When saying this, she gently slapped his penis from underneath and giggled as it bounced up and down.

"Why not? What do you want to give me blue balls for?"

"Services have to be paid for, sir: I've already done more for you than your fifty dollars are worth. Besides, I like seeing him hard. If I make you come, he'll go limp, and he won't be as sexy to me." All the while as she said this, she continued playing with his phallus and testes, and giggled.

"How about if I take you out to dinner, then?"

Still staring at, playing with, and admiring his erection, she said, with wide-open eyes and a smile, "Mmm, that sounds appetizing."

"When and where?" he panted.

"Come to Luvlee's tomorrow night. You know where that is, don't you? Bring a lot of money so I can do lap-dances for you. Tomorrow I'll show you my naked body: every inch of me exposed, nothing left to the imagination. You can touch me all over, too: none of my anatomy's off-limits. Then you can buy me dinner at Lehar's. It's a French restaurant that's open 24 hours. Then take me to b...wait a minute; what about the Mrs.?"

"She'll be out of town on a business trip. We can come to my place after Lehar's. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, always grinning and moving his penis around like the stick-shift of a car. He gave her his $54. Moving his phallus up and down as if she were shaking his hand, she said, "It's been a pleasure doing business with you," and giggled. He put his clothes back on, and she most willingly helped him put his still erect penis in his now-bulging pants. They hugged each other, and she rubbed her belly against the bulge in his pants. Before he turned around to walk out of the room, she gave the bulge one last tickle. They said good-night to each other, and he left. "Don't worry, Mr. Hanson. Tomorrow night, you'll see welcome signs on my mouth, pussy, and asshole. But tonight, those three welcome signs are for Candice." 



Camilla Ch. 009



Camilla had her first taste of female genitals that night as she and Candice made love in the 69 position, with Camilla on top. With Candice licking Camilla's vulva and anus from below, and this being Camilla's first time to perform cunnilingus, this sex was like being taught the technique and practicing it simultaneously; for Camilla simply mimicked everything she felt Candice doing, except for the anilingus, which only Candice indulged in. When Candice licked, tickled, and sucked on Camilla's clitoris, Camilla immediately returned the favour; but when Candice put her finger or tongue in Camilla's anus, Camilla didn't do the same for Candice. Candice's anus was inaccessible to Camilla, Candice being on her back; but with Camilla on top, and her beautifully-curved behind pushed out in front of Candice's face, Camilla's pretty brown eye was seeing eye-to-eye with Candice's eager green eyes.

Though Camilla didn't show the same level of erotic interest in the anus of any of her lovers, she found their salacious fascination with her anus extremely flattering. If they considered the dirtiest part of her body to be beautiful and arousing, how much more of a sex goddess must they have found the rest of her to be! To have one's ass kissed or licked is normally called sycophancy; but in an erotic context, it means one is being worshipped, and Camilla loved to be given a religious kind of devotion in the bedroom. In her idealized self-conception, she was Aphrodite in body, and Athena in mind. To be Aphrodite, every part of her body had to be sanctified, including her cruder areas; so she wanted to use her anus more prominently as a sexual object in order to make herself all the more desirable; therefore she would have to learn how to gain more pleasure from its being stimulated and penetrated.

Camilla got some pleasure from licking Candice's vulva; for Camilla, cunnilingus would be an acquired taste. Candice's licking, however, made Camilla sigh, squeal, and scream as much as it had the first time they'd made love. Candice also enjoyed giving and receiving oral pleasure, and moaned with Camilla. When Candice simultaneously had one finger in Camilla's anus, another finger in her vagina to stimulate her G-spot, and her lips and tongue all over Camilla's clitoris, it didn't take long for Camilla to ejaculate all over Candice's most receptive face.

That Saturday morning, before leaving the apartment to go shopping, Candice shaved Camilla's pubes again. She also put Camilla's captive bead ring on her huge clitoris again for her. Promptly after that, Candice started licking Camilla's genitals: the ring in her clitoris added another dimension of pleasure for her. Camilla ran her hands through Candice's red hair as she joyfully received her friend's electric tongue, and she sprayed her orgasm all over Candice's face. Luckily, none of Camilla's fluid got on the ring, but Candice happily licked it off her face.

********************************

Camilla had been told the night before that the electrical problems at Luvlee's would be fixed by Saturday night, so when Camilla went shopping with Candice that afternoon and found a black T-shirt that said "Ass--the new vagina," Camilla immediately bought it with the intention of wearing it that night. She would wear it to excite a particularly high level of lewdness among the Luvlee's clientele, in particular, Mr. Hanson, her high school history teacher, whom she'd massaged and teased the night before.

Indeed, when he walked into the strip joint and saw her in that black T-shirt, tight cut-off denim shorts and high heels, he became very excited.

"Hi, sir!" she said with a grin when she saw him.

"Hi," he said. Pointing to the message on the T-shirt, he asked, "Do you really believe in that philosophy?"

"Sure," she said with a wicked smile. "I wouldn't have bought the shirt if I didn't believe in what it says." Turning around and bending over with her legs spread wide open, she asked, "Do you like my Daisy Dukes?"

"I sure do," he panted. "How soon will you take them off?"

"Next song. I'm onstage next. Come sit at pervert's row so you can see my body up close."

He found a seat at the tip rail as she'd recommended, and a new song, 'Erotic City' by Prince, started to play as Camilla came onstage to the cheering of all the customers. She swayed her behind to the beat, bending over and pointing her bottom directly at Hanson's face. At the first singing of the chorus, where one isn't sure if one hears the word 'funk' or 'fuck', she unzipped and dropped her shorts, exposing her dainty light-blue panties. Again, she turned around, bent down, and pointed her soft buttocks at Hanson's face, gyrating them clockwise and counter-clockwise to the beat. At the group harmony singing of "Whoa-whoa! Whoa-whoa! Whoa-whoa-whoa!", she took of her top; bra-less, she exposed her large breasts with a wiggle and, wide-eyed and mouth agape, affected a look of shock, as if she'd only accidentally bared her bosom before so many cheering men.

Her second song was 'Nasty Girl', by Vanity 6. Halfway into the song, she removed her panties; she was now completely nude except for her high heels. Hanson was thrilled to see her shaved pubes and the ring in her clitoris when she squatted before him. After stuffing her panties inside her vagina, she stuffed them in his shirt pocket. By the end of the song, she removed her high heels.

Her third song was 'Erotica', by Madonna. On all fours, crawling slowly about the stage, she kept her legs wide apart and her behind pushed out so both her vulva and anus were always fully exposed to all the panting members of the audience (who included about half a dozen women in the packed strip club). At one point, she pointed her behind at Hanson and, looking back at him, smiled suggestively, biting her lower lip. He breathed heavily at her implied willingness to receive anal sex from him. Her anus looked like a chocolate-coated raisin, and her vulva was like a pastry with strawberry sauce sandwiched in the middle: her delicious labia. Hanson licked his lips, and a customer from back was heard shouting, "Ass--the new vagina!"

After her song was over, she got offstage, and she and Hanson went into a private room for lap-dances. Rubbing her soft, smooth buttocks against his long, hard penis, she said, "Oh, I remember him," and giggled. At one point during their many lap-dances, she 'accidentally' knocked over her purse, and her tube of anal lube fell out for him to see. Lewdly looking in his eyes, smiling, and giggling, she put the tube back in her purse. After several more songs had gone by, she asked him, "Did you remember to go to the ATM tonight?"

"Yes," he groaned in response to her grinding behind, which still massaged his erection. "I have almost a thousand dollars on me."

"Good," she said. When the next song started, she got up, bent over with her legs wide open, and opened her buttocks and labia to widen her anal and vaginal holes. "Do you want a taste?"

He stabbed his tongue in her vagina while the tip of his nose rested against her anal opening. He breathed in, but smelled not even the slightest faecal door. She had the sweetest anus and vagina he'd ever known, and he gluttonously licked and poked his tongue as deep inside both holes as he could. She giggled, squealed, and sighed with pleasure. Later, she turned around, sat on his lap facing him, and pushed her breasts in his face while stroking the hidden erection in his pants. He sucked on her raspberry nipples while sticking his finger in her anus. He heard her moans of pleasure as she put her slithering tongue in his ear.

With his hands still massaging her buttocks and anus, she said, "You touched my bum in history class yesterday afternoon, you bad boy!" Then she giggled again.

"You liked it," he insisted, opening and closing her anus. She looked in his eyes and grinned in approval of his lust.

Finally, Luvlee's closed for the night, and Camilla put on a sexy, revealing dark blue evening gown. It was elegant-looking and slutty-looking at the same time. She was nude under it, and not only did the low-cut top generously reveal her cleavage, to the point of bordering on exposing her nipples, but also the low-cut back showed off almost an inch of her anal cleft! If she bent over (which she would take every opportunity to do that night), some nipple would be exposed in the front, and about half of her buttocks would show as well. If she bent over with her legs wide apart (her most usual way of bending over), her anus would be in plain view.

"Are you sure this 24-hour restaurant we're going to--Lehar's--will accept you being dressed, or rather undressed, like that?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied. "The restaurant's manager hopes I'll let him sleep with me, so he lets me get away with wearing all kinds of bad girl outfits." Indeed, her face was brightly made up, so much so as to make a prostitute seem like a nun in comparison; and her ruby red lipstick was a welcome sign for Hanson's phallus (or that of any man she liked, for that matter) to enter her mouth. So desirable did Camilla look that if Aphrodite were to descend to earth in a modern woman's clothes, she'd look like Camilla did that night.

When they were in Lehar's and were taken to their table, her callipygian behind glided onto her seat, and sat there curved outwards, her anal cleft always exposed, for the viewing pleasure of any other interested customers. She asked him, "Which parts of my body do you think are the prettiest?"

"Every millimetre of you is flawless," he said. "Even your dirtiest parts are delectable. Forgive me if this sounds ungentlemanly, but you have the most beautiful asshole I've ever seen." For obvious reasons, this last clause was whispered.

"Why, thank you," she said with a high pitch and a sincere ear-to-ear grin. "You're gonna get some good lovin' tonight."

Neither of them knew that someone they knew saw them together there, someone who--by a bizarre twist of fate?--felt strangely drawn to that particular restaurant at that time.

After they finished their dinner at the restaurant, they went in Hanson's car towards the neighbourhood where he lived. Before they got there, they came to a park. She asked him to stop; she wanted to walk through the park with him for a while. He stopped by the entrance (the park was ringed with tall trees), and they walked in. As they approached a bench, he, behind her, ogled her exposed anal cleft.

Suddenly, not able to contain himself any longer, he pulled the shoulder straps of her dress to the sides, and her dress dropped on the pavement. Except for her high heels, she was now completely naked.

Looking back at him, she smiled and said, "You're bad!"

"Ever done it in a public place?" he asked.

"Yeah, but if you put it in my pussy, I'll scream so loud with pleasure people will hear." Then she knelt on the bench and pushed out her behind to display her pretty anus. "Got any other ideas?" she asked with widened eyes and a sexy pout.

"Yes, I do," he said, and frantically reached for her purse. He took out the anal lube, put a generous amount on his finger, and put it as deep in her rectum as he could reach. He lubricated her rectum thoroughly, and put some more on his right hand. Then he unzipped his fly with his left hand, and pulled out his half-erect penis. When he finished lubricating it, it was almost fully erect.

Camilla looked back at him, but the sight of a pair of eyes--at 2 o'clock from Camilla's point of view--watching the lovers through the leaves of the trees distracted her from seeing his phallus as he prepared to put it in. Let the voyeur look, she thought as she felt Hanson's penis push against her opening anus. He slid it in slowly and gently; they moaned together. He pushed it in halfway and asked her if it hurt: she sighed and said she loved it; indeed, she loved how his phallus massaged the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. She wondered how their peeping Tom was enjoying the show; with only the watcher's eyes visible, Camilla knew neither who it was nor what reaction--favourable or unfavourable--she and Hanson were getting.  

Finally, Hanson went all the way in. She asked him in groans how he liked the feeling; he said it was the best ever. Indeed, sliding his phallus in and out of that pretty brown hole, and looking at the creamy white skin of her beautifully-curved naked body, was the greatest experience he'd ever had. Not wanting to contaminate that rectal perfection, he pulled his phallus out and ejaculated on her back. She just giggled: "It's raining!" He looked at her behind and admired the big hole in the middle of the chocolate donut that was her stretched-open anus. Not wanting to get his come on her dress, she, in all insouciance over who could have been watching, just walked back to the car naked, smiling immodestly and making not even the slightest attempt to cover herself. Hanson carried her dress and purse for her, and enjoyed watching his come flow down her back and drip off of her buttocks as she walked. He would wipe her back clean with a cloth from his car, and then they would drive to his home for more fun.

She was quivering with pleasure to think some stranger in the park saw her naked and receiving anal sex from her history teacher. She would have quivered with fear to know that her watcher, the same watcher in Lehar's, was her hated drama teacher, Ms. Callahan.



Camilla Ch. 010



Hanson moaned as he felt the deep-throating mouth of Camilla's vagina tightly embrace his rock-hard erection. The slurping sound of the lips of her vulva as they sucked and slid up and down his phallus was driving him wild. She lay on top of him on the bed, her face up so close to his that only one side of it was visible to him: one brown eye, dilated, and her salivating, lip-stick red mouth.

Hanson soon became aware of some odd things about this sexual encounter: first, her hair was done up, yet her hair had been down when she came naked into his house; second, there was a lot of sunlight coming in the room, when it should have been nighttime; third, if there was a lot of light, why was there dilation of her pupil? If sexual arousal caused the dilation, why was she only softly moaning? Camilla screamed during vaginal sex: Hanson knew this. Finally, her eyes were blue, not brown...

He opened his eyes, and all was explained. His phallus was actually in her mouth; the 'brown eye' was really her pretty anus, opened and inches from his face; and it was morning. He concluded that there was no better alarm clock in the world than Camilla, in the 69 position with him, in the morning. Have dreams ever been any more pleasant than that? 

"Now that's what I call a good morning,...or good mooning," he grunted. She giggled as she continued to suck. Adoring the sight of her beautiful anus up so close, he could count the wrinkles and memorize each mark on it. He stuck his tongue inside it as deep as it would go: she'd showered before getting on top of him that morning, so her rectum was immaculate. He enjoyed feeling each tiny fold in that brown tunnel against his tongue as he rolled it in and out and licked her puckered anus lips. She was receiving the greatest pleasure from anilingus yet, and they both came at about the same time; she swallowed every drop of his ejaculation, and he received every drop of hers on his neck and chest. 

"You have such a perfect body, Camilla," he sighed.

"You have such a beautiful penis," she said, looking up and down at his naked body. "I have to pee." She got off the bed and started towards the door to get to the bathroom. "I always have to pee right after coming."

"Wait," he said as he got off the bed.

"But sir, I have to go pee-pee." The sight of this naked beauty fidgeting and clutching her crotch was exciting Hanson, even so soon after his orgasm. "Don't make me hold it in too long. I'll pee on the floor."

"Pee on me," he begged, liking the idea of making her hold it in.

"You want a golden shower?" she asked as she flinched and squirmed.

"Yes. In the bathtub. Please, my goddess."

"But, sir...I'll do it if you want, but it's so disrespectful to my teacher." She continued dancing and wincing in discomfort.

"Sanctify me, goddess."

"OK, if you put it that way." They went into the bathroom, he lay down on his back in the tub, and she squatted over his torso. She moaned in relief as the urine finally began to flow; he moaned in pleasure as the liquid gold splashed on his chest. She moved forward and backward so he would feel her piss sprinkling on his neck, stomach, genitals, and legs. He was fortunate in that she had a lot to evacuate from her bursting bladder. His pagan goddess gave him quite a baptism, for he felt the aspersion of yellow drops on his face and hair as well. He was thrilled at how the sight of that diluted honey pouring from her urethra added to the loveliness of her vulva, which she held wide open to the delight of his hungry eyes. Finally, he felt the last few drops she could muster on his face, and she said, "Okay, no more."

He got up, thanked her, and turned on the shower. His penis was erect again. She lathered up the soap and started spreading the lather on his back as he washed her urine off his front. She soaped up his whole body as he soaped up her genitals and anus. After rinsing the soap away, they started kissing and masturbating each other. She nibbled on his nipples and moved one hand up and down his phallus while the other played with his balls. He kissed her forehead, and his hands roved all over her curvaceous body, fondling her breasts and buttocks, and dipping his fingers in her vagina and rectum. She jerked his phallus faster as he tickled her clitoris. At last, she came on his hand, and he came on her belly.

After washing the come off themselves, they got out of the shower stall and dried each other off. Needing to urinate again, she sat on the toilet, leaving her legs wide open so he could watch the golden water pour out into the toilet bowl. Loving the way her curved, round behind caressed the seat, he smiled as he looked down at her and said, "Even when you perform the most animal bodily functions, you're still divinely beautiful. I'm going to go out and get some food for us. What do you want?"

"Anything healthy, thanks," she said, grinning as she looked up at his admiring eyes. He waited for her to finish pissing, and as she reached for the toilet paper, he walked out of the bathroom, put on some clothes in the bedroom, and left the house. 

After cleaning her vagina with the shower-head and soap again, she dried herself and walked out of the bathroom. She got her purse (With her high heels, it was the only thing she brought in his house: her dress remained in his car.) from the bedroom and went back to the bathroom. She got out her makeup and started painting her face: thick black mascara, dark blue eye shadow, pink blush, and bright red lipstick. Then she took out her captive bead ring and put it in her clitoris; she sighed with pleasure at the sensation. Shortly after she finished and walked out of the bathroom with her purse, she heard her cell-phone ringing. Now back in the bedroom and with her high heels on, she took the phone out of her purse and said "Hello?" into the mouthpiece.

"Hi Camilla," Candice said. "Where are you? I've been worried."

"I'm in Mr. Hanson's house."

"You're fucking our history teacher? Eww! He's even uglier than Grisham."

"No, he's not. His cock is beautiful. Well, it's a little too big for me, actually. My pussy and asshole are a little sore from his digging last night." 

"Oh, Camilla! Don't you have any taste?"

"Well, if you could fuck one of our teachers, who'd you do?"

"How about Mr. Pierce? He's hot. At least he's in shape."

"Yeah, but he's just a gym teacher. I like smart men."

"He's smart. Just 'cause he teaches gym doesn't mean he's dumb. He teaches geography, too. Talk to him sometime: I've had intelligent conversations with him. You and me in a threesome with him would be fun; I bet he'd like that. I've seen him stare at the pretty girls in gym class."

"Maybe he'd be fun to fuck. I have a couple other guys in my sights first, though. I wanna see that STD doctor, our neighbour who saw me naked a few days ago, remember? I'm wondering if my sore pussy and asshole are because of STDs. I don't think they are, but it's an excuse for me to flash for him, anyway. Also, my mom's gonna marry her boyfriend. I wanna do my cat moves on him: even if he's ugly and a jerk, I'll still fuck him just to spite my mom. I hate that bitch."

"You've got serious family issues, Camilla." After a brief pause, Candice smiled slyly and asked, "Are you naked now?"

"As always," Camilla said with a grin. "The ring's in my clit."

"Touch your pussy," Candice sighed. 

"Okay. Are you touching yours?" Camilla started breathing heavily and tickling her clitoris. 

"Of course I am," Candice moaned. With her phone clasped between her chin and shoulder to free both hands, she fingered her G-spot. "Feel your tits. I'm pinching my nipples."

"I'm squeezing my right tit," Camilla sighed. 

"Put it in your mouth." Candice was already nearing orgasm as she heard the slurping sounds of Camilla sucking on her own breast. 

Hanson returned with some food, and brought it up to the bedroom. He was thrilled to watch nude Camilla masturbating during phone sex. He rushed into the bathroom, got some paper towels, and hurried back into the bedroom to put them under her very wet vulva. The girls loved the rhythmic sound of their breathing over the phone. Candice orgasmed, but Camilla was still tickling herself. Hanson just sat in front of her and enjoyed the show. "Did you come, Candice?" she asked.

"Yeah," Candice said. "Oh, shit. I forgot--I have to do something right away. Thanks for the phone fuck, sweetie. See you tonight. Bye." She hung up. 

"Bye," Camilla said. She put her phone back in her purse.

"That was lesbian phone sex?" Hanson asked with a smile.

"Yeah. Did you get some food?" she asked as she crawled toward him.

"Yeah. What do you want to eat?"

"Your cock. Unzip your pants." On her knees, she was between his legs now. The red lipstick on her lips spelled out fellatio. She pulled out his partially-erect penis and started kissing and licking the tip as she looked up at him. With a wicked twinkle in her eye, she growled, "I love sucking cock."

He looked down at her beautiful shapely nakedness as she put his now fully-erect phallus halfway in her mouth. He ran his hands through her golden hair as her mouth went up and down his erection. Her fingers gently scratched his scrotum and tapped his testes. As she looked up at him, her eyes communicated her pleasure in pleasuring him. Her tongue tickled his protruding corpus spongiosum while her lips massaged the length of his shaft--a good seven inches, and at least two or three millimetres thicker than Grisham's member. She deep-throated him several times, as she had done when she was on top of him in the 69 position before he woke up. "I'm gonna come," he grunted.

She pulled it out of her mouth and placed it between her breasts. She squeezed his penis between them as tightly as she could, and moved up and down so the skin of her smooth, large breasts caressed his erection. His orgasm spat on her face in several splotches: like a little girl being hit with a squirt gun, she giggled and screamed in a high pitch at every splash that spotted her cheeks, nose, eyes, and chin. "That was fun," she said as the foam dripped down her face. 

This fun continued for the rest of the day. He didn't want to take her home until after midnight, when all his neighbours were in bed: he didn't want the gossips to see Camilla leaving his house and getting into his car. He took her back to her apartment at about 1:30 AM. In the hallway in front of her apartment, she said goodnight to him, he went down the elevator, and, always the exhibitionist, she removed her dress and shoes. That doctor neighbour watched her through the eyehole of his front door and admired her lovely naked buttocks. She unlocked the door and walked in with her purse and clothes in her hands. She crawled into bed with Candice and they wrapped their arms around each other.

Hanson assumed he was safe, not realizing that a neighbour did see naked Camilla go into his house on Saturday night, and out of his house that Sunday night. The neighbour was a relative of one of the teachers at Camilla's school. Gossip would be sure to come. 



Camilla Ch. 100



Camilla's next memory vision was one that had occurred eight years before her predicament in the public aquarium. She was twenty-nine at the time, and she and her husband Cameron had been lecturing on English literature in Montreal's McGill University for a year.

She still felt guilty about the encounter she'd had with the 'masseur', and hadn't found out he was one of the masked men. The pain of that guilt, however, had abated somewhat; for she'd been controlling her sexual urges very well ever since, and the masked men hadn't done anything else to trouble her...yet.

One afternoon in late September, Camilla was lecturing on Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter, and she was enjoying showing off her wide range of knowledge--of everything from the best of all Christian virtues to the darkest forms of evil in the themes of all great literature. Indeed, there was much of both in Hawthorne's novel. She found discussing the redemption of adulteress Hester Prynne especially therapeutic.

"Though shunned by her priggish society," Dr. Camilla Fox went on, reaching the end of her class, "Hester actually becomes a much better Christian than all of her Puritan neighbours combined. Time has passed since her affair with the minister Dimmesdale, and she has spent that time helping the sick and the poor, a far better thing to do than self-righteously judging the sins of others. She has gone full circle, going from extreme shame to extreme honour, from the hellish bitten tail of the ouroboros to its heavenly biting head. Sometimes a brief visit to hell actually saves us. Think of Jesus between His own death and resurrection."

One attractive young man--tall, thin, and blond--was listening to her words in rapt attention. He was as intellectually turned on by her ideas as he was physically turned on by her body. Who wouldn't have been? She was wearing tight beige slacks, black high heels, a white dress shirt unbuttoned low enough to show off a bit of black lace brassiere, and bright, heavy makeup to put some colour on her otherwise pale, 'Goth-looking' skin. Her black hair and eyes were particularly enticing to the boy.

Class ended, and everyone left the room except him and Dr. Fox, a name all the male students found quite apt for her.

"Dr. Fox?" he said, drawing her attention from the papers she was looking at on her podium. "That was a great lecture."

"Thanks," she said with a grin. "You're Mike, right?"

"Yeah," he said shyly. "You remembered my name. Wow."

"How could I forget, sweetie? You who always have a lot to talk to me about after every class. What would you like to ask me today?"

"Well, uh," he began, leaning against a desk and pushing out his right knee, "You've mentioned this symbol of a snake coiled in a circle, biting its tail, several times over the past few lectures."

"The ouroboros," she said, standing up close in front of him, with her legs spread open a bit.

"Yeah, the ouroboros. It's a symbol of eternity, of endless cycles; but you seem to speak of it in a different way. Can you explain your interpretation? I'm not sure I understand it."

"Well, I see it as the Western version of yin and yang in Chinese philosophy. We never have one opposite without the other one, right next to it. All opposites--folly, wisdom; good, evil; heaven, hell; et cetera--can each be put on its own continuum ranging from one extreme to the other, with every intermediate point lying in between. You can then take those extremes and coil the line of each continuum into a circle, and one extreme opposite mysteriously dissolves into the other--a circular continuum. The serpent biting its tail represents that idea to me." She moved a little closer to him, her crotch almost touching his knee.

"I see," Mike said. "So the hell of Hester's shame dissolves into saintliness with her charitable deeds; while Dimmesdale's shame over sleeping with her is kept secret, and his hating of himself, which ironically reinforces his false public image as a good, humble man of God--always seeming holy in his confessions of worthlessness--that ultimately kills him."

"Exactly," she said. "Hester goes from bitten tail to biting head, in her confrontation with her sin, and in her resolve to be charitable. Dimmesdale, however, goes from biting head to bitten tail, in his cowardly inability to confess his sin, and in his perpetuating of his false image as a virtuous Christian. He confesses his worthlessness only in a general sense, and this impresses his flock; but never until his death does he take responsibility for sleeping with Hester by publicly admitting to it, for such a confession would have been too shocking."

"Brilliant," Mike said, beaming at her as she used to do with her old teachers. "You're amazing, Dr. Fox."

"Thank you." Camilla suddenly started feeling hot, both physically and sexually; she was breathing heavily as she eyed the cute boy. She'd been successfully resisting adultery for over a year since her encounter with the 'masseur', sleeping only with Cameron. But temptation was taking her over, and quickly. "You're obviously a very bright young man." She put her crotch on his knee and rubbed where her vulva was back and forth against him.

"Th-thank you," he panted. Though getting very excited from his teacher's come-on, the shy boy needed an excuse to cool down from this all-too-hot situation, so he nervously looked down at his watch. "Oh, I gotta get to my next class." He got up from the desk and picked up his book-bag. "Bye, Dr. Fox."

"Bye," she said, grinning at him as he shuffled out of the classroom. "What a little hottie." Then she quickly cooled down. "But I'm married, and I already have a scarlet letter of my own."

**************

Mike met up with a male friend of his in the hall just outside Camilla's classroom.

"So how was your class with The Fox?" his friend asked.

"Hotter than usual," Mike said. "As I was asking her questions, I was leaning on a desk with my knee sticking out, and she started rubbing her pussy against it."

"Holy shit!" his friend whispered. "Fuck her, man! Fuck The Fox!"

"I think she wants me to."

**************

The next day, Camilla saw Mike walking down the hallway of another building on the McGill campus.

Catching up to him, she said, "Hi Mike!" with a big grin.

"Oh, hi," he said shyly.

"Where are you off to?" she asked.

"Oh, a class on the Romantic poets," he said.

"Oh, really? Who will you be studying today?"

"Coleridge. 'Kubla Khan'." They got into an elevator together.

"Oh, the one who decreed a pleasure-dome in Xanadu. 'And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair!'"

"You know the poem well?" Mike asked, pressing the button for his floor.

"Oh, yes. My doctoral thesis dealt with it," she said, pressing the button for hers. "'Kubla Khan' deals with the influence of drugs--opium in particular--on poetic inspiration, and with creativity and the poetic imagination."

"Can you help me with it? I'm having trouble understanding it."

Heating up again, she said, "Sure. We can discuss it over dinner."

"R-really?" he asked, getting hot himself.

"Sure," she said, grinning. "My treat. Do you know Chez Louis?"

"Y-yeah, that classy restaurant. Wow, it's pricey, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but that's not a problem for me, don't worry," she said. The elevator doors opened.

"I can meet you there at 8 tonight. Oh, here's m-my floor."

She gently caressed his buttocks. "Great. See you then."

"Bye," he said nervously, then got out of the elevator.

Cooling down as she continued up to her floor, she thought, What am I doing? I'll help him with Coleridge, and that's it! I love Cameron, and only him!

****************

That night, she and Mike were eating at Chez Louis.

"So what do you think about the untimely death of Prime Minister Van Duyne?" she asked Mike.

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's odd how not only he died, but also the American president, the prime minister of England, and the German chancellor died, all within the space of a month."

"And they're all Green Party leaders," she added.

"Do you believe that tripe about Muslim terrorists conspiring to kill them?"

"Oh, I don't know. Muslim fundamentalists hate us 'infidels', and want to kill us all. I should know: I was in Bali several years ago, where the Bali bombing had happened. It was really scary having so many of them around, ruining vacationers' fun with our fear of them. And why do they hate us? Because we would rather worship the Goddess, our Mother Earth, than pray to Allah," she said.

"But the Greens are creating emergency laws and suspending civil liberties. That's just plain wrong."

It'll only be temporary--for our safety." She stabbed some meat on her saliva-spotted fork and brought it over for him. "Here, sweetie: let me feed you." She put the fork in his mouth, and he bit off the meat.

After chewing it a bit, he asked, "But how long will 'temporary' be? Months? Years? Decades?"

"If the Muslim extremists win, they'll impose sharia law, and restrict our freedoms in a much worse way. Here, baby: have some more food." She served him more of her food on her fork. He wrapped his lips around it, and pulled the food off her fork. "Feeding you is so sexy, don't you think?"

"Yeah," he said, chewing. "But let's not get too far off topic here. I can't see things getting much worse than they are now. We don't even know if the Muslims are guilty."

"Looked pretty obvious to me on the TV," she said, putting some more of her food on her fork and feeding him.

"Yeah, but do you really trust the media? They could have manipulated the images to deceive us. The West is paralyzed with fear and desire. I'm sure the Greens are taking advantage of this--I suspect even causing this fear. Now there's talk of war with the Arab world. This is awful," he said, taking some more food off her fork.

"Well, war may be necessary."

"But the destruction that war causes can only hurt the Earth. That goes against the principles of the Green Party. They're being hypocritical." She fed him more of her food from her fork.

"Well, they want to bomb only dry, desert areas," Camilla said. "There will be few, if any, trees to harm, I imagine. When they win, the Greens hope to bring vegetation to those areas."

"How do they hope to do that, in the desert? Can they do miracles?" He took more food from her fork into his mouth.

"Oh, they have special abilities," she said automatically, not even consciously aware of what she was saying. Mike was now also in a trance. "With their divine power, they can actually influence the climate, causing rainfalls where there had never been rain before. As soon as they put sod on the sand, you'll see. With vegetation and plentiful precipitation--each raindrop with its own microscopic black egg of nourishment--the Green Party will more than compensate the Muslims for any lives lost. The Arabs will then grow crops, and feed their families. We'll solve their economic and political problems, bring them into conformity with our democratic values, and have the Green Party in their countries. When they're all like us, then we'll have world peace." She fed him again.

"I see," he said, still dazed. "Now I understand." He ate from her fork again.

"You'll vote Green Party, always."

"I'll vote Green Party, always."

**************

After their dinner, they left the restaurant and walked down a street towards the bus stop.

"We never talked about Coleridge," Mike said.

"Oh, well," Camilla said. "We'll have to do so during another date." They reached the bus stop. "OK, we're here." Heating up again, she patted him on the behind.

"Uh, can I have a good-night kiss?" he asked.

Remembering Cameron and cooling down with considerable effort, she said, "Sorry, sweetie. You're really cute, but I'm happily married, with a ten-year-old son. I had a great time tonight. Good night, and we'll do this again real soon, OK? Bye." She began walking away.

"OK, good night," he said, frowning in disappointment.

On her way back to her car, she thought, Well, I resisted temptation; but I set myself up for more. Being a faithful wife is getting more and more difficult every minute.

***************

Camilla and Mike made another date the following week, and she went to meet him in his apartment. Burning with a heat that seemed to be coming from outside of her, she fought hard against temptation as she walked into his apartment building.

I'm just helping him with 'Kubla Khan', she thought as she approached the elevator. No feeding on honey-dew for me; no fun in his pleasure-dome. She pressed the button for the elevator to come down to the ground floor.

Waiting in his apartment for her and about to take a shower, naked Mike was also feeling a strange heat permeating his body. He had a partial erection that pointed at a 45 degree angle from his standing legs. Camilla rang the doorbell, and he felt compelled to answer the door naked.

Afraid his nudity would scare her away, he opened the door only about a foot wide; nonetheless, he absent-mindedly stood so most of his left side--his left arm, left nipple, left hip, and left leg--were showing to Camilla's delighted eyes.

"Hi Dr. Fox," he said with a smile.

"Hi," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "You're naked?" She began ogling him, hoping to see more.

"Oh, uh, yeah," he said, turning to the side so she could see him in profile, while keeping his erection hidden behind the door. Her eyes greedily poured all over his skin. "I was about to take a shower. You can come in and wait for me at my desk if you want." He opened the door a little wider as he walked from the doorway to the bathroom.

She came in and saw his pretty buttocks for the first time. Sighing at the beauty of his tall, thin, young body, she caressed him along his anal cleft.

He stopped and looked back at her with a smile. "Do you like what you see?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she panted, still ogling his ass.

"Wanna see some more?"

"Definitely."

He turned around, showing her his long, thick, hard cock. Her face lit up with lecherous ecstasy at the pointy prick she was staring at.

"Well?" he asked, smiling immodestly. "What do you think?"

"You're beautiful," she said, almost crying as she continued staring at his hard-on. "Absolutely beautiful."

"I have to take my shower now."

"Let me bathe you, sweetie."

"OK." They went into the bathroom together, and he got in the tub. He put in the plug and turned on the water. As the water slowly rose up, she lathered up the soap.

She started by rubbing the lather in circles on his chest as he washed his face. Then she soaped up his arms and armpits, then his belly; he was rubbing shampoo on his hair. Naturally, she spent a long time thoroughly cleaning his cock and balls, always careful not to get him so excited that he would ejaculate and then be limp. (She used Nigrovum to keep his erection peaking, but never climaxing.) He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.

"OK, baby," she said. "Turn around, and I'll clean you from behind." He turned around, and she built up a lather while he rinsed his front off.

Now she got the lather all over his back, and moved down to his buttocks, again taking longer and being more thorough.

"Can you bend over and spread your legs, please?" she asked.

"OK," he said, and bent over. She began soaping up his asshole, and slid her soapy finger an inch or so inside. "Ooh!"

As her finger continued soaping up his asshole, she asked, "So sweetie, have you ever had homosexual feelings?"

"No, of course not," he said. "Unh! Why do you ask?"

"I'd love to watch a beautiful boy like you satisfy the lust of a gay man in bed. Him penetrating you anally, then you blowing him. It's a kinky thing I'm into." She pulled her finger out of his asshole.

"Eww! Sorry, that's not my thing."

"No big deal. It's not like I'd ever make you do it." She squatted down and started soaping up his legs and feet. Guiltily remembering how she'd sexually humiliated her transvestite 'priests', she knew she'd never make Mike do any of that. "OK, let's rinse you off." She took the shower head from him and rinsed off his back and ass. He, still bent over, pulled out the plug.

He got out of the tub, and she got a big towel and dried him off, paying extra special attention to his cock, balls, and ass. Then they left the bathroom and sat on the bed.

"So, what do you want me to wear, and where will we go?" he asked, looking over at all the clothes hanging in his closet.

"You aren't wearing anything," she said, staring at his still hard cock. "And we're going nowhere." She took his head in her hands and plunged her tongue inside his mouth.

They were moaning loudly as they French-kissed, her playing with his cock and balls, but never enough to make him come. Then she stood up and began unbuttoning her blouse. He just sat on the bed and enjoyed the show.

I'm finally gonna see The Fox naked, he thought, grinning. Alright!

Off came her blouse, revealing a white bra. Then she undid her dress pants and pulled them down, showing him her white panties. He was thrilled and amazed to see so young-looking a body on a 29-year-old. Indeed, she seemed to have the body of a girl in her early twenties. He hoped her breasts wouldn't sag. She took off her high heels, then pulled her feet out of the leg holes of her pants. Now she straightened up and put her hands on the hook of her bra.

The moment of truth, he thought; firm, or floppy?

She unclipped and removed her bra with her characteristic wiggle of her still perfectly shaped breasts. His eyes almost popped out of his head to see their flawless hugeness.

Thank God, he thought. Her bras haven't being lying.

Then she pulled down her panties, revealing her Nigrovum-blackened pubic hair. He was practically salivating at the sight of her nude loveliness. She turned around for him.

"OK, baby," she said with a grin. "How do I look?"

"DIvine," he panted. "Let me make love to you, Goddess!"

She got on the bed on her back, and he got on top of her in the missionary position. He looked in her eyes as he slowly slid his big cock inside her wet pussy. She looked up at him and squinted as her agape mouth released high-pitched squeals of pleasure. He pushed in half-way, rubbing against her tingling G-spot; then his cock went in all the way, kissing her A-spot. She screamed in whistle register and came her first orgasm of the night.




Camilla Ch. 100



"Wow," he panted as he began thrusting inside her. "You come...early, don't you? Unh!"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Oh! I'm pretty...easy to please. Ah!"

"You are...so beautiful. Oh!"

"So are you, baby. Ah!" She came a second time.

"Such a...perfect body; such a...perfect mind. Unh!"

"Same...to you. Oh!"

"I think...I love you."

Uh-oh, she thought as she continued squealing and screaming. He'll have to be psychically subdued. I can't have another Akemi on my hands.

"I know...you're married, but I...can't help it. Oh!"

"Oh! I'm almost there. Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! Ah!" She came a third time. He kept fucking, approaching orgasm himself. Not wanting his come all over her skin, and not wanting him to have his sheets any more covered with come than they were now, she used Nigrovum to speed up his orgasm, and allowed him to come inside her.

"Oh!" he grunted, shooting his jizz inside her pussy. When he was finished, he said, "Oops...no condom."

"Don't worry," she said in sighs. "I won't...get pregnant." He lay beside her and cuddled with her, content to let her deluge of come soak his ass.

"Are you sterile?" he asked.

Remembering Nigrovum's ability to sterilize semen, she said, "Well, something like that." Then she looked intensely into his eyes. "You are not in love with me."

"I am not in love with you."

"Nor will you ever obsess over me."

"Nor will I ever obsess over you."

"You will respect my marriage, and you will no longer hope for sex with me."

"I will respect your marriage, and I will no longer hope for sex with you."

"Good," she said, then got off the bed. Happy that she didn't get any of her come on her body, she started putting her clothes back on.

"Do you have to go so soon?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, pulling up her panties. "I have a husband and a son to take care of. I also have to prepare my classes for tomorrow." She put on her bra.

"But what about 'Kubla Khan'? We never talked about it."

"Maybe we can reserve some time during my office hours, or in the cafeteria." She finished putting on her clothes, then picked up her purse. "Good night, sweetie, and thanks for a wonderful time. See you in class."

"OK, bye," he said, frowning to see her walk out the door. "Well, she is married. I always knew I couldn't expect much. Oh, well: at least I have something to brag about with my friends. Shit! I forgot to take a picture of her and me for proof."

She got into the elevator, softly sobbing. As it went down to the ground floor, she began to resign herself to her situation. I'm Hester, the adulteress, she thought. But I'm also Dimmesdale, unable to confess or redeem myself. Oh, well: I guess this is what I am.

***************

Yes, thought a masked man, the giver of her and MIke's heat from the other side of town. This is what you are, and what you'll always be.



Camilla Ch. 101



Almost two weeks had gone by, and 37-year-old Camilla's naked body was still hovering over the fouled water of a large water tank in the public aquarium in Montreal. Her captive audience of lecherous voyeurs was still getting video of her gaping mouth, pussy, and asshole as they were being stuffed with the invisible cocks of incubi.

She was still gushing out come and piss into the water, and occasionally shitting into it; sometimes an especially large and aggressively thrusting ghost cock would puncture her anal or vaginal walls, and blood would drip into the water, as would saliva from her sucking mouth.

News reporters from around the world tirelessly continued their coverage of the bizarre story, and the crowd of people in the observation area never turned their dazed, upward gaze from the sight of Camilla through the giant, TV-screen-like glass that separated the fouled water from them. No one came to stop what was happening, nor could anyone: for the masked men were always in total psychic control of the situation.

Dr. Singh and the spirits of Camilla's loved ones continued doing all they psychically could to keep the glass from breaking and drenching all her watchers in her bodily fluids, all saturated with her Nigrovum, which in turn was saturated with the energy of her desire and fear, useful energy for enslaving the masses. Her friends also helplessly waited for her to wake up from her current memory vision, so they could communicate with her again; but she still wouldn't wake up.

****************

Instead, she was in the middle of reliving a memory seven years before the Montreal aquarium incident, when she was thirty. She, Cameron, and eleven-year-old Eros were watching Hitchcock's Psycho on TV one night in late July.

For no apparent reason, she was heavily made up and dressed like a schoolgirl, in a white blouse, a dark plaid dress, black socks going up almost to her knees, and black dress shoes. She had the black-eyed, black-haired, pale 'Goth' look that Nigrovum had replaced her original blonde hair, blue eyes, and peach skin with.

After a while of listening to Norman Bates and Marion Crane talking about his mother, Eros, sitting with Camilla on the couch, looked back at her and asked, "Is a boy's best friend his mother?"

"Yes, of course," she answered with a grin, hugging him tight.

Then why is Cameron in bed with you every night? the unusually big boy wondered. I'm as big as he is now; I could replace him. Camilla and Cameron exchanged pained glances, since they'd psychically felt what Eros was thinking.

Suddenly, Camilla felt a heat covering her whole body. She began to sweat.

"Uh oh," she said, with her hand on her forehead.

"Are you OK?" Cameron asked.

"I will be," she said. "I just need to go out for a while. I need some air." She got up and went to the front door.

"OK," Cameron said, looking at her with worry in his eyes.

"Don't go, Mom," Eros said, looking up at her anxiously.

"Don't worry, baby," she said to him as she turned the doorknob. "I'll be back soon. Enjoy the movie with your daddy." She went outside with her purse.

He isn't my dad, Eros thought, and I won't enjoy the movie with him. Only with you, Mom. Cameron felt that thought also, and pouted.

Camilla felt a psychic tug pulling her towards her car. She got in, left the window open for a breeze to cool herself, and drove away.

She didn't know where she was going, but her psychic tug was making her drive to a very specific place. As she got closer to that place, a mental haze made her less and less aware of where she was or what she was doing, though she drove there in perfect safety.

After about a half hour of driving, she parked in front of a tall apartment building, in an area of Montreal she'd never been to before. Leaving her purse in the car, she got out with absolutely none of her own volition or conscious awareness of what she was doing; like an automaton, she walked over to the front doors of the apartment building, completely forgetting about her car. She got into an elevator and pressed the button for the eleventh floor, looking at the button as if she didn't even know what 'eleven' meant, but compelled to choose it anyway.

Reaching the eleventh floor, she walked out of the elevator with dazed, agape eyes, and went to Room 1111. She knocked on the door.

"Come on in, Camilla," a man's voice called from inside the room. Her hair, eyes, and skin all changed back to their original blonde, blue-eyed, and peach-skinned colours. A man watching her from down the hall just looked in astonishment at the change, but went into his room and thought no more about it.

Camilla went into Room 1111, closed the door, and walked over to the living room, where a dozen men in black suits were sitting on chairs and on the couch. She saw the faces of some of her elementary and high school teachers.

"I thought you were all dead," the girl said, as if high on drugs.

"We were," 'Mr. Patterson' lied. "But with Nigrovum, we can reanimate our bodies."

"You know that," 'Mr. Langella' said. "You reanimated your dead father once, remember?"

"Yeah," she said, giggling in embarrassment, and too dazed to wonder how he could have known about her having committed incest with Agape.

"Do you know why we all called you here?" 'Mr. Gray' asked.

"You all wanna have sex with me, right, sir?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," 'Mr. Fulson' said. "Now, be a good girl and take all your clothes off for us, sweetie. We're dying to see that beautiful body of yours again."

"Yes, sir," she said, shyly unbuttoning her blouse. She'd been psychically made completely oblivious to the very existence of her husband and son, and therefore totally forgot that they were still waiting for her to return home from her 'walk'. "I'm older now," she said to the men, "so maybe my body doesn't look as good as it used to." She took off the blouse, revealing her pink lace bra.

"Nonsense," said 'Mr. Leroy'. "You look about 22, maybe 23."

Remembering how Nigrovum was slowing down her ageing process, she said, "Oh, yeah." She undid her skirt and dropped it to the floor, showing off her pink panties.

"Nice undies," 'Mr. Grisham' said, licking his lips.

"Thank you, sir," she said, then began taking off her shoes and socks. "Are you guys still mad at me, I mean, for killing you with Nigrovum?"

"No, not anymore," 'Mr. Hanson' said. "We forgive you now."

"Now that we can reanimate ourselves, and can come back into this world to be with you and have a fuck or two occasionally, we can handle the afterlife," 'Mr. Baker' said.

"OK," she said, taking off her bra.

"Oh, look at those beautiful titties," said 'Mr. Burgess'.

"Thank you, sir," she said. The trance she'd been put in made her too dazed to contemplate how 'Mr. Baker' could ever want to fuck Camilla occasionally, and with a group of other men; this of course was totally unlike him in nature, since when he was alive, he'd hoped she'd be his one true love, and had died of a broken heart when he learned she was a slut.

She pulled down her panties, revealing her pubic hair, in its original brown colour. She stood naked in the middle of the twelve men, who were standing around her in a circle.

"What a beautiful body," 'Mr. Finch' said.

"OK, sweetie," 'Mr. Fulson' said. "Could you please get down on all fours and spread your legs out so we can see your asshole and pussy?"

"Yes, Mr. Fulson," she said, getting on the floor as asked, with her ass pointing at 'Fulson'.

"Thank you, baby," he said. "You're such a good girl."

"So, how do you all want to enjoy me?" she asked, looking up at the men timidly.

"Well, I'd like to put my cock in your pretty mouth, OK?" said 'Mr. Williams', unzipping his fly.

"Yes, sir," she said, salivating as his cock came out of his pants.

"And I want your pussy," said 'Langella', pulling down his pants and getting under her.

"OK," she said, bringing her ass down a bit so his cock could reach up to her cunt.

"And I'll have your pretty little beige asshole," said 'Fulson', getting behind her and pulling out his hard cock. He used his psychic powers to lubricate her anus and rectum, then pushed the tip of his cock against her anal orifice.

"But, what about Mr. Finch, Mr. Burgess, Mr. Phillips, and...?" she began to ask, but was interrupted by 'Williams'' bit cock shoving its way in her mouth.

"Don't worry," said 'Gray'. "We'll all have our turn soon enough."

As 'Fulson', 'Williams', and 'Langella' were sliding their cocks in and out of her asshole, mouth, and pussy, the other 'teachers' all put masks on; one of them, 'Mr. Finch', said, "You know, Camilla, how you imagine that you used Nigrovum to seduce us, however unconsciously? Well, actually, we were the ones who used it on you...and most consciously."

"Huh?" she moaned in confusion, then looked to her left and saw the man who'd just spoken--not Finch, but a masked man. Then she looked up at the man she was blowing, and instead of seeing Williams, she saw another man who'd just finished covering his face with a grotesque mask. Getting increasingly scared, but too dazed to do anything about it, she looked at the man under her, and saw a third masked man; taking the cock out of her mouth for a moment, she looked behind her, and saw another masked man fucking her ass. She looked around the room, and saw a dozen masked men...no teachers. They had all used Nigrovum to make themselves look like her old lovers, but had now changed back to their original appearances.

Impatient to have his cock sucked, the man in front of her used his psychic power to make her head turn back to him, and to receive his cock in her mouth again. Looking up at him timidly, she kissed the tip of his cock and licked the underside before deep-throating it.

"We believe an associate of ours already briefly told you about what happened, about us psychically engineering all of your sexual encounters with your elementary and high school teachers, though you'd been made to forget what he said," said another masked man, the one who'd looked like Grisham. "When we're finished with you tonight, you'll be made to forget again, of course, as all our pawns are made to forget our schemes. Indeed, that's how all those in power keep their power: by making the masses forget the past sins of their leaders, by making the masses unaware of what's really going on in the world, even after the truth has been shown."

The cock in her ass enjoyed the feeling of her anal lips expanding and contracting as it pushed all the way in and pulled two-thirds of the way out. The cock in her pussy was filling her up so fully that her every wet vaginal wall was tingling with pleasure, all while she listened in fear to what the men were saying.

"It may seem pointless to tell you everything we plan to do, since we'll psychically erase the memory of our words from your mind," said a masked man standing by the one she was blowing. "But it amuses us to tell you everything, since you won't be able to do a thing about it, anyway."

Indeed, Camilla was powerless to do anything at that moment except receive cock up her ass, and in her pussy and mouth; for the masked men had psychically put her in a state of total passivity. In fact, she screamed just then, not in terror, but from having just orgasmed. Her come splashed all over the thighs of the man who before had looked like Langella.

"When you, then a 17-year-old girl, saw Mr. Grisham walk into your English classroom for the first time, you were much too shy to tell him you had a crush on him, let alone try to seduce him," said the masked man who'd looked like Burgess. "With a little Nigrovum in your blood, with a power you didn't even know you had, or knew how to use in any significant capacity, did you actually think you could seduce your teachers all by yourself? For about three years, our men in Vancouver had been collecting the come you'd sprayed on the grass of parks after masturbating there; and later, when they learned you'd gotten a job as a stripper and fucked your boss and a customer, Wayne, they had an idea for how they could use your budding nymphomania to their advantage."

"They sensed your own unconscious use of Nigrovum to send a signal--a slight one--to Grisham that you wanted him," said a masked man standing by her ass-fucker. "They also sensed his then-mild sexual interest in you. They decided to heat up both your passions and his, to a point where you were both actually willing to risk getting in trouble, all for a mere lay."

The man underneath her was thrusting away quickly and forcefully now, as was the man fucking her ass. The man she was blowing held her head tightly in his hands, guiding it back and forth as her slippery lips tightly embraced his rock-hard shaft. Her lower lip was hugging his protruding corpus spongiosum, her tongue flickered against his knob, and her hand held his balls, gently shaking them. She came again, soaking her pussy-fucker's lap.

"Our Vancouver men were the ones to put the urge in Grisham's mind to touch your thighs one day; he didn't think of that himself, however much it may have seemed that way," said another masked man. "Then, on that fateful day when you were crying after your fight with your mother over becoming a stripper, our men psychically made you bold enough--and horny enough--to sit and grind on your teacher's lap. They also made him enjoy your grinding so much that he wouldn't think about getting in trouble."

"It was the same with Mr. Hanson," said a masked man who was squatting beside Camilla and fondling her tits. "Our men intensified the temptation in his mind to go to the massage parlour you were working at; they, much more than you, made it impossible for him to resist you. It was the same with all your other teachers, especially the gang-bang you had in the abandoned building with Williams, Burgess, Johnson, Langella, and Knowles. To be sure, you unconsciously put the psychic fire in their hearts to gang-bang you, but our Vancouver men fanned that flame strongly enough to make your teachers willing enough to risk their careers, and risk being accused of gang-rape." He squeezed her tits harder and pinched the nipples. "Our men, much more than you, made all that sex happen--even with your elementary school teachers."

"Now our Vancouver associates' plan was to cause all your deaths, either through psychically-induced despair and madness, or in Satanic rites of human sacrifice," said another masked man, who was enjoying watching the double penetration from up close. "When you'd died, your souls--filled with the energy of lust and fear in your Nigrovum--would psychically influence the living, making them do whatever we wanted them to do. We'd make them become more lustful, materialistic, and gluttonous, buying all the things our corporations produce and making us rich. Also, we'd make them more fearful, so as to support the policies of the politicians we put in office, keeping our men in power."

"The plan wasn't very good," said the masked man standing by the one she was blowing. "The influence of ghosts on the living is nowhere near as strong as that of the living on the living, so after you burned the Grouse Mountain mansion to the ground, we regrouped and made a better plan." He smiled as he saw the cock come out of her mouth and spray its jizz all over her eyes, her nose, her lips, and her right cheek.

Her ass-fucker and pussy-fucker also pulled their cocks out: the first man blew his load first on her right buttock, then on her anal cleft, dripping some come around her gaping anal orifice, then on her left buttock; the second man moved up so his cock would be right under her breasts, then he aimed up and shot his come first on her left breast, then on her right nipple, then in the middle, and finally on her left breast again, just right of the nipple.

Camilla got off the second man so he could get up, then he and her ass-fucker got some handkerchiefs and jars. They wiped her come off the second man's crotch, making it fall into the jars. When his crotch was all clean, he pulled up his pants. He and her ass-fucker zipped up their pants and sat on the couch, ready to watch another three men have a go at her.

Those next three men had been watching her up close during the first gang-bang. They turned her over and lay her on her back. One knelt over her head--upside-down to him--then unzipped his pants, pulled out his hard-on, and put it in her mouth. The second man put his cock between her tits and wrapped them tightly around it. The third man slid his cock inside her soaking wet pussy.

"As another of our associates had told you before," her former ass-fucker said, "it took us a while to find you when you'd moved to Toronto with Candice; but as soon as we found you, we got to work planning. Our man who found you when you were fucking Alex McVie in Queen's Park? He sensed your growing desire for your father."

"What at first had been a subconscious but intense Electra Complex, Nigrovum then expanded into something much stronger," said the man who'd come on her face. "Still, you were resisting your desires. We decided to have some fun with your forbidden urges."

"We were the ones who turned up the heat, making you want to fuck and suck your dad," said her former pussy-fucker. "Seeing you joyfully plunge into incest was so much fun, it makes a gang-bang like this seem like Sunday school in comparison. Then watching you plan to murder Carrie, and how you fucked that up--wow!"

She came all over her current pussy-fucker's cock and balls. The man fucking her tits was squeezing them the way Mr. Finch used to when he fucked her in her old elementary school in Vancouver; soon, he blew his load all over her tits and upper chest, near her neck. Her pussy-fucker pulled his cock out, jerked off briefly, and came all over her belly, leaving a small pool in her navel. These two men got up, got handkerchiefs and a jar, then wiped her come off her pussy-fucker's cock and balls and put the come in the jar. Then they pulled up their pants and sat on chairs by the couch.

Another two masked men pulled down their pants and got on top of her. They pushed her legs up so they'd be on either side of the man she was still blowing; then the two new men slid their hard cocks in her pussy and asshole.

"Though in Vancouver, relatively little of the psychic manipulation was from you, much more of what you were doing back in Toronto really was your own growing mental powers," her former tit-fucker said. "Sometimes we intensified things a bit, like our augmenting the terror of your later incubus dreams; but more often we just psychically monitored you, sat back, and laughed."

"It was only when Garth Van Duyne had sex with you that we really began to dominate your life, and not just your sex life," said her former ass-fucker. "For that's when we began to implement our plan to use Nigrovum to control the entire Earth, ironically, by pretending to want to save it!" All the masked men laughed.




Camilla Ch. 101



The balls of the man she was blowing upside-down were slapping against her nose, and stank of piss. Her tongue was frantically flickering, trying to get him to come as soon as possible so she could get him off of her. Terrified by what she was hearing, but thrilled from the pleasure those two cocks down below were giving her, she came all over them. The Nigrovum in her come was teeming with the energy of lust and fear...just the way the masked men wanted it.

"You know how Prime Minister Van Duyne really died?" asked her second pussy-fucker. "We killed him, as we did the American president, the prime minister of England, and the German chancellor. How? The same way we killed Mr. Chen, Wayne, Mr. Baker, Mr. Leroy, and many others: by intensifying feelings of despair and madness in them! Nigrovum expands energy, as you know; we just expand it even more...just enough to serve our purposes."

"After our Green leaders died, we blamed their deaths on a believable scapegoat, Muslim fanatics; we falsified evidence with the greatest of psychic ease, and gave it to our associates in the media, like Ted Weinstein," said her former tit-fucker. "Now much of the world is practically a police state, all in our control. And we owe so much of our success to you, sweetheart, and to girls like you in other countries, girls we've used to spread Nigrovum around the world, and make the masses into our obedient sheep. The energy in the Nigrovum of your come keeps the masses blindly fearing and desiring, as you've always done, instead of thinking. That's how we keep our power over them."

"The come we're collecting from you tonight, as well as the come we collect from other girls like you all over the world, will ensure that we never run out of that enslaving lust-energy," said her former ass-fucker. "Talk about sustainable energy!" The men laughed. "And wait will you see what we have planned for your son!"

The man she was blowing finally came in her mouth; she gladly swallowed every drop, hoping to receive the energy of power and dominance he and the other men had in their Nigrovum, so she could use it to turn the tide of their power and possibly save herself and Eros. She came all over the crotches of her pussy-fucker and ass-fucker again. They pulled their cocks out of her holes, then got up while the man she'd blown picked her up so she'd be sitting on her knees. The man she'd blown put his cock in his pants, zipped himself up, and went over to sit with the fully-dressed masked men. The other two men pointed their cocks over her upturned face and jacked off; about ten seconds later, they rained bukkake all over her face. She licked their come off her lips, hoping to gain more of that dominant Nigrovum-energy.

Again, those two men used handkerchiefs to scoop her come off themselves and put it in jars for future rituals. The next three men pulled down their pants and went over to fuck her. She was made to get on all fours again after one of the new men got under her to fuck her pussy. The second of the new men got behind her to fuck her ass, and the third stood before her, feeding his cock into her salivating mouth.

As these new men's cocks were going in and out of her three gaping holes, she--in her weakened state--did her best to use her psychic powers to suck the previous men's come through the pores of her skin, so she'd have more of the masked men's power.

Her second ass-fucker, all cleaned up, pulled up his pants and held his jar of her come in his hand. He said, "Thanks again, Camilla. With all this come, loaded with the energy of not only desire, but also of fear, we can do rituals to ensure the winning of more supporters for our wars in the Arab world. It will also give us more support for our emergency laws, to make the fearful feel secure; then we can suspend democracy, and eventually eradicate it forever."

Her three fuckers were shoving their cocks in and out of her with quickly increasing ferocity. She hoped they'd come inside her, so she could absorb their power more easily. She climaxed again, making a puddle of come all over the thighs of the man under her. Then the three men pulled their cocks out of her, and the man under her shoved her aside so he could get up. The three men had her kneel, and they stood in a circle around her. She held the cocks of two of the men, masturbating them while the third man jerked himself off. She had her mouth opened wide, ready to swallow as much of their come as she could get in her mouth. Instead, the men used their psychic powers to make sure their jizz sprayed all over her face, away from her mouth: she got it in her eyes, on her cheeks, and on her chin; but none of it even touched her lips. Her tongue licked around, trying to get at the come.

Those men pulled up their pants after getting her come off her pussy-fucker's crotch and into jars. That man smiled a particularly malicious smile whenever he looked at Camilla, and his mask, once worn by ancient Greek comic actors, looked especially eerie to her.

There was just one more masked man who hadn't yet enjoyed Camilla. He had a particular fetish: he wanted to receive a golden shower from her. He got naked and lay on the living room floor.

She, always in a daze and under the men's absolute control, squatted over him and began pissing on his chest. He smiled as he felt her golden liquid splash on his nipples and chest hairs; he could feel the Nigrovum in her piss slip through the pores of his skin and eventually get into his blood. She moved up to his head, pouring her piss all over his neck and face; he enjoyed feeling it splash on his chin, his lips, and into his nostrils and eyes.

She shook with terror from hearing everything the men had said, especially from hearing they had plans for Eros, and from knowing she would forget it all after the night's ordeal was over. With no control over her body and mind, she couldn't even sob in her helplessness.

She got up slowly after her last drops of piss had squirted out. Then the masked men began a brief ritual. She could sense what they were doing, and wanted to block them; but they were already psychically blocking her from doing so.

They visualized the come she'd sprayed on their skin--not her come in the jars, but the come still leaking in the pores of their skin--and imagined its Nigrovum-energy of lust and fear moving out of their bodies. They did the same for the Nigrovum in her piss on the last man's body. Then they visualized all the come they'd doused her body with, and imagined its Nigrovum-energy--that of dominance and power--leaving her body. The dominant and submissive energies were made to trade places: the men felt the dominant energy come back inside their bodies, and Camilla was helpless to prevent the submissive energy come back inside her body.

Then three of the men picked her up while another opened the door leading out to the balcony. A third man, the one with the ancient Greek comic mask, took it off and looked straight in her eyes with even more malice than before.

"Remember me, Camilla?" he asked.

Though still in a psychically-induced daze, she was able--through her photographic memory--to remember him instantly. Her face went white with fear: she saw Jim, the voyeur with the camera in Vancouver who'd watched her masturbate when she was sick in bed!

"You thought the masked men were terrorizing you just to get revenge for burning down the mansion?" Jim asked angrily. "Well, they don't want revenge, but I do. You humiliated me at that pervert party you were having with those fags, remember? One of them, Michael, hit me and kicked me. Being beaten up by a fag has to be the most humiliating thing ever! Worse than that, though, is you led me on about wanting to have sex with me after slutting it up in front of my camera, then you rejected me and threw me out of your room. That was the worst blue balls ever! You humiliated me a dozen years ago, but now, finally, I can have my revenge!" He put his mask back on.

He helped the three men holding her up to carry her out to the balcony; there they held her over the railing, ready to throw her. Totally unable to scream or resist their psychic power, she--with only come to cover her nakedness--was paralyzed with fear.

"I was imploding with rage for two days after what you and that queer had done to me," Jim continued. "But then I saw you by a park, naked and slutting it up, as usual. You masturbated and came on the grass. After you got in that Candice bitch's car and drove off with her, I saw a man in a black suit go by and pick the grass with your come on it. He put the grass in a jar, just like the men here did. I went up and asked him what he was doing. At first, he didn't know who I was, and he looked at me with an evil eye: I began to feel a pain in my chest, as if I was going to have a heart attack or something. Then the man recognized me as the nephew of one of his associates."

"You almost done, Jim?" a masked man asked. "It's fun giving her a little psychological terror before throwing her, but we do wanna drop her and get on with more important stuff."

"OK, Uncle Steve, almost," Jim said. "My uncle here let me join the masked men, and even promised to let me be the one to kill you in the mansion, for their great Satanic sacrifice. That all went to hell when you burned the building down. I was lucky enough to be by the front door when we heard the explosion in the basement; but I was unlucky not to get my chance to kill you. Now I do!"

"Is that it?" another masked man said with growing impatience.

"Hold on!" JIm snapped. "The psychic force field surrounding our room has everything sound-proofed. Nobody will hear a thing we say, alright? I tried to find you, Candice, and those two fags, Michael and his butt-buddy, Mr. Pierce, but you and Candice moved to Toronto, and the fags got all spiritual with their Nigrovum, just like that Indian doctor. Well, anyway, now I can finally have my revenge on you. Drop her!"

They threw her over, and now she could finally scream. As she was falling and screaming, she felt the psychic presence of Guy and Dirk, the dominant bisexual men whose cock and ass she'd burned with bug-spray-soaked Vaseline. We once threatened to throw you out of a window naked, they mentally told her. By psychically helping the masked men hold you still before they threw you, we've made good on our threat. Wait'll you see what we have planned for your son in the afterlife: ooh, that burning passion! Everything that goes around, comes around, bitch!

She splashed into the deep end of a backyard swimming pool, since the masked men had psychically guided her body to fall there, to ensure that she survived.

"Uncle Steve!" Jim complained. "She was supposed to die! You promised me!"

"We promised you revenge," his uncle said. "We need Camilla alive. Killing her in a sacrifice was an old idea back in Vancouver. It was a weak plan. We have more that we need her to do here in this world. She humiliated you, and you got to humiliate her: justice is done; you got your revenge."

Flapping her arms and legs frantically in the deep end, Camilla felt the come she'd had all over her skin and in her pussy come off and mix with the water. With all that come now in the water, come that was now filled with the energy of fear and desire, no longer with dominance and power, the next day's swimmers would get it all over themselves, as the masked men had planned.

'Goth-looking' Camilla got out of the water, uninjured and clean of come, but naked and shivering in the cool Montreal summer night. Though she was now freed from the psychic bonds of the masked men, she was made to forget everything that had just happened in the room, and she was even made to forget about her car in front of the apartment building. Having no idea where she was, she had to act fast and find some shelter.

People looked out their apartment windows, looking for someone outside to whom they could match the screams they'd heard. She ran out of the swimming area and onto the grass of the backyard lawn.

Finally free to use her own psychic powers, Camilla scanned the area for a desirable man to spend the night with. Though she didn't want to cheat on Cameron, she was desperate to find protection, and her sexy body was her only ace in the hole for procuring such protection.

After several minutes of psychically scanning the area for anyone with the kind of body and personality she'd like, she found a tall, thin, forty-something man going for a midnight stroll. She hid behind a tree and waited for him to pass by.

"Psst!" she whispered. "Hey, you! Sir, can you help me?"

"Who, me?" he said, looking over at her and straining his eyes in the dark. "What d'you want?"

"Please help me," she said. "I'm lost, and I need a place to spend the night."

Approving of her pretty face, and wondering what she had hiding behind the tree, he said, "I have my own place; but what's in it for me?"

"This is." She proudly walked out and displayed her nudity by a streetlight. She turned around for him, then spread her legs and bent over so he could see her pussy and asshole. Looking back at him upside-down from between her legs, she asked, "Do you like what you see?"

His jaw almost hit the ground, and his dick was almost perpendicular to his body. "What's not to like? You can stay at my place for as long as you like, darling."

She quickly went with him to his home, a small house just down the street. He led her to his bedroom, and she lay on his bed on her back while he tore off his clothes in a frenzy. He put his face between her legs and began licking her pussy.

His tongue vibrated against her labia and clitoris while his finger tickled her asshole. He pushed his finger inside a few inches, and he sucked on each of her labia in turn. Then he put his tongue as deep inside her cunt as he could, flickering it against her G-spot. She was running her fingers through his hair and squealing with pleasure.

He took his tongue out of her pussy and started licking her asshole. His finger massaged her hard clitoris. After another minute or so of this fingering and licking, she came all over his face. Then he got up, licking her come off his lips, and aimed his hard-on for her pussy.

On top of her in the missionary position, he slowly slid his cock inside. Her sighs went up in an ascending crescendo, and when the tip of his cock poked against her A-spot a few times, she came again. He began pushing in and out aggressively, fondling and squeezing her tits as he fucked her. She screamed and came again after another minute of his thrusts.

Finally, when he was getting closer to orgasm, he pulled his cock out. She sat up on the bed, and took his cock in her mouth. Looking up at him with a slutty smile, she licked the underside of his cock and kissed the tip. She wrapped her lips around the knob when he had reached the point of no return. He blasted his come in her mouth, and she swallowed it all, not missing a drop.

They lay on the bed together and cuddled.

"Thank you," she said in sighs. "For giving me...a place to stay."

"Thank you," he panted. "For giving me..a good time."

After a half hour of catching their breath and her explaining her situation to him, they fell asleep.

****************

The next morning, he gave her a T-shirt and a pair of denim shorts. Then he took her to look for her car, since she finally sensed its nearby presence with the help of Nigrovum. She quickly found it, and she went with him to a clothing store. She bought a dress, put it on, and gave him back his clothes. She drove him back to his home.

"Thanks again for all of your help," she told him. "You're a very nice man. Bye."

"No need to thank me," he said as he got out of her car. "I was a very lucky man. Bye."

She drove to her house as quickly as she could. When she walked through the front door, she saw Cameron and Eros sitting in the kitchen with frowns on their faces. Eros ran up to her, crying.

"Mommy, where were you?" he asked in sobs. "I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, baby," she said, hugging him. "It's difficult to explain."

"Well, explain to me," Cameron said, approaching her. "Where the hell were you? We were worried sick about you."

"Honey, I think the masked men are here in Montreal," she said. "I don't remember what I did last night, but I'm sure it wasn't good."

"Oh, shit! The masked men again!" Cameron said. "Well, we can't just keep moving." Also, he was doubting if she was even telling him the truth, since she didn't seem as scared as she was in Toronto.

"I know," she said. "We'll just have to protect ourselves as best we can."

She'd psychically blocked his mental access to her memory of what had happened after she was thrown into the pool. At one point, though, without her knowing, the psychic block was removed with the utmost subtlety, and Cameron felt the lovemaking of the other man. Cameron said nothing, and guarded his feelings so she wouldn't know he knew. He just went into the living room, sat on the sofa, turned on the TV, and sulked. She went with Eros into the kitchen, and she made him a sandwich for lunch.

Cameron wasn't the one who had removed her psychic block, though; the masked men weren't the ones, either. Eros, inspired by Norman Bates' killing of his mother's lover, was beginning to brew a psychic strychnine of his own, so he could get his mother back, all to himself.



Camilla Ch. 102



Unconscious Camilla's endless memory visions brought her to one six years before the aquarium incident. She was 31 at the time, though Nigrovum was making her look like a 23-year-old.

One class she was teaching was Incest In World Literature: as well as English writing, the course included English translations of prose and poetry from various languages.

The first book she lectured on, in September of that year, was an English translation of Mrs. Caldwell Speaks to Her Son, a novel by Camilo Jose Cela. As she was lecturing, she found it hard to take her eyes off one cute, thin, brown-haired boy who sat at the front of the class.

"Mrs. Caldwell, whose son Eliacim has died, is going mad," Camilla said. "Obsessed with her boy and feeling guilty about having incestuous thoughts about him, she writes him letters."

She briefly glanced in the beautiful brown eyes of her boy student, and suddenly felt her pussy getting a little wet. After this brief pause, noting how her students were looking strangely at her for stopping, she continued her lecture.

"Eliacim has died aboard a navy ship and has been buried at sea," she said, sweating slightly and briefly pausing again after looking at the young man. "Here's an interesting quote: 'You, my son, when you were a little child, lived in constant fear, your eyes inhabited by atrocious and permanent inexplicable fears.'"

Camilla's pussy was getting wetter. Knowing she didn't normally get that horny all by herself just from looking at a handsome young male student's face, she suspected this was more psychic interfering from the masked men. Now her own eyes had atrocious, inexplicable fears of their own. 

That young brunet student of hers had his own worries: though he found 'The Fox' very attractive, he felt alarmed by the lewdness he saw in her eyes whenever she looked at him, which was constant. 

After the class ended, she went to her office and sat at her desk. She, finally cooled off, thought about how she hadn't been terrorized by the masked men since that time, over a year before, when she, naked, had been thrown out of an apartment building and into a swimming pool. She'd felt inappropriate moments of horniness in class before, back in her undergraduate years, but now she was a teacher: having acquired knowledge and respect among her academic peers, she absolutely dreaded the possibility of being shamed before her students and made to get naked and sexual, as she had with Chris. 

Still, that brunet boy in her new class never stopped getting her hot.

***************

Several weeks later, Camilla was walking by the university theatre and had noticed some ad posters for new plays that were about to be performed. One of the posters promoted a new French-language production of Hosanna, the play she'd directed in English translation back in her undergraduate years, with Sean in the title role! 

She looked at the names of the cast, and saw, in the title role, Alain Charcot, her cute brunet student! There the boy was, in drag and heavily made up. 

"Isn't he gorgeous?" she sighed. A thrill shot through her body, from her pussy and tailbone all the way up to her head.

Then she noted a warning at the bottom of the poster: adult themes and nudity.

"My God," she gasped in lascivious delight. "I'm getting a chance to see that beautiful boy naked. Please be a full-frontal display." She immediately rushed over to the box office and bought herself a ticket.

***************

That night, she went to the first performance of the play. Alain's acting was atrociously bad, but she didn't care: she just wanted to see him take off his dress and display his nakedness before her gluttonous eyes. 

Indeed, at the end of the play, 'Hosanna' removed 'her' Cleopatra dress, black bra and panties, and stood naked before 'her' lover Cuirette. At first, Alain had his back to the audience, so Camilla, sitting in the front row, in the centre, could ogle his cute little buttocks.

"Oh, please turn around, sweetie," she whispered. "Please turn around; don't be shy."

Then Alain did, almost mechanically. Thinking it was her use of Nigrovum that made him turn around, Camilla's eyes greedily poured all over the boy's soft, thin, delectable flesh. Her heart was pounding and her breaths were heavy, quick, and loud from seeing his hairless chest and his penis, draped with bushy brown pubic hair. Wearing a miniskirt, she put her finger in her panties and began fingering her hard clitoris. 

Curious to know how large his penis got when erect, but sensitive enough not to embarrass him before everyone, Camilla used Nigrovum to give him a partial erection. She brought his dick to its full length and thickness, but didn't let it point up. 

He looked out at the audience with nervous fear in his eyes, abashedly unable to understand why he was suddenly getting a hard-on; he didn't even know why he'd turned around so everyone could see him frontally nude. The original plan was for him to be seen naked only from behind. 

Seeing the embarrassment in Alain's eyes, Camilla immediately removed her psychic control over his penis, and let him go limp. She, however, creamed her panties.

****************

The next day, her class with him ended. As he was about to walk out the door, she said, "Alain? Can I have a word with you, please?"

"Oh, uh, OK," he said shyly, hoping it would only be about their class. Everyone else left, and only he and Camilla were in the room. "What is it, Dr. Fox?"

"Alain," she said in lecherous sighs, "I saw you last night in Hosanna."

"Oh, yeah," he said shyly, embarrassed that his horny teacher knew what he looked like naked--with an erection.

"You have such a beautiful body, sweetie," she panted. "I got so excited seeing you naked at the end of the play. I"m sorry for being so forward with you, but nobody's ever made me feel this way before."

"Well, uh, thank you," he said with uncertainty in his eyes. "You're very beautiful, too, Dr. Fox, but you're my teacher, and I don't think it would be appropriate if we got too--"

"How many more performances do you have left?"

"Oh, uh, three. The critics panned my performance, so we're not getting any more performances than three."

"Good enough for me. I'm gonna see them all. I'm sorry, but I can't help myself. You're so beautiful."

"Uh, OK. I hope I don't get another stiffie tonight."

"I hope you do."

He frowned and looked away in fear.

****************

Indeed, she did see all three of the other performances, and psychically ensured that she would always get the same seat as before, front and centre, so she could get the best and closest view of his body. 

Every time at the end, Alain felt compelled to turn around and face the audience with a partially erect penis, though Camilla wasn't the one psychically getting him hard. Teary-eyed and panting, she masturbated each time to orgasm, creaming her panties three more times. 

"He's even more beautiful than Sean was," she whispered to herself.

Though the rest of the audience clapped merely out of politeness, she clapped most enthusiastically, causing more than a few heads to turn among her neighbours. Alain, seeing her among them, could only blush.

*****************

The day after the last performance, she was finishing her class with Alain, and everyone was heading out of the classroom. Alain was really hoping to get through the crowd of students before Camilla could talk to him, but he wasn't able to. 

"Alain," she said. "Can I have a word with you, please?"

"Oh, uh, OK," he said, his timid voice cracking. He was nervous and conflicted whenever around her, for though he was sure that sex with The Fox would be fantastic, he was worried that she'd use their soon-to-be sexual relationship to her advantage. When everyone had left except him and Camilla, he stammered, "So you s-saw me again last night, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did, you sexy boy," she sighed. "How old are you, sweetie?"

"20. Look, I'm flattered and all, but--"

"Baby, I find you very attractive. I'm not going to mince matters. I want to have sex with you. I have a good body: I may be 31 years old, but I assure you, I have the body of a 23-year-old. I don't have any flab, my tits don't sag, and I'm not lying to you. Most important of all, I'm an excellent lover. We'll have a lot of fun in bed, guaranteed."

"I'm sure the sex will be great, but--"

"I won't use our sexual relationship to make demands on you. Your grades in this class will in no way be influenced by whether you please me in bed or not. No strings attached: after we fuck, we'll go back to our normal teacher/student relationship, for by then, I'll be sated of you."

"I'd like to believe that, but I'm still not sure--"

"Sweetie, I'm married, and have a 12-year-old son. What we'll be doing together will be nothing more than sex, I promise."

"Really?" he asked, still nervous, but excited at the prospect of fucking The Fox without any bad consequences.

"Really," she assured him. "I'll be discreet about this, as I expect you to be. Let me buy you dinner at Chez Louis tonight. Then we'll find a hotel. What do you say?" He paused, wavering. "Come on, sweetie: don't be shy. I don't bite--unless you want me to." She grinned lewdly at him.

"Well, uh, alright then," he timidly said.

*******************

At Chez Louis that night, they discussed the Green Party as they were waiting for their food.

"Oh, come now, Alain," she scoffed. "How can a gentle political party, devoted to improving the environment, be a danger to Canada and to the world?"

"They've been taken over by extremists," he insisted. "The Green Party isn't the party it used to be ten years ago. That's what the Earth Party says, the ones who left the Greens."

"Oh, who listens to the Earth Party?" she asked.

"Well, that's just it; no one listens to anyone but the Green Party, here in Canada and in any other country they have their tight grip on," he said. "The Greens have stifled real, meaningful debate. They aren't a real ecologically-minded movement anymore. They're eco-fascists, forcing their agenda on everyone and bombing countries like Iran."

"The Greens were forced into these wars," she said.

"They chose to wage them. And I don't buy the idea that Muslim terrorists killed Prime Minister Van Duyne. I think it was an inside job."

"Alain, the pictures and video we saw on the news made it pretty clear who killed him."

"Don't believe everything the media tells you, Dr. Fox."

"Don't believe everything the conspiracy theorist crazies tell you, Alain. Come on, the Greens care about the environment, our Mother Earth."

"That doesn't mean anything. The Nazis had pro-environmentalist policies, you know."

"Those cruel bastards?" Camilla asked with an incredulous sneer. "Those haters?"

"Yes, they did. Look it up if you don't believe me. They hated non-Aryan people, but vegetarian Hitler loved animals, as did many high-ranking Nazis. They believed in the Dauerwald, the 'perpetual forest'. They tried to curb air pollution and improve animal welfare. It was all tied in with their nationalism: a strong Germany was an ecologically healthy Germany."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really. They weren't able to enforce their pro-environment laws very well, especially before the lead-up to WWII; but neither have the Greens been very successful at enforcing anti-pollution and pro-animal laws. The Nazis were green in theory, as is the Green Party. We all know what else the Nazis did, and I believe the Greens aren't much better."

"Oh, come on, Alain. It surely isn't all that bad." Their food arrived.

"Really," Alain insisted. "The Nazis lowered populations, and we all know how. The Greens also advocate lowering populations; certainly all the Muslims they're killing is putting that idea into practice. They're eco-fascists: I don't trust them."

"Wow, you're smart and sexy," she said. "Your mind is as passionate as your body is beautiful."

"I still don't know what possessed me to play a drag queen on the stage. I'm no actor: the reviews panning my performance in Hosanna proved that. And I still can't believe I was actually willing to get naked in front of so many people. And what possessed me to turn around and let everyone see my cock? And how did I get hard-ons? I wasn't turned on or anything."

The masked men knew the answers to all those questions, of course.

"I, of course, was incredibly turned on," Camilla said, stabbing some food on her fork and putting it into Alain's mouth. 

****************

After dinner, she drove him to a cheap hotel far away from where her house was. They went into their room, and she sat on the bed. He stood before her.

"OK, baby," she said. "Strip for me."

"Oh, uh,..." he stammered nervously.

"Oh, come one, sweetie," she said. "Don't be shy. I've already seen it all. I know what every inch of you looks like. What's it gonna hurt to show me again? Come on, I'm on fire. Show me that beautiful body of yours again."

"OK," he said, unzipping his pants. She grinned as she watched his pants come down. He removed his shoes and socks, then he unbuttoned and took off his white dress shirt. Now he had only his brown briefs on.

"Come on, sweetie," she said. "Let's see him one more time."

"OK," he said timidly, then pulled down his underwear. Since she looked very hot in her black evening dress, he already had a hard-on, which bounced up and down, delighting her. 

"Beautiful," she said. "Now, turn around for me."

"Alright," he said, turning around and showing her his little behind. 

"Spread your legs and bend over for me."

"Uh, OK," he said, bending over as asked, though particularly nervously. 

Looking at his asshole, she asked, "Do you ever get homosexual feelings?"

"No, not at all," he said with an agitated voice. "Why?"

"Because I'd just love to watch you getting sodomized by a big gay man, then blowing him."

Suddenly, he started shaking and coughing. "Please don't talk about things like that; I get bad flashbacks."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sensing psychological trauma in him. "What happened to you to make you feel so upset suddenly?"

"Well, I...I...got raped by my father...when I was ten." He began to cry.

"Oh, my God," she said. "I'm so sorry. Come here, sweetie." He went over to her, and she put her arms around him. "My poor baby: come to mommy."

"Why would you call yourself my mom?" he asked, sneering as he wept.

"Oh, I just feel my maternal instinct swelling whenever I see a cute boy like you crying." She rocked him back and forth in her arms. "I'm sorry for making you feel that way, baby. Poor Alain." She kissed him on the cheek.

"My mom...never cared. She looked the other way...when my dad was...oh!" He began sobbing louder.

"Well, I care," she said, kissing him on the cheek again. "If she wasn't a good mommy to you, then I will. Think of me as the mama you never had, but should have had." She got up and unzipped her dress at the back. She let it fall to the floor, then kicked off her high heels. Wearing no underwear, she was now naked. He looked up at her, and immediately stopped crying, for he was amazed at the body he saw before him. "Didn't I tell you I look great for a 31-year-old?"

"Yeah, wow," he said, feeling his erection come back. "But isn't it kind of weird, you calling yourself my mom, then me fucking you?"

"I dunno; I think it's kind of kinky. As long as it's mutually consenting. Get on the bed on your back, and I'll get on top of you," she said. 

He got on the bed as asked, and she got on top of him in the 69 position. She put his cock in her mouth, and he began licking her pussy. She sucked away with great eagerness, worshipping the phallus she'd been coveting ever since she saw him naked the first time on that stage. He put his finger in her pussy, then started licking her asshole. 

She gently shook his balls in her hand, and wrapped her upper lip tightly around his bulging corpus spongiosum. His finger went all the way inside her cunt, tickling her A-spot. After a few more seconds of this tickling, she came all over his face. 

"Wow," he said, licking the come off his lips.

"Oh!" she squealed. "That felt good. Now, let me sit on your cock."

He lay on the bed passively as she slowly came down on his upward-pointed cock, feeding it in her wet pussy. She sighed and squealed as his large member filled up her hole to capacity, rubbing against her G-spot and stimulating every vaginal wall. After his cock had gotten all the way in and poked away inside there a few times, she came again, screaming in whistle register.

She looked down in his eyes lovingly as she bounced up and down on his cock, as though she wanted to heal all his pain with her cunt. He looked up at her as he continued fucking her, finding it oddly titillating that she was behaving like a maternal figure and a lover at the same time. That she'd been teaching a course on incest in world literature made it all the odder. 

The Nigrovum I pass on to you will give you strength, she thought as his cock brought her closer and closer to a third orgasm. You just have to learn how to use it right.

Her screams grew louder and higher in pitch, and she soon came again, flooding his lap. Then, when he was about to come, she got off him and brought her mouth down to his cock. She jerked him off and aimed his cock at her wide-open mouth. He shot his orgasm in straight, powerful bursts right into her mouth; she swallowed every last drop.

She then lay beside him and they cuddled. "Tell me...about your...family experiences...as a child," she sighed as they slowly caught their breath. 

"My dad...beat me, humiliated me, and fucked me," he panted. "What more...is there to say?"

Hugging him close as a mother would her crying son, she said, "That jerk. My daddy...would never...have treated me...like that."

"You're lucky," he said, fighting back the sobs.

"Well, not really," she said. "My mom...was a real bitch. My family life...wasn't much better...than yours, really. And your mom...didn't help you much, did she?"

"Not at all."

"Well, I'll be your new mommy," Camilla said to him, as if speaking to her son. "Ours is a loving incest, though there won't be...any more fucking...now that you've...satisfied me. I guess that's why...you were resistant...to my advances before, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "Me fucking an older woman just reminded me of another older person who fucked me."

"Well, I'm a mother figure who'll never do you wrong," she said, hugging him tightly again and kissing him on the cheek. "Just like your Mother Earth will always love you. So, to show your appreciation, vote for Mother Earth. Vote Green Party, always. Even if you don't agree with everything they do, they will do what's right."

"I'll vote Green Party, always," he repeated in a monotone voice, looking up at the ceiling with a vacant facial expression.

"Good," she said, getting out of bed. "Well, I have to get home now. My husband and son are probably wondering where I am. Thank you for giving me such a good time. As I said before, there are no strings attached." She put on her high heels and dress. "And I'll always be a mother figure to you, if you need it. Good night, sweetie." She walked toward the door.

"Good night," he said. "And thank you for comforting me."

"My pleasure," she said, walking out of the room. 

******************

Before she walked in the house, Camilla had already begun psychically blocking Cameron so he wouldn't suspect she'd been cheating. He was in the living room, watching the political debates between the Green Party and the Earth Party on TV. 




Camilla Ch. 102



Camilla went upstairs to speak to her son Eros, who was just finishing his homework. 

"Hi, baby," she said, walking into his room and kissing him on the forehead.

"Hi, Mom," he said, looking up at her and grinning fondly. 

Camilla looked at one of his notebooks. Where his name was, it said 'Eros Neville M' (as in Mennon), instead of 'Eros Fox'. "Why didn't you write your real name on your notebook, sweetie?" she asked with a slight frown.

"But Mom, this is my real name," he said. "Cameron isn't my dad. I don't have a dad. Don't you remember when you explained it all to me? That you created me inside your womb without any man helping you. It was so beautiful to know I came out of your divine body all perfect."

"You sure did, so strong, and handsome, and talented, and smart," she said, hugging the unusually large boy. "Though you sure came out huge. What a giant you are: my great big little boy!" She kissed him on the forehead again. "Still, Cameron is your step-father, and I wish you could accept him. We've been living together now for six years. I've told you how insecure he is; he needs love. He's a good man. Why won't you give him a chance?"

"I've tried, but it's hard." As they were talking, Eros--keeping his mother distracted by the conversation--was ever so subtly removing her psychic barrier and allowing Cameron, little by little, to know that she'd been with another man. Eros was undoing her mental barrier so slowly, so gradually, that she didn't at all know he was doing it. 

"Well, I'll leave you to finish your homework, then you go right to bed, OK?"

"Yes, Mom," he said.

She left his bedroom and went into hers.

Cameron by now was feeling her lust-energy with Alain all over her. He staggered out of the living room and went into the bathroom to shit. He sat on the toilet, brooding as he crapped.

I knew it, he thought. I knew I'd never be enough of a man to satisfy Camilla. She's been screwing around, on and off, for several years now. I can't blame her; I'm a lousy husband. Her son hates me, and I hate myself, as usual. I don't know how much longer I can hang on. He began softly sobbing, while psychically blocking Camilla, for he didn't want her to know that he knew what she'd done.

Eros finished his homework with a smile, and went to bed. Work, my poison, work, he thought as he lay on his back in bed. It'll only be a matter of time before Cameron either divorces Mom, or kills himself. The Nigrovum in his blood will only hasten his despair. Good: then I'll have Mom all to myself.

*******************

37-year-old Camilla relived this vision all horrified. Now that she had more psychic access to everything that had really been happening over those years, she was learning things she wished she could unlearn. But she had to know the truth, in her desperate hope to find a way to thwart the masked men. 



Camilla Ch. 103



As 37-year-old, unconscious Camilla continued reliving her memories from between five and six years before the aquarium incident, she was appalled to note Eros' psychic involvement in the slow but sure disintegration of her marriage with Cameron. The boy, twelve and going on thirteen, was already quite adept with the powers of Nigrovum that he was born with: after all, he was half Camilla, half Nigrovum, so he was a natural born psychic.

Eros would scan Cameron's mind for all of his feelings of self-hate and despair over Camilla's cheating on him; then the boy would simply use Nigrovum to expand those feelings a touch beyond what the microscopic ovoid aliens in Cameron's blood were already expanding. So subtle was this extra expansion that neither Cameron nor Camilla had been aware that Eros was doing it.

The boy would also scan his mother's mind for all her guilt feelings about sleeping around behind Cameron's back, and subtly expand them in the same way, so as to ensure she'd never have the moral strength to confront her husband with her slutty ways. Indeed, this would ensure that she and Cameron would be increasingly non-communicative over the next year or two, and the end of their marriage would thus be inevitable.

Camilla, 32 at the time, fully understood how shameful it was that she'd been more comforting to Alain than to her own husband, both of them low in self-esteem, but the younger man far more appealing to her. She hadn't slept with Alain since their time in the hotel, but she wasn't having sex with Cameron either.

Though her desire to have sex with her husband was moribund to say the least, the latency period that Camilla had psychically imposed on Eros was gone, now that he was entering adolescence. One afternoon in mid-June, he was standing outside his school, waiting for his mother to pick him up and drive him home. Three young men--grade twelve students about to graduate from a nearby high school--were also waiting nearby for Camilla, since they were as fascinated with Eros' hot 'Goth-looking' mom as he was.

"I wonder what his mom's wearing today?" one of those older boys said, deliberately audible enough for Eros to hear. "Black spandex and high heels? I hope so."

"Me, too," said another of the three boys. "She is so fuckable."

Eros, who with his unusually large size could easily have beaten the three boys in a fight even without psychic powers, just silently ignored them as best he could, since out of his love for his mom he wanted to respect her wish not to fight.

"Why won't he fight?" the third boy asked. "He's a giant for his age, but such a wuss. I don't get it."

"He's a gentle giant, and a mama's boy," said the first boy.

"I'll bet he wants his mom, too," said the second boy. "How could he not? I'll bet he wants to say to her, 'Mommy! I've been good. Can I sleep with you tonight...please?" The other boys laughed, while Eros tried desperately to control his anger. The second boy continued his mockery. "'Mommy, I've eaten all my vegetables. I've finished my homework. I cleaned my bedroom. See? I've been good. Can I, Mommy? Please, please, Mommy. Please!'" All three boys now had red faces from laughing so much. 

Eros, no longer able to contain himself, rushed over to the first and second boys, grabbed them by the necks, picked them up, and shoved them hard against the brick wall by the front door of the school. Now the boys' faces were red, almost purple, from his squeezing of their necks. His black eyes looked hatefully into each boy's eyes alternately; the third boy backed off in fear.

Camilla, in a tight red dress, high heels, and heavy makeup, came quickly to the scene after getting out of her car. "Eros, let them go!" she shouted. "Let them go!"

"But Mom, they were insulting you!" he said, looking back at her. The boys tried punching him in the gut, but he used Nigrovum to make his gut feel as if it were made of brick; so the only pain felt was in the boys' fists.

"I don't care what they were saying about me, or you," she said, now standing behind Eros. "Nice boys don't fight. Let them go."

"But Mom, I was just--"

"Mommy likes nice boys, not bad ones."

"Oh, please don't call yourself that here at school. It embarrasses me."

"Let them go!" she shouted angrily. He did, and the two boys fell to the ground, coughing for breath. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go home." She, coming up only to Eros' shoulders in height, nonetheless took him by the hand as if he were a toddler, and they went to her car.

"Yeah, go with Mommy, Eros!" the third boy taunted.

"Just ignore them, sweetie," she said softly to her son.

"Go on, have at her!" the third boy shouted. "You know you want to, Oedipus!"

"It's not worth it, baby," she said to Eros, though it was getting harder for her to control her anger, since the memory of schoolboys taunting her as a child was never far from her mind.

"Hey, Ms. Fox!" the first boy, now having finally regained his breath, shouted. "You look so fine in that dress."

"Do a striptease for us sometime," the second boy, also no logger gasping for breath, shouted. "We're all eighteen years old. What do you say?"

"Nah!" shouted the third boy. "She's probably ugly under her clothes, with a smelly cunt, too!" The boys all laughed loudly.

Camilla, exploding with rage, used Nigrovum to visualize the last speaker suddenly having a huge aneurysm, which ruptured, in his brain. The young man staggered, then fell to the ground, instantly comatose. The other two boys knelt down to see what was wrong, then they looked back up at her: before she got in her car, she looked at both men with threatening eyes. You bad-mouth me, or Eros, again, she mentally communicated to them, and you're next.

By the time paramedics had arrived, about fifteen minutes later, to help the boy on the grass, he was dead.

****************

Two months later, Camilla had taken the bus downtown to go shopping alone. It was a hot August night in Montreal, and she was wearing only a gold-coloured dress and matching high heels; the dress came down half-way between her thighs and knees.

It was about 10 PM, and the stores were all closing. Walking along a relatively empty street, Camilla felt an urge to go down a dark alley. Going in, she thought neither about why she suddenly wanted to go that way, nor about how her black hair, black eyes, and pale skin were feeling the tingling sensation they always had when they changed back to her original blonde, blue eyes, and peach-coloured skin, a transformation she hadn't intended to make.

In the dark, she saw a side door with a light coming out the window. There was a small flight of steps leading down to the door, which led into a basement. She went down those steps, with little conscious awareness of what she was doing. As she opened the door, she felt her individual will completely disappear.

She walked in the room like an automaton, then closed the door. Before she could even react to the sight of six seated masked men in black tuxedos, she felt her dress being psychically torn off her body in one quick mental pull. Now completely naked before the six men, she stood with her mouth and eyes wide open in shock. She was psychically compelled to kick off her high heels and drop her purse on the floor. Never allowed to cover herself with her hands, she then was made to walk in the middle of the room, so all the men, seated in a circle, could get a good look at her body. Inwardly, she was terrified, but outwardly, she acted as though nothing was wrong, in perfect compliance to the men's wishes.

"Good evening, Camilla," said one of the men. "It's so good to see you again...all of you." The other men chuckled as they all ogled her tits, pubic hair, and ass.

"Get on the floor on all fours, so we can see your pussy and asshole," a second masked man said.

"Oh, OK," she said, as if high on drugs. She got on all fours, and three of the men came up to her. One got behind her, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock. Another stood before her mouth and took his hard cock out of his pants. The third man got on the floor and slid under her, then pulled down his pants and underwear.

The man behind her used Nigrovum to lubricate her anus and rectum, then he slid his cock inside. The man in front shoved his long, fat cock in her mouth quickly, forcing her to deep-throat him. The man under her psychically levitated his ass so he could get his cock in her pussy.

The other three men sat and watched the fucking. Her wet lips and tongue expertly slid and rolled up and down the shaft of the man in front of her, as though she were willingly sucking him off; but, of course, she was only blowing him by coercion. The same was true of her pussy and rectum as they hugged the cocks pumping in and out of her. The man under her played with her tits as he fucked her pussy. After a minute or so of fucking, Camilla came all over her pussy-fucker's cock, balls, and thighs. Then all six men took off their masks.

Out of the corner of her eye, Camilla was horrified to see the face of Dr. Lee, one of her professors during her first under-graduate year! Then she looked at the other two men watching, and she saw Dr. Lawson and Dr. Martin!

That can't be, she thought as she felt the cock of the man in front of her sliding in and out of her mouth. Those three teachers all died. I went to their funerals. They can't be masked men: the masked men are far more politically powerful than mere profs, aren't they?

She looked up at the man she was blowing, and saw the face of Dr. McVie, who looked down at her with a malicious smile. Terrified, she took his cock out of her mouth and jerked him off as she looked below and behind her: to her dismay, she saw the faces of Drs. Cage and Abruzzi, respectively. Helpless to resist, she then took 'McVie's' cock back in her mouth and resumed sucking.

"No, we aren't really your teachers," 'Lee' said before putting his mask back on and changing back to his original looks. "Like that young man you killed two months ago, they're all dead, their demises hastened by our psychic expanding of their own fears and anxieties."

"They will still blame their deaths on you, though, when you see them in hell," said 'Lawson' as he put his mask back on and changed back to his original form. "For they sense only your energy on them, the energy of your fears and growing despair, the energy from the come you spewed on them."

"We just made ourselves look like them to scare you," the third watcher said, now with his mask back on, too. "Because fear is what we want in your come, fear-energy for our rituals."

Though she was scared of these men, their cocks felt great in her pussy and asshole. They wanted her to enjoy the sex, because they needed her to come. Even the big cock in her mouth was mouth-wateringly tasty to her. She came a second time, drowning her pussy-fucker's groin. The man she was blowing came in her mouth: she gulped it all down, futilely hoping again to get his dominant energy to enter the Nigrovum in her blood. Her ass-fucker came in her ass; again, she gladly received it, hoping to gain his power. Those three men pulled their cocks out of her, got up, scooped her come off her cunt-fucker's thighs, and put it in jars. Then they put their cocks in their pants while the next three men got ready to fuck her.

These three men turned her over to lie on her back, with her legs raised up so they'd have access to her asshole as well as her pussy. Again, they pulled out their hard cocks and shoved them in her wet pussy, still-lubed ass, and salivating mouth. She screamed and squealed not from fear--though she desperately hoped someone outside the room would hear her--but from the pleasure of feeling these three men's cocks going in and out of her. Always, her bullies were great lovers. As they fucked her, her three previous fuckers talked to her.

"You see, fear is crucial to our maintaining our power over the world," said the man who'd fucked her mouth. "Fear of terrorism, fear of global warming, fear of the bad economy. When people are afraid, they'll follow any strong leader they can find. They'll let him do whatever he wants, as long as they're fooled into thinking he'll protect them. They won't ever notice how he's fucking them--the same way you'll be unaware of how we fucked you tonight, when we make you forget after letting you go." The other men laughed.

"All of the people who were your lovers, who died of fear and despair in the Nigrovum in their blood? We precipitated their deaths," said her former ass-fucker. "We made your old school chum Akemi carve your name on her chest; we drove her to despair by expanding the pain of her heart-ache after you rejected her."

You bastards, she thought. She wanted to bite the cock of the man she was blowing, but she had no control over her mouth...he did. Besides, part of her liked sucking his cock.

"Same with Bob, your first porno photographer," said the man who'd fucked her pussy. "We made him want to rape and kill that Vancouver girl, and put links to kiddie porn on your website. We psychically expanded the dark thoughts in his mind, made him act out his perverted fantasies, and drove him to despair and death in jail."

Fuck you, she thought, coming all over the groins of her pussy- and ass-fuckers. They kept on fucking her as her come spewed out; this confused and disoriented her, for she was terrified at what she was hearing, but thrilled with what her body was feeling. Her pussy was the wettest it had been to date, with a big cock filling her up completely and massaging all her vaginal walls, exciting her G-spot and A-spot. What made this fuck all the hotter was the fact that she hadn't been having any sex with Cameron, so this was her first fuck since Alain. The men kept shedding insights on her past.

"Whenever you were getting it on with your teachers--blowing Grisham in his classroom and Callahan almost catching you? Our Vancouver men psychically arranged that," continued her first pussy-fucker. "We've always wanted there to be an element of fear in your fucking, like when Callahan caught you in Mr. Pierce's office, and ate your pussy. You came on her face, giving her the fear-energy in your Nigrovum. It was the same with that repentant lecher Pierce, though he and his soon-to-be gay lover, your old friend Michael, turned things around for themselves and grew spiritual, like your dad, Don, and Ravinder."

"We tried to terrorize Pierce and Michael, but like your dad, they got too powerful, with strong psychic barriers," added Camilla's first ass-fucker. "Those two fags are actually trying to free a girl we're using in Seattle, a girl like you to pass Nigrovum on to male lovers there. Pierce and Michael have had some success liberating her. Ultimately, though, they'll fail, as will your dad, the former priest, and Dr. Singh." This speaker's voice sounded familiar to Camilla.

"Our Vancouver men helped arrange your gang-bang in the abandoned building, again, to arouse fear in you, and fear in your five teachers of being caught by the police," said the first man she'd blown. "Those punks finding you was also planned. Our Vancouver men wanted you, running naked on the streets of Vancouver at night, to be terrified. It didn't matter if the punks had raped you, or if Guy and Dirk had fucked you in their apartment--as long as your fear-energy had been passed on to other people; so they'd all be in the hellish realms of the other world, influencing the fears of the living in this world, for our political purposes."

She sprayed more come all over the groins of the men fucking her pussy and ass. She sucked the cock in front of her with increasing speed and vigour, not only out of a wish to end this gang-bang as quickly as possible, but because she was simply enjoying blowing a guy. This second trio of men all came in her mouth, pussy, and ass, and she again hoped to absorb their psychic power. The men scooped her come off themselves and off the floor, and put it in jars for future rituals. After pulling their pants up, they did another visualization, exchanging the fear-energy she'd come on them with the dominant energy they'd come in her. Psychically blocked again, she was completely helpless to stop them. Her hopes to gain their power were again frustrated.

"When the Vancouver punks fought Williams, Burgess, and your other gang-banger teachers, the punches they exchanged passed their blood on to each other in their cuts and bruises," that familiar voice said, from the man who'd fucked her ass. "Their getting of each other's blood on them spread the fear-energy in the teachers' newly-gotten Nigrovum on to those punks. I wish I could have thrown punches at that faggot Michael who hit me; I wish I could've gotten my revenge on them as I'm getting on you, but his and Pierre's force field was too strong for me to get past." The speaker took off his mask: it was Jim again! "Remember me, bitch? Mr. Anonymous! And I'll be safely anonymous again, when you leave here, forgetting us all, and what happened tonight!" He put his mask back on.

She was allowed to put her high heels back on, and to get her purse; then they used their psychic power to make her walk back outside, still nude.

Made to forget completely what had happened, and still moving without any control over herself, nude Camilla helplessly walked back onto the street, unable to use her hands to cover herself. It was now about midnight, and there were still some people walking about and driving in cars. Her heart was pounding with fear.

What happened to my dress? she thought. Why am I naked all of a sudden? It must be the masked men's doing again; they've made me forget what they just did to me. Automatically, as when she'd come out of the swimming pool naked two years before, Camilla put up an emotionally numbing psychic dome around herself, to nullify her trauma. Putting up this dome had become a habit whenever the masked men terrorized her, so she could continue to function in her day-to-day life. The masked men also wanted her to do this, so she would never despair and destroy herself as Candice, Don, and Agape had done, ultimately to come out the hellish tail of the ouroboros, and be spiritually liberated in the heaven of the serpent's head. The masked men wanted her to hover in a hellish state forever, full of an ever-renewing hope that was always being frustrated.

She continued walking along the street, as if thinking she had clothes on, for her body language falsely showed no signs of embarrassment; so complete was the masked men's continuing psychic control over her. Her hands just hung at her sides, never covering her tits, pubic hair, or ass.

Suddenly, a chubby man in a car drove by and stopped to check out this fascinating sight. He was in his forties and balding; he saw her face and instantly recognized her. He rolled down his car window and put his head out.

"Camilla? he asked. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," she said, still as if on dope. Nonetheless, her photographic memory made it possible for her to recognize him quickly, in spite of her psychically-imposed stupor. "David Pollock? You live here now?"




Camilla Ch. 103



"Yes, I do," he said, opening the front passenger door for her. "Get in." She got in his car, despite not wanting to, for the masked men were making her get in. He began driving back to his home.

"We met in Vancouver," she said in a monotone voice, "then you saw me in Toronto, now here in Montreal. What a coincidence." They stopped at a red light.

"A really lucky coincidence for me," he said, ogling her body and touching her pubic hair. Always under the control of the masked men, she was powerless to resist David's groping. "I'm always seeing you undressed. First when we worked in that McDonald's back in Vancouver, I went into the ladies room to clean it one day, and you were changing into your uniform, remember? What pretty, flowery pink underwear you were wearing. Mm-mm. You didn't seem to mind my seeing you. How old were you then?"

"Just turned eighteen, or thereabouts, I think." The light turned green, and he started driving again. She was dreading having to let him fuck her, but the masked men wouldn't let her go free.

"That's right. I remember begging and begging you to go out with me, but you wouldn't. Then you quit the McDonald's, and I never saw you again till we were in Toronto. Then I saw you crawling around naked, your pussy and asshole showing, on the stage of a strip joint--what was it called?"

"Club Ritz."

"Yeah, that's the one. 'It's a dream come true,' you said when you were giving me my first lap dance there. Oh, what fun I had feeling you up, seeing and fingering your pink pussy and brown butt-hole, and squeezing your tits and ass. Yum, yum. I'd open your butt-cheeks out wide, and see those pretty brown lips, wanting to put my cock in there so badly."

"Your hands were a little rough," she said, worrying about having to put up with them on her body again later.

"Yeah, that's why you still wouldn't go out with me after I begged and begged, after I'd paid for all those lap-dances," he said with a slight tone of bitterness as he pulled into the driveway of his house. "And now I've gotcha all nice and naked again." They got out of the car and started toward his front door. "You seem all doped up, so I'm taking advantage of this, naturally." He opened the door, and they went into his house.

He took her up to his bedroom after they took off their shoes by the door, and she was psychically made to get on his bed on all fours, showing off her asshole and pussy. As he began to take off all his clothes, he ogled her body.

"Wow, you still look great naked after all these years," he said, pulling down his pants and underwear. "You must be in your thirties by now, and yet you have the body of a girl in her early twenties, I'd swear it. Amazing." He took off his shirt and socks. "Look at that pretty pussy and that asshole; they look just like they did when I saw you onstage at Club Ritz. Oh, I'm gonna have fun tonight. And finally, you're not saying no."

She wished she could say no, but the masked men wanted her fear-energy passed on to David. He got on the bed behind her, unable to decide at first which hole he wanted to put his tongue into. Then he chose her pussy, and slid his tongue inside.

He grunted when he got it in as far as he could get it. He flickered his tongue around her G-spot, and she automatically got excited, even though she didn't like him. She started moaning softly. If only his hands were as sensitive as his tongue, she thought.

Then he took his tongue out and started licking her asshole. His finger went inside her cunt, poking away without any thought as to whether she'd like it or not. Even though she didn't like his prodding, the masked men were psychically controlling her reaction, and her pussy got wetter and wetter. His tongue flickered and tickled all over the wrinkles of her asshole. "I've fantasized about...tasting this...for so long," he grunted.

Then he got up and pointed his cock at her pussy. He slid it in all the way and started ramming. Again, her soaking wet hole belied how much she just wished the night would end.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned as he continued aggressively ramming away inside her. "It's a...dream come...true. Unh!" He reached forward and grabbed her breasts. He was squeezing them hard, and it hurt her, but she was still psychically made powerless to do anything about it. "Oh, they feel...so nice. Ah!"

After another minute or so of fucking her pussy, she came, and he pulled his soaking wet cock out and aimed it at her asshole. At first he was annoyed that he didn't have anything to lubricate her with, but just then he saw her asshole getting wet.

"What is that? Magic?" he asked. "How did you do that?"

Knowing the lubricating of her anus and rectum had to be the masked men's doing, she said, "I'm not doing it."

"Well, it's a miracle as far as I'm concerned," he said, pushing the tip of his cock against her anal orifice. "It's a...dream come...true. Ooh!" He shoved his cock in a few inches.

As she felt his cock go in deeper and deeper, she could only remember how David used to be thinner and better looking. Indeed, the only reason she didn't go out with him before was that he was so aggressively lecherous. If he'd been more of a gentleman, and more considerate, she would have made his dreams come true much sooner, and much more often.

His cock got all the way in, and he started thrusting aggressively again, with no thought as to how he was making her feel. After a few minutes of ass-fucking, he was about to come. Wanting to see what his come would look like on her face, he pulled his cock out.

"OK, baby," he moaned. "Turn around quickly. I wanna fuck your mouth." Helplessly passive, she did as she was told. She had her mouth open for his cock, but before she could take it in, he showered her whole face with his jizz. This was one of those few times when she didn't like getting gooey-faced. "Well, I guess that's it. OK, honey, move your gorgeous ass over so I can go to sleep."

She got up and went to the bathroom. As she washed his come off her face, he greedily licked as much of her come off the bedsheets as he could. He normally never liked doing that, but something outside of his consciousness was making him eat her come. When he'd eaten almost all of it, the masked men released him, and he lay on his side and went to sleep. She got in bed beside him and, exhausted, fell asleep soon after.

******************

The next morning, she woke up before David, and she was still not free of the masked men's power. She got out of David's bed carefully so as not to wake him, and went downstairs to get her purse and put on her high heels. She then was psychically compelled to walk out of his house still naked and unable to cover herself. It was about nine o'clock.

As she was walking down the neighbourhood, trying to ignore the staring of the neighbours, the two surviving young men, of the three grade twelve graduates who'd taunted her and Eros, briefly saw her from up in the bedroom of a two-storey house. The boys then rushed from the window to get their cell-phones so they could get video of her.

"Eros' mom," one of the boys said as he picked up his cell-phone on his bedside table. "So that's what she looks like naked."

"She's as hot as we'd hoped she'd be," the other boy said. "After we get the pics, this is going online ASAP."

******************

At home, 13-year-old Eros, wondering where his mother was, closed his eyes and concentrated: within seconds, he could sense that she was in trouble. He had a vision of her walking about naked in the neighbourhood where those high school graduates lived. He didn't want Cameron to know what he was sensing, since Cameron was equally worried about her. So he blocked Cameron's psychic access to knowing where she was and what she was doing. Eros didn't want his step-dad to drive them there either, because Eros wanted to rescue her himself (besides, it was difficult for him to squeeze his large body inside their car); he would then be her hero, and she would love him more for it. Standing by the front door of their house, he got one of Cameron's trench-coats from the nearby closet.

With his already prodigious ability with Nigrovum, he decided to use it not only to pinpoint her location, but actually to teleport himself there! He visualized himself disappearing and reappearing in that neighbourhood, just like Nightcrawler from the X-men movie he'd watched the night before. With his eyes closed, he concentrated, and in about ten seconds, his body disappeared in a puff of smoke.

In a split second, he suddenly reappeared in front of his mom with the trench-coat held open to wrap her nakedness in it. After resisting the temptation to look at her body (had he looked, this would have been his first time to see her naked, so careful had she been not to let him see her), he helped her put the coat on, then looked up at those two young men, who had now just come out on the balcony, ready to get video of nude Camilla. Unfortunately, they were too late.

"Aw, come on, Eros!" shouted the first boy. "We wanna see your hot mom's body!"

"I'll bet you got a good eyeful before putting that coat on her," said the other boy. "I knew it: you want to fuck her as bad as we do! Incest is best!" The boys laughed.

Eros scrunched up his face in rage; then he took control of the boys' minds. The boys were made to drop their cell-phones on the pavement below, smashing them to pieces.

"What the fu--," the first boy said. Then he and the other boy felt themselves compelled to get up on the balcony railing. "What the--"

Both boys dove off the balcony, head first. Their skulls cracked open on the pavement; they died instantly. Amid screams from the neighbours who saw the 'double suicide', Eros closed his eyes, concentrated, and he and Camilla disappeared; the neighbours were so shocked by the boys' deaths that they didn't notice the vanishing of Eros and Camilla at all.

*******************

They reappeared in the front hall of their home, and Camilla finally became free of the masked men's control.

"You didn't look at my body, did you, sweetie?" she said to Eros. "Nice boys don't do that."

"No, I didn't," he said, as embarrassed by his incestuous thoughts for her as Camilla was from sensing them.

"Good, and thank you for getting me," she said as Eros went upstairs to his room. She instantly set up a particularly strong psychic barrier, twice as strong as the one she'd set up the day after she fell into the swimming pool two years before. When am I going to have a barrier strong enough to keep those bastards out of my life for good? This is driving me insane, she thought.

Then she heard Cameron coming down the stairs. Immediately, she set up a psychic barrier so he wouldn't be able to feel David's lustful energy on her body.

"Where were you?" Cameron asked, suspecting the worst. "And why are you wearing my trench-coat? In that hot summer sun, you'd be boiling. I thought you were wearing that golden dress."

"I was," she said, taking off the coat and putting it in the closet. "It was the masked men again, I swear, Cameron. They won't stop terrorizing me."

"I see," he said, not at all believing her story, then turned around and walked into the bathroom.

"Really, it...was," she said, then lowered her gaze and went upstairs to her bedroom.

Just as with Alain, Eros had disintegrated Camilla's barrier so Cameron would know she'd been with David. Eros had visualized her barrier as 'transparent', making her think it was there between Cameron and David's energy, but Cameron nonetheless could 'see' that energy on her body. Eros just lay on his bed and smiled. Cameron should be gone within a year or so, he thought.

Cameron sat on the toilet and began crying. Just as my father used to say, he thought, I'm worthless and weak. She's seeing other men because I'm not good enough for her.

Eros was ever so subtly expanding the despair in Cameron's energy. Go to work, my poison, he thought.

Camilla lay in bed and started crying herself. I can't talk to Cameron anymore, she thought. I can't even look him in the eyes. I'm a terrible wife. I'm nowhere near good enough for him, but he thinks it's the other way around. I can't make him understand my addiction to sex. I can't make him believe me that the masked men are out to get me. What am I going to do?

Not knowing what else she could do to ease her pain, she strengthened the emotionally numbing psychic dome around herself, got dressed, and tried to carry on with her day as best she could.



Camilla Ch. 104



A painful moment in the reliving of 37-year-old Camilla's memories had come; so painful was this memory, in fact, that it might have seemed better for her wake up. Indeed, her sleeping naked body getting gang-bangs from the spirits of all her angry former lovers in the public aquarium might have seemed like a rest. Nonetheless, she had to go through all the agonizing moments in these memories; for only now was she able to see clearly what had really been going on years before.

Four years before the aquarium incident, 14-year-old Eros was psychically blocking Camilla, then 33, from sensing Cameron's slowly increasing despair over her cheating. This was a despair the boy was subtly enlarging with Nigrovum. His step-father eventually grew deathly ill, and was unable to teach for a week before his sadness had weighed down on him so heavily, like huge rocks on his back, that he finally died in bed.

When Camilla found her husband's corpse under the blankets one November afternoon after coming home from McGill University, she knelt by the bedside and sobbed softly. When she started to feel those same 'rocks' on her back, she automatically set up her emotionally numbing psychic dome, as usual, to help her carry on.

During the funeral, which came a few days after Cameron's death, she looked down teary-eyed at her husband's body in the coffin; while Eros, smiling slightly, psychically blocked Camilla from knowing how happy he was with the success of his plan. The masked men, ever monitoring Camilla's every second, were also pleased.

37-year-old unconscious Camilla, now reliving these memories with the psychic blocks removed, felt tortured by what she now knew of her son's involvement in Cameron's death. Only her fear of dying, and of being forever gang-raped by the spirits of her vengeful former lovers in hell, kept her from psychically letting go of her life in this world. Besides, she still had to know everything that had been psychically kept from her; and reliving this mournful period of her life made the come she was gushing out into the water-tank neither that of lust, nor of fear.

This lull in the lust-energy in the Nigrovum in her come didn't trouble the masked men too much, for they knew she would soon relive a lustful, fearful memory.

No longer burdened with the responsibility of being faithful to a husband, Camilla returned to fucking without inhibition or restraint; besides, enjoying a number of her cute twenty-something university students--male and female--helped her forget the pain of losing Cameron. 'Fuck the pain away,' as Candice had used to say, back in her heavy junkie days. The masked men obviously were delighted with Camilla's resurgent promiscuity, for she was once again spreading around lots of lust- and fear-infected Nigrovum, making her many new lovers slaves to the masked men. Also, her indulgence in sex, nullifying any interest in spirituality, made her more of a slave to them, too.

One afternoon the following April, she was lecturing before her students in McGill University, and had mentioned a passage from Balzac's Pere Goriot. Her hair, eyes, and skin were their original blonde, blue, and peach colours, respectively.

"'Civilization,'" she quoted in the original French, "'like the car of Juggernaut, is scarcely stayed perceptibly in its progress by a heart less easy to break than the others that lie in its course; this also is broken, and Civilization continues on her course triumphant.' 'Juggernaut' refers to 'Jagannath', a Hindu god whose idol is pulled on a chariot during a religious festival. According to The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, Hindus would throw themselves under the wheels of the chariot, allowing themselves to be crushed to death in an act of religious sacrifice. Some say the deaths were mere accidents: the crowds who enthusiastically watched the idol passing by on the streets would push and shove, and people would fall on the road. It makes no difference to me how they died, for it is the power of idolatry to make us gaze in stupefied awe at a god or goddess raised up high, and we are destroyed by it will or nill."

As she continued lecturing, she felt what seemed like a finger going up her cunt, tickling her G-spot. She started sighing heavily with a wide-open mouth; she looked in the faces of her students with embarrassment. That invisible finger kept slipping in and out, gently stroking her G-spot just the way she liked it. Though this obvious psychic intrusion by the masked men was most unwelcome, she couldn't help enjoying the masturbation she was receiving. Her hips and ass moved up and down rhythmically to the fingering. She'd paused mid-lecture for about five seconds or so.

"Ms. Fox?" asked a female student in the first row. "Are you OK?"

"Uh, yeah," she sighed, trying to make those sighs as inaudible as she could. "Sorry. The path...to salvation...doesn't have...to be...attained only...through asceticism. Siva is...an erotic ascetic, renouncing pleasure...as well as...indulging in it. The Carpocratians, who were...libertines, also indulged, because they believed...the imprisoned eternal soul...must pass through...every possible condition...of earthly life. Oh!" Moisture from her cunt was staining her panties.

Her students were looking more and more askance at her. Two of them, young men in suits, were smiling lewdly, enjoying watching The Fox getting horny right in front of their eyes.

"To get to...the heavenly head...of the ouroboros, you can go...the Right hand Path, up the body...of the serpent...to the head, or you can go...the Left hand Path, down to the bitten tail, and through the hell...of that tail...to the head," she continued, panting. "There are...two ways to heaven: the way of...the Church, sweet and innocent...and peaceful, or the way...of Jagannath, of willing self-destruction. There's the ascetic way, or the erotic." Now she felt an invisible finger rubbing against her asshole, and gently slipping inside. An invisible tongue was then licking her hard clit. She knew she couldn't go on with her lecture. "Excuse me."

Suddenly, she ran out of the classroom and found a nearby washroom. She pulled down her pants and underwear, and sat on the toilet. Those invisible fingers kept on sliding in and out of her pussy and asshole, reaching deeper and deeper inside. The invisible tongue kept on licking and licking, and invisible lips were sucking on her hard clitoris, then tightly hugging her swollen labia. Now she was free to enjoy it in private...or so she thought.

The psychic finger in her pussy was gently jabbing at her A-spot, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. The finger deep in her rectum was stroking the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall, giving her even more pleasure. Those lips and tongue were frantically sucking on and licking her clitoris. Her sighs grew louder and higher pitched, then she squealed and sprayed the toilet bowl and water with her come.

She was so involved with her pleasure that she paid no psychic attention to whoever could have been listening on the other side of the door; in fact, she'd even forgot to lock it upon entering! Those two boys from her class, both about twenty years old, had been listening to her moans and squeals just outside the washroom almost immediately after she'd gone in. No longer able to resist the temptation, one of them suddenly opened the door, and they both barged in just as she was pulling up her pants.

"Dr. Fox," said one of the men. "You stepped out of our class to masturbate?"

Instead of saying what she wanted to, to tell the boys to leave and mind their own business, she was compelled to say, "Yeah." She did up her pants.

"You're even hotter than we thought," said the second boy. "Come with us; we'll help you get off even more."

They took her by the arms and led her out of the washroom and into an empty classroom. They locked the door. She was psychically compelled to comply the whole time. The second young man watched the door, making sure they wouldn't be disturbed; he was quite surprised their classmates didn't come out and see what their teacher was doing.

"OK," said the first boy, who got out his cell-phone and set it to camera. "Strip for us: I've gotta see what you look like naked."

Compelled to obey, and temporarily disoriented as to who was controlling her, Camilla started unbuttoning her black blouse, revealing a pink lace brassiere. She pulled off the blouse and lay it on one of the desks.

"Alright," the second boy said, also getting his cell-phone out and setting it to the camera function.

She bent down, dreading the whole idea of being naked before these young men, who, though handsome, weren't of any sexual interest to her. She unzipped her beige dress pants and pulled them down, revealing her pink panties.

"Amazing," said the first boy, already taking pictures of her, as was the second. "No flab. She's in her thirties, but looks no older than about 23."

"Yeah," said the second boy. "Please get out of that underwear fast. I gotta see those tits. I hope they don't sag."

Though with a frown of embarrassment and fear on her face, she was nonetheless psychically forced to keep undressing. After her pants and high heels came off, she straightened up and undid her bra. She wiggled her breasts most reluctantly as the bra came off.

"Woo!" shouted the first boy, who then covered his mouth, worried that he was heard. (He needn't have worried: the masked men had put a force field around the classroom, allowing no one to hear anything inside or come near it. Their classmates were psychically forced to sit in their seats in Camilla's classroom, as though nothing strange had happened.)

Finally, Camilla pulled down her panties, revealing her pubic hair and ass. She pulled her feet through the panties' leg-holes, then straightened up. The boys stared in awe at her naked body; she could only allow them to stare and take pictures.

"OK," said the first young man. "Now get on the floor and spread your legs. I gotta see that pussy."

"OK," she said, sitting on the floor and spreading. As both boys looked down at her pink pussy and took pictures of it, all she could do was frown her feelings of humiliation. I'm a university professor, she thought. I'm not a stripper anymore. I'm not just a piece of cheesecake anymore; I'm an intelligent, learned woman! I deserve better than this. I should be treated with respect. This shouldn't be happening to me. Those damned masked men! I hope they rot in hell!

"So this is what The Fox looks like in the raw," said the second boy. "You are even hotter than I'd imagined you could be."

"I thought she'd just be a MILF," said the first boy. "She has the body of a Penthouse Pet! You should be in porn, Dr. Fox. Seriously!"

"OK, now get up, turn around, and bend over so we can see your asshole," said the second boy. She got up and turned around as asked. "Yeah, spread your legs out wide, then bend over." She did. "I can't believe this is happening," he said to the first boy. "What's making her so cooperative? She must be a mega-nympho!" Then he looked at her brown, wrinkly asshole. "Whoa! Dr. Fox, that thing's way too pretty for pooping." The boys took more pictures. She just looked back at them upside-down from between her legs with a frown.

The boys got closer and squatted down to get a better look. They took some close-up shots of her pussy and asshole.

"Do you think we should fuck her?" the first boy asked. "Opportunity of a lifetime."

"We've been tempting fate a little too much already," said the second boy, always unaware that the masked men, psychically monitoring the situation from the other side of town, had made everything perfectly safe for fucking.

"Well, we've got to do something," the first boy said. "Let's eat her out."

"OK," said the second boy. "Dr. Fox, get down on the floor on all fours, keeping your pussy and asshole visible. We wanna have a taste."

She got on the floor as commanded. All she could do was wait and pray for this ordeal to be over with as soon as possible.

"OK, who goes first?" the second boy asked. "Let's do paper, scissors, stone." They did, and the first boy won. He knelt behind Camilla's ass, and put his lips up to her cunt. His nose rested against her immaculately clean asshole as he licked and sucked on her labia.

The second boy sat beside her and fondled her tits. He grabbed and squeezed very aggressively, hurting her, though there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She just frowned and winced.

The first man slid his finger in her pussy and began licking her asshole. As his finger went in and out of her cunt, he felt what seemed to be an outside force guiding him to stroke her the right way. Indeed, his finger, after a few seconds of clumsy poking, was now gently massaging her G-spot, just as the invisible hand had been doing before. Her pussy started getting wet again.

"What the fuck?" he asked as he kept fingering her without his own will.

The second boy started feeling her breasts with more sensitivity, too, gently caressing them and lightly pinching the nipples; again, none of this was his mind controlling his hands. "What?" he asked. "Why are my hands groping in a way I don't mean them to?"

"It's weird," said the first boy. "But at least we're still enjoying her." He kept licking her asshole and fingering her wet cunt. Then he brought his head down to lick her rock-hard clitoris.

She began sighing with pleasure. At least the masked men know how to get me off, she thought. "Oh!" She was approaching orgasm.

"OK," said the first boy. "You wanna go at her? She's really wet. I've been satisfying my thirst big time here."

"OK," said the second boy. They switched positions. He slid his finger inside her asshole and picked up the pussy-licking where the first boy had left off. The first boy was now softly kissing Camilla on the lips while caressing her tits.

"Mmm, oh," she softly moaned as they kept stimulating her. Though she was getting turned on, she still felt publicly shamed, like Eve after the Fall. Indeed, she would have done anything for some strategically placed fig leaves.

The second man pulled his finger out of her agape asshole and tried to slip his tongue inside. His other hand gently pushed inside her soaking-wet pussy, giving her as painless a fisting as he could. By the time he'd got half of his hand inside, with all his fingers and thumb in there, she came. His hand and the floor under her were covered in her cooze.

"Holy shit!" said the first boy. "She's a gusher. Let's eat it up."

"Yeah, definitely," said the second boy, licking the come off his hand. Not caring at all about germs, the first boy got down on the floor and began lapping.

When the first boy's hand was as clean of come as he could get it, he stuffed his face between her buttocks and licked the remaining jizz off her pussy. She softly moaned, trying not to come a second time. She just wanted this all to end, so she could get dressed and back to class.

The first boy lapped up as much of her come off the floor as he was willing to drink, then he got up and looked out the window. Though he was relieved not to see anyone looking in at what they were doing, he nonetheless didn't want to press their luck. "Hey, maybe we should go."

"Yeah," said the second boy. "We've had our fill." They got up, took a few more pictures, and left the classroom. As they were walking back to Camilla's classroom, they could hear voices in their heads saying, 'Vote for the Green Party, always.'

Finally, Camilla was released from her psychic bond. She immediately reached for her clothes and put them back on as fast as she could, hoping no one would come in and see her still in a state of undress. As soon as she was completely dressed, she began to use her own psychic powers. She visualized the boys' phones having all their photos erased. Within a few seconds, her nudie pictures were lost forever. Then she visualized the boys forgetting all that had happened from the point she'd begun to get horny in class to the present moment. She also psychically erased her other students' memory of her getting hot in front of them.

When she was assured that the whole embarrassing episode had been forgotten, she strengthened her emotionally numbing psychic dome, so she could go back into class and face those students without shuddering. Finally, she visualized the strongest psychic barrier she could possibly muster, indeed, the strongest she'd mustered to date; she hoped it would keep the masked men out of her mind and out of her life for as long as possible, maybe even forever, if she was lucky.

After that, she took a few seconds to pull herself together, and went back to class.

There was still another half hour before her lecture was to end, and when she walked back into class and stood before her students, she was relieved to see them looking at her as though nothing had happened.

"Sorry for stepping out just now," she said. "Something came up. Now, to resume..."



Camilla Ch. 105



Unconscious Camilla was now reliving a memory that had occurred three years before the aquarium incident, so she was thinking back to when she was thirty-four and lecturing in McGill University in late October.

She was discussing two passages in Moby-Dick. "'In Chapter 35, 'The Mast-Head', Herman Melville writes of how we can be lulled into an opium-like, listless, and unconscious reverie, and in the blending cadence of waves of our absent-minded thoughts, we lose our identity," Dr. Camilla Mennon-Fox paraphrased. "A person may take 'the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of the deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature.' Here, Melville is comparing the seeming infinity of the ocean surrounding a sailor's ship to the pantheistic notion of an infinite spirit permeating everything."

As she was speaking, several of her male students, all in their early twenties, were too busy staring at her open shirt and exposed, braless cleavage to think much about what she had to say.

"Remember that Moby-Dick was, in part, Herman Melville's critique of the pantheistic philosophy of Ralph Waldo Emerson, whose essay 'The Over-soul' was clearly influenced by the Hindu concept of Brahman," she continued. "Now, most pantheists tend to think of divine nature as peaceful and beautiful; they daydream this way when they take a pleasant walk in the park or in the woods. Melville's nature, however, is in the stormy seas on a boat; and there, nature is terrifying and cruel. If that's God, He's much scarier than He sounds in the Bible."

Still, the young men--as well as one lesbian--just stared at her tits, wondering what they looked like in their entirety. Though Camilla the widow was normally happy, and now free, to fuck her students, none of these ones--hardly any younger than she looked--were of any interest to her, and she was more than a little annoyed at how they weren't listening.

"Here's another quote," she said. "'But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch; slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror.' You see, the pantheist believes that the absorption of his identity, atman, into God or Brahman, is blissful. But it isn't: fall into that infinite ocean of Brahman, and it's terrifying, for your individual self stays with you always. Entry into the All, or Over-soul, isn't heaven; it's hell, and when you're down in hell, you stay there, never to rise again. Melville tells the pantheists to heed this warning."

Her students looked at her a little strangely, not understanding why she was criticizing pantheism so emotionally, and with such visible fear. She sensed their reaction, felt a little embarrassed, then continued.

"Let's look at another passage," she said, flipping the pages of her book. "In Chapter 50, 'Ahab's Boat and Crew. Fedallah,' Melville makes some interesting comments about the Parsi Fedallah, a fire-worshipper who has an evil influence on Ahab, making many prophecies about the hunt for Moby Dick. Fedallah seems a devil in human guise, with his other-worldly knowledge. As Melville says, 'according to Genesis, the angels indeed consorted with the daughters of men, the devils also...indulged in mundane amours.'"

One young man leaned over to whisper in the ear of his male friend, "This horny devil would sure like to indulge in mundane amours with her--Dr. Foxy." They both snickered.

Finding it harder and harder to control her annoyance with the disrespectful attitude she psychically sensed from them, Camilla continued. "The angels Melville was referring to are called 'The Sons of God' in Genesis chapter six. They came down from heaven and had sex with the women of the world, just like Zeus and all the virgins he ravished. The children that resulted from these unions were the Nephilim of the Bible: giants, men of renown, or the heroes of Greek myth. Such an unholy union of the divine and human worlds, however, is dangerous: it led to sinful excesses, and God destroyed the world with the Flood. Such is the bad influence of semi-divine people like Fedallah over madmen like Captain Ahab. Then again, maybe Fedallah's father was a devil, as Melville seemed to be suggesting in my last quote."

"This horny devil would like to father her kids," that impertinent young man whispered in his friend's ear.

"This teacher would like you to pay attention!" she snapped at him suddenly. Everyone looked at her in shock. She took a deep breath, and continued. "Anyway, so Melville is saying that those who imagine they're one with the gods, be it from a spiritual or a sexual union, they're really at one with devils, who are constantly screwing with our minds and bodies--"

This last reference to devils was a cue for the masked men, who suddenly used their psychic powers to release the spirits of Marcel, Carl, Ms. Callahan, Alex, and Cameron.

The invisible hands of these spirits grabbed Camilla and started undressing her right in front of all of her students. Marcel undid the buttons of her black dress shirt, to the delight of the male students and lesbian. Her shirt was pulled off quickly, with a wiggle of Camilla's tits and an agape look of terror in her eyes and mouth.

The young men all cheered. "Whoa!" one of them shouted. "Dr. Foxy is so saucy!"

Carl unzipped and pulled down her beige slacks, revealing pink lace panties. The lecherous students licked their lips and got out their cell-phones, setting them either to video or to camera for still photos.

"Oh, what beautiful undies!" another of the young men shouted.

The women students, all except the lesbian, tried to stand and go up to Camilla to help her get dressed, or at least to cover her: they were psychically forced to stay put in their seats and say nothing.

The invisible hands of Callahan's spirit removed Camilla's high heels, and got her feet out of the leg-holes of her pants. Alex pulled down her panties, revealing her 'Goth' black pubic hair. Those four spirits then made Camilla lie on the floor with her legs spread open wide and raised up, so everyone could see her dark purple pussy and black asshole. The spirit of Cameron just stood by and enjoyed his Candaulism.

The lecherous students, always getting pics and video of their naked prof, just looked in amazement at her body. She was 34, but--inexplicably to them--she looked ten years younger. Her smooth, pale 'Goth' skin and black hair fascinated them, as did the terror in her wide-open, black eyes.

The spirit of Marcel got behind her and slid his invisible cock in her asshole. Her mouth was as wide open as her asshole was, and she wished she wasn't enjoying it. Carl plunged his cock in her pussy, while Alex fed his ghost-cock into her mouth. Ms. Callahan's ghost sucked on one nipple while pinching the other; soon, both mouth and fingers would trade places.

Camilla's students stared in amazement at this bizarre spectacle: it was so shocking, and yet so titillating, to have their professor's exposed asshole and pussy widening before their very eyes.

What is happening? one woman student wondered. Are a bunch of ghosts gang-raping her? I don't even believe in ghosts. Anyway, I wish I could help her. This must be so humiliating.

One young man watched her wide-open mouth, with its bulge going in and out of her cheek. He thought, It's like the poking tongue of someone jokingly miming fellatio. But this must be real: is it a ghost's cock? Anyway, Camilla's tongue was flickering away, and her wet lips slid up and down the invisible phallus.

The lesbian was fingering herself as she saw what seemed to be saliva on one of Camilla's black nipples; then there was saliva on the other. Something's sucking her tits, the lesbian thought; But what?

The young men continued with their getting video and picture-taking. Some tried to get up close to feel her up, but they felt a psychic barrier stopping them. They could look, but not touch.

"This is so going online!" one man yelled. "Yeah!"

Camilla squealed and squealed as she felt all those invisible cocks pumping in and out of her holes, faster and faster. Though this whole situation was a nightmare for her, it was a thrilling nightmare, for her pussy was dripping wet. Soon, she came in several gushing arcs on the floor, inspiring more cheers from the young men. Then the spirits, with Cameron's help, turned her over so she was on all fours, with her legs spread and her ass pointed out so both holes were staring at her students, like the eyes of a tilted head. The ghosts resumed their gang-banging.

Now Callahan's invisible pussy was in Camilla's face, and Camilla was psychically forced to lick and suck on the labia and clitoris. Carl's invisible cock slid inside her asshole, while Alex shoved his cock aggressively inside her pussy. She felt no pain from his ramming, for she was as wet as could be without orgasming again. Marcel squeezed her breasts around his invisible cock; Cameron just watched contentedly, as usual.

At least now, with her ass pointing out at her students, and facing the blackboard, Camilla didn't have to see the eyes of the people before whom she was being degraded. The one good thing she could always rely on from the masked men, or from the incubi and succubi who attacked her--once in her sleep, now in the daytime--was a good fuck. Since the spirits' and masked men's collective psychic powers dwarfed her own abilities, there was nothing she could do to stop the gang-bang from reaching its conclusion; but she figured she'd might as well at least enjoy the sex.

Those cocks rammed in and out of her pussy and ass faster and faster, as was Marcel's accelerating cock wrapped between her tits. Camilla slid her tongue inside Callahan's invisible vagina, reaching for her G-spot and tickling it as frantically as she could, in the hopes of getting the bitch's ghost off as quickly as possible.

After several more minutes of intense fucking, Camilla came again, splashing all over the floor between her legs. The men cheered one more time. The spirits disappeared as abruptly as they'd arrived.

"That was in-fucking-credible!" one of the young men shouted.

"The Fox is a better sex slut than I could ever--" another young man began, before being jerked up from his seat.

Suddenly, all the students were psychically compelled to get up, go over to where Camilla was, and get down on the floor on all fours.

"What the fuck--?" said the lesbian as her head was psychically forced to move closer to Camilla's pussy. She soon stopped worrying and just enjoyed what she was being forced to do: lap her professor's pussy clean of all its come.

The other students were compelled to bend down and lap up all of Camilla's come off the floor. They all just kept on lapping and lapping, until all of the come was drunk up, replaced by everyone's saliva.

As all the licking and lapping went on, everyone in the room except Camilla could hear voices chanting these words, over and over again: Support the Green Party, always. Camilla still couldn't move a millimetre; she couldn't even cry.

Finally, when all the come was lapped up, the students were made to get up and return to their seats. Naked Camilla was then freed. Immediately, she began using her own psychic powers. She visualized those screaming, tiny stars in her students' ears, the ones she'd used to subdue Mrs. Holland many years before. Everyone except Camilla covered his ears in agonizing pain, and wondered when all the witchcraft would end.

Then, a few seconds later, Camilla used Nigrovum to freeze everyone within earshot in a tableau. No one in the classroom could move or even perceive what was happening except Camilla. The same was true of anyone outside the room who was within earshot: the surrounding classrooms and hallways were full of people in suspended animation; and if anyone walked into that area, wondering why everyone had frozen in his tracks, those entering people would also be as motionless and as temporarily without perception as everyone already in it.

Now Camilla was safe to express herself. "Why?!" she screamed. "Why are you torturing me like this?! Who are you?! What do you want?! Why won't you leave me alone?! Just...leave me alone." She curled up on the floor in a fetal position and sobbed for several minutes. "I can't take this anymore," she wept softly. "I wanna die: forever sleep." She could feel those invisible boulders of despair weighing down on her, as they had done Cameron and Candice.

'To die, to sleep,' said a voice in her head. 'To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub.'

If you let yourself die, said another voice, you'll be in hell, an eternal nightmare, we assure you. Gang-bangs like this one for all eternity, with a large audience to watch you and have no sympathy for you. You don't want that, now, do you? At least here, it's only temporary, and you can make all your students forget what happened and erase what's on their cell-phone cameras. Come, come, Camilla: pull yourself together, get dressed, and carry on as usual, as you always do.

Realizing that the masked men were right, Camilla psychically imagined those boulders of despair slowly disappearing, one by one. After the last one was gone, she got up and put her clothes back on. She got a Kleenex from her pocket, blew her nose, and dried her tears. Then she visualized everyone in the classroom forgetting everything that had happened just after she'd said, "...devils, who are screwing with our minds and bodies." She also visualized all the cell-phone pics and video of her nakedness disappearing forever.

She took several deep breaths and pulled herself together, visualizing that emotionally numbing psychic dome she always used to remove her feelings of trauma. Next, she surrounded herself with a psychic barrier that she hoped would be even stronger than the one she'd made after her incident a year before, when invisible fingers had masturbated her to orgasm, and she was forced to strip naked for two of her male students. She hoped, in spite of what seemed utter futility, that this barrier would be strong enough to keep the masked men out of her life for much more than a mere year.

Finally, she unfroze everyone, and resumed her lecture. As the students listened to her, they couldn't understand why they had the taste of someone's come in their mouths.

Whatever their political opinions had been before that day, though, they now all feared Muslim terrorism so much, they'd support the Green Party's ongoing wars with the Arab world for 'as long as it would take'.

**************

That night, Camilla was at home, and she went up to see her son in his bedroom. The large boy, now fifteen, had just finished painting a picture of his mother, and was signing it 'Eros Neville M'.

She knocked on his door. "Sweetie?" she asked. "May I come in?"

"Sure, Mom," he said, opening the door for her. "Actually, I want you to see a new picture I painted."

"Oh?" she asked as she walked in his room. "And is your homework done?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "It was easy, as always."

She walked over to see his painting. "That's my genius boy; always the academic star--" She gasped at the sight of the picture he'd painted. Her photographic memory ensured she'd have no doubt about what she recognized.

Eros' painting looked exactly, stroke for stroke, like the first painting Carl had done of her back in Vancouver, when she was eighteen! All of it was anatomically accurate, the only changes being that of her blonde hair, blue eyes, peach skin, et cetera, now changed to the 'Goth' look Nigrovum had given her. Even her fingernails and toenails were pitch black.

"What do you think?" he said with a proud grin, too intoxicated by her beauty to scan her feelings and sense her shock.

"It's...really good," she stammered. Now he could feel her negative reaction, and was frowning. "A little too good, actually. Sweetie, nice boys don't paint pictures like this of their mommies."

"Well, I, I thought you'd like it," the sensitive boy said, holding back his sobs.

"I know you worked hard at it, baby; but we can't show it to the public. It's indecent. Please cover it and hide it." She left the room, still blushing.

"Sorry," he said, softly crying.

She went into her bedroom and sat on her bed. Well, he does have Carl's energy in him, she thought. I wanted him to have Carl's talent and genius when I used Nigrovum to create Eros in my womb. When he was born, he was perfect...a little too perfect. I guess my one oversight was--apart from making him too big--in using the energy of all my favourite lovers to create Eros. I forgot that their energy was all of lust for me. I'll have to watch my boy more carefully, psychically blocking him more and more, to make sure he never acts on his desires.



Camilla Ch. 106



Unconscious Camilla was in the middle of reliving a memory from two years before the aquarium incident. She was thirty-five at the time, and doing a lecture on The Taming of the Shrew for her students in a classroom in McGill University.

"Female audiences don't need to be offended by Kate's speech, advocating wives' subservience to their husbands, at the end of the play," Camilla said. "For none of the story of Kate and Petruchio matters. Remember that it is a play within a play, a farce put on to entertain Christopher Sly, the real shrew who needs to be tamed at the beginning, in the Induction."

A number of Camilla's female students, who had feminist sympathies, weren't convinced.

Camilla continued: "The Induction, as short and brief as it is, is the real play, not the farce that comes after, even though the Kate and Petruchio story takes up most of the time of the whole thing. Nobody would say that the brief 'Pyramis and Thisby' play within A Midsummer Night's Dream is the real story there; nor would anyone say the brief play staged before King Claudius, 'The Murder of Gonzago', is the main story in Hamlet. The length or brevity of a play-within-a-play does not determine whether it's the real story or not. The play-within-a-play is always a theatrical illusion, a non-reality Shakespeare was particularly sensitive to as a playwright. The play-within-a-play is never real, so ultimately, it doesn't matter what happens in it."

One of the young women put up her hand. "If the story of Kate doesn't matter, why make it the vast majority of the play's length?" she asked.

"To trick the audience, that's why," Camilla answered. "This whole play is about deception and denial of reality. Christopher Sly, a common drunk, is found asleep on a chair in a tavern. He is taken upstairs to a bedroom, had his modest attire switched with that of a wealthy man, and when he wakes up in bed, everyone tells him he's woken up from a coma, a coma he'd been in for years. They trick him into thinking that he's a lord, and that his memory of his whole life as a common oaf was just a dream."

"Yeah, I know that," the female student said. "But what does that have to do with not worrying about the misogynist speech at the end of the play?"

"Everything in this play is a deception, and a denial of reality," Camilla went on. "Lucentio tricks Bianca's father, Baptista, into thinking Lucentio's a Latin teacher, instead of a suitor for Bianca. Petruchio denies Kate's perception of everything, that well-cooked food is badly cooked, that the time of day isn't what it is, that the sun is the moon, and that Lucentio's father--an old man--is a pretty young woman. If all of that is deception, all illusion, then so is the idea of woman's subservience to man in Kate's ending speech. Sly is tricked into thinking he's a lord, a master, when really, he's nothing; the same is true for husbands. However they may thump their chests in public, when their wives get them home, the men shut up. Shakespeare, with his deep understanding of human nature, knew this reality of the sexes, and he shows it here, if indirectly."

"I think I understand now," the girl said.

"Dream and reality: which is which?" Camilla asked, looking up at the ceiling. "Sly must have been asking himself that question as he watched the Kate and Petruchio farce, before falling asleep again. When do we see illusion, and when do we see the truth? So often, illusion and reality get switched around, as was the case with Sly, and with so many other characters in this play." Camilla now looked at her class with a rather far-away, almost trance-like look in her eyes. "When I was a little girl, about ten, I fell into a coma; I don't remember when I woke up from it, and that's strange, because normally I remember just about everything. I was certainly dreaming during the coma, a long coma...I'm not sure how long..." She gazed up at the ceiling again.

Her students were looking askance at her.

"Is she okay?" one male student asked his neighbour.

"I've heard other students of hers say she's been going nuts like this ever since her husband died," said another student.

**************

That night, Camilla was at home, and she went up to Eros' bedroom. The 16-year-old had finished his homework, and was looking at pictures on his computer. He sensed her coming, and used Nigrovum to alter the image of a woman that was on his monitor--changing her face in particular.

Camilla barged into his room, her psychic powers making her suspicious that he was up to no good.

"Sweetie," she said as she approached his computer. "What are you up to?"

"I'm just doing a report on Gustav Klimt," he lied, while psychically blocking her with the utmost subtlety, so she wouldn't suspect the lie. She looked at the monitor, which showed the painting Danae.

"I see," she said, and feeling her suspicion fade away, she left his room.

**************

Now that 37-year-old Camilla was reliving these memories, and in her expanded consciousness she could see what hadn't been revealed to her before, she realized Eros had been lying. The picture on his computer screen wasn't Klimt's Danae: it was a page from camillacome.com.

Camilla woke up in a shock, finding herself still hovering naked over the water tank in the public aquarium, and being gang-banged by the ghosts of her former lovers. Her large audience was still all there, gawking at her like TV-watching zombies, and getting video of her. The international media was still covering the event, and her come virtually never stopped gushing out of her pussy in an arc into the water below.

The ghost of Dr. Lawson was fucking her pussy; his large invisible cock was making her squeal and scream, more from instinctive pleasure than from fear. Alain's ghost was fucking her ass, his invisible cock gently massaging her anal walls and making her sigh. Desiree's ghost was sucking on her left nipple while Mercedes' invisible lips were sucking on Camilla's right nipple--both tits were pointing at attention. Joey's invisible cock was slipping in and out of Camilla's salivating mouth.

As pleasurable as the physical sensations were for her, the sight of the ghosts' threatening, revengeful eyes--eyes only she, other ghosts, and other psychics could see--was much more frightening for her. Even though the ghosts all knew the masked men were responsible for their afterlife woes, they still blamed Camilla for tempting them into this eternal nightmare with her charms.

The lechers up on the ledge, all with their cell-phone cameras out, never stopped getting video of poor, degraded Camilla. They all tried to get a close-up, detailed image of her gaping pussy and asshole, and of the expression of humiliation on her face as she helplessly watched them all ogle her. The cameras all caught an image of her with her legs spread wide open and up over either side of her head, with her agape pussy-lips and anal lips slightly widening and contracting, like the lips of a fish, or of a smoker blowing smoke rings. Her erect nipples would bob up and down slightly in reaction to the sucking lips of Desiree's and Mercedes' ghosts. Camilla's eyes showed near despair as they helplessly beheld the lascivious smiles of all those men pointing their cameras at her naked body. She couldn't even frown, so busy was her mouth taking in Joey's invisible cock, feeling it poke a bulge against her right cheek, and her kissing and licking the knob.

Among all of Camilla's living watchers, only one looked on with compassion instead of lust. His name was Armand, one of Dr. Singh's former AIDS patients.

***************

HIV-positive, he'd gone to Vancouver from Los Angeles a week before, and he received a small portion of Singh's Nigrovum-enhanced blood in a shot. He and Singh meditated together, visualizing Armand completely cured, and the HIV virus in him disintegrated within seconds of their most focused meditation.

Overjoyed at having a new chance at life, Armand asked, "Dr. Singh, how did you find this miraculous Nigrovum?"

"I didn't find it, actually," Singh said. "A girl I know found it over two decades ago on the Vancouver grass; her name is Camilla Mennon-Fox. Back when she was living here in Vancouver, she and I had sex, and ironically, she passed Nigrovum on to me, as if it were an STD. When I learned of the amazing healing abilities I'd acquired from it with the aid of visualization, I tried it out as a cure for sexually-transmitted diseases. I was amazed at how quickly and easily it can cure all diseases, including AIDS. But I had to make sure that the patients I cured had good hearts, so as not to misuse this power once they had it. That's why I had to make sure you were a good man before offering you the cure. Otherwise, you might have gone back to your old promiscuous ways, or done something worse with it."

"Oh, I'll never go back to my old player ways again, Doctor, I promise you," Armand said. "But where is Camilla now? What's she doing?"

"Actually, she is in a terrible predicament in a Montreal aquarium," Singh said. "Though Nigrovum ensured she'd never catch any STD, or any other disease for that matter, Nigrovum itself has become a disease for her. She developed an addiction to sex that has made her a slave to higher powers. Do you believe in God, or spirits, or the afterlife?"

"Yes, absolutely," Armand said. "I was raised a Catholic. Has the devil got her under his power?"

"You could call it the devil, or you could call it devilish men who have found Nigrovum, and used it to further their own nefarious purposes. It can give you almost unlimited powers; that's why I had to make sure you had a good heart before exposing you to this power. If you use this power irresponsibly, as Camilla did, it can destroy you, as it currently is destroying her."

"How can I help this girl? She saved my life; I want to save hers."

"Meditate with me some more," Singh said.

In between many meditation sessions over the next few days, Singh explained the whole problem with Camilla being controlled by the masked men, and that the masked men were controlling the Green Parties of all the countries of the Western world. He explained how she had been hovering naked over a water tank in the Montreal aquarium, incessantly gang-banged by spirits. Armand found this story hard to believe at first, but as he continued meditating with Singh, he could psychically feel the reality of the spirit world, and of how one could influence almost anything and anyone if one's psychic powers were developed enough.

During the many meditations, Armand was also quickly beginning to sense the interconnectedness of the universe, how it felt like an infinite ocean, with psychic waves vibrating everywhere--from his body outward, and into his body from outside. He no longer felt like an isolated ego: he recognized his body as a mass of energy at one with the energy all around him; this knowledge gave him a peace he'd never felt before. He came to love the mystic oneness of humanity.

He also soon began to have visions of the afterlife, with the heavenly and hellish realms arranged in a circular continuum, like the ouroboros biting its tail. He understood the cyclical nature of reality and of all opposites. This spiritual reality was far more profound than any he'd learned in church.

After almost a week of diligent, tireless meditating, Armand said, "I want to go to Montreal and help Camilla there."

"You can help her here, as we have been with my other cured AIDS patients," Singh said.

"Yes, but not as well as I could over there," Armand insisted.

"That is true," Singh acknowledged. "Your physical presence there will strengthen the effectiveness of your psychic powers. But I sense you have another reason to go there."

"Of course. I want to see Camilla in person."

"It's easy to see why you would. She's very beautiful, very sexy, and very naked up there," Singh said. "But I don't think you should go; you may get tempted away from your spiritual progress."

"No, I won't," Armand said. "I know the dangers of catching life-threatening diseases from sex, and I don't want to get any of Camilla's lust-energy. I feel compassion for her, and I want to help her."

"You love her," Singh added.

"Yes, but in a good way, I promise."

Sensing sincerity and conviction in Armand's thoughts, Singh said, "Very well, then. Go to Montreal. But be aware of how powerful the masked men are, and of how difficult it will be to save her."

"I will."

***************

When Armand saw the naked woman hovering over the water tank with her legs spread out, spewing come, with her pussy and asshole gaping, was he turned on? She certainly was beautiful, with a flawless body: black hair and eyes, like the Latinas he used to enjoy back in his sexually rapacious days, but also with 'Goth' pale skin; though she was 37, she looked 25. He understood how one can use Nigrovum to slow ageing, so this age disparity didn't surprise him. He felt no visceral shock at seeing her hovering in mid-air, either, for Dr. Singh had told him all about the masked men, and their formidable collective psychic power.

Armand also saw the irony of Nigrovum in its most vividly poignant way: it had cured him of an STD, but for Camilla, Nigrovum was an STD. This ordeal she was going through was her AIDS, and since she'd cured him--indirectly through Singh as a mediator--now Armand could repay her by using Nigrovum to cure her of the ill effects of Nigrovum. How like the paradoxical ouroboros conception of opposites: the cure, the serpent's biting head, had become the disease, the serpent's bitten tail; and ironically, more of the 'disease' would cure her of the disease, with his spiritual energy replacing her lust-energy.

But was he lusting after this naked woman? Surprisingly, this formerly sexually ravenous man wasn't. The spiritual connectedness he'd developed through his constant meditating made him focus on her pain and her fear, feelings he'd been freed of only recently. Though she was exciting to look at--during his old Don Juan days, he'd have wanted to ravish such a delicious naked girl on the spot--his pity overrode his lust. The resulting synthesis? He fell in love with her immediately.

At this point, a new group of spirits were gang-banging Camilla. Gone were the ghosts of Lawson, Alain, Joey, Desiree, and Mercedes: now Camilla had Danny's spirit fucking her soaking wet pussy; Mr. Patterson's invisible cock was sliding in and out of her ass; Mr. Finch's ghost had wrapped her tits around his invisible cock; and Calina's invisible hairy pussy was in Camilla's face, with Camilla's tongue flickering quickly against Calina's hard clit. Camilla's come kept pouring out into the water below.

About twenty seconds after one particularly large gushing of come, which caused a chorus of cheers from her enthralled audience, Camilla began pissing into the water again in a beautiful, golden arc.

"Alright!" shouted one lecher as he brought his cell-phone camera closer to indulge his urolagnia. "It's raining again!"

"This is porno heaven!" said the man getting video beside the first man. "This is all going online. An epic porno film!"

Camilla's body was shaking back and forth like a bronc rider as the invisible cocks of Patterson's and Danny's ghosts were ramming in and out of her gaping wet holes, faster and more aggressively. Her shaking head and flickering tongue, ever stimulating Calina's invisible cunt, made her look like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. The pressing of Finch's invisible hands against her tits as he squeezed them around his cock fascinated her viewers, too. The bottom of her tits would push up every time Finch pushed his cock up against them.

"Check it out," a third lecher with a cell-phone camera said. "A ghost's hands are squeezing her tits...look! She's getting tit-fucked."

How was Armand able to resist the temptation all her other viewers were so joyfully giving in to? The more selfless you are, the less power the masked men can have over you. They can control you only a little, for relatively brief periods of time, if you have no Nigrovum in you; the more you have in you, the more they can control you. Her viewers had no Nigrovum in them, but the fascinating sight of Camilla in itself was enough to keep them watching; and if they ever got tired and wanted to go home, the masked men would use their collective power to revive her viewers' lust. By the time the masked men's power had let up on the viewers, they were already hooked into watching her all by themselves.

The spread of the Nigrovum in Camilla's come into other people's blood was crucial to the masked men's success. The lust-energy, and fear-energy, in the Nigrovum she transmitted sexually made other people more ego-driven, which was the opposite of how Armand, Agape, Don, Mr. Pierce, and Dr. Singh were. This is why the masked men failed with controlling mystics, but succeeded eerily with everyone else.

Armand sensed Camilla's feelings of near despair, but also her inhibitions from fully indulging in that despair. He sensed the mental torture she was going through. One thing the masked men couldn't do was stop a victim from dying; but they could do something close to that--dissuade a victim from feeling despair through fear of the hellish realms in the afterlife. This is how they kept Camilla alive, as they did all the other nymphos they were controlling all around the world.

Sensing the psychic powers of Singh and his former AIDS patients, as well as the spirits of Agape, Don, and Candice in their efforts to keep the glass of the water tank from breaking, Armand wanted to help his new love. Disgusted at all the lechers on the upper level getting video of her spread on their cell-phone cameras, he tried to use Nigrovum to turn the cameras off. He couldn't, and he sensed the presence of a man far more adept at using Nigrovum than he was. He tried to turn the cameras off again with his psychic powers; again, that other man was blocking his power.

Frustrated, Armand attempted another tactic: he visualized those ghosts being pulled off of Camilla's body. He focused and concentrated as hard as he could, and for a brief moment, the ghosts were surprised to feel themselves slowly coming off of her body. Camilla felt Calina's pussy move up from her mouth, and Camilla's tongue was given a much-needed rest. Patterson's and Danny's cocks slid out of her asshole and pussy; she would have preferred to feel them inside her, though. Finch's hands had let go of her tits, and she got a rest from the soreness they'd been feeling.

"What?" she said. "Am I being freed?" She looked around at whoever was helping her; her psychic powers guided her to look over towards the back of the upper ledge, behind all the lechers with their cell-phone cameras. She couldn't quite see Armand, but she knew help was back there.

Seconds later, though, those ghosts came back down on her, and Armand felt a psychic knock on his head, making him fall back against the wall. The gang-banging of Camilla resumed, and Armand looked down into the observation area of the aquarium, where he sensed the presence of the man who'd been interfering with him. He saw a man with the mask of an ancient Greek comic actor hiding his face. Armand looked back up at Camilla, who had just come another wad into the water tank.




Camilla Ch. 106



"Yeah!" one of the men on the ledge shouted. "She's back in action!"

"What the fuck happened a few seconds ago?" a man standing beside the first one asked. "The fucking stopped for a second."

"Who cares?" the first man said. "Keep watching, and keep filming. No need to ask questions." The filming continued.

Camilla wanted to thank whoever had tried to help her, but Calina's invisible pussy was muffling her mouth.



Camilla Ch. 107



Unconscious Camilla was now reliving a memory from a year before the aquarium incident. She was thirty-six at the time, and wearing a tight-fitting dress, high heels, and heavy makeup. She was at home, sitting on the sofa in the living room one December afternoon after having just finished teaching at McGill University. She'd heard some unpleasant news earlier that afternoon: Alain had killed himself.

She sat there for several minutes just musing his death. Though sad about it, and feeling more than a little responsible for passing Nigrovum into him, something she knew had expanded his sorrowful feelings, she was confident Alain wouldn't attack her as a ghost. After all, she'd been kind and comforting to him after their one sexual encounter; she would learn in the not-too-distant future how wrong that assumption was.

After a few more minutes of contemplating Alain, Eros came home. He was seventeen and a half years old now. When he walked into the living room, she got up, suddenly all happy to see her son.

"Hi, sweetie!" she said with a grin, and went up to hug him. She had to look straight up at him as they hugged, for her face was level with the huge boy's chest. "How are you?"

"Oh, better now that I'm with you," he said, sitting on the sofa.

"What happened now?" she asked, sitting on his lap. "Did the other kids give you a hard time again?"

"Yeah," he said. "But I didn't fight with any of them."

"Good boy," she said, kissing his cheek. "Remember, Mommy likes nice boys."

"Oh, please don't call yourself that. Especially not in public. I'm not a baby anymore. I'm almost a fully-grown man now."

"You sure are big enough to be, my adorable giant. Still, you are, and always will be, my baby."

"I wanna be a man, Mom."

"Don't rush adulthood, sweetie," she said, hugging him close. "Jesus once said that if you're not like a child, you won't get to heaven." Then she felt a most unwelcome sensation from his lap, where she was still sitting. "And you won't get to heaven thinking like that, either."

"Like what?" he asked, pretending not to know what she was alluding to.

"You know what I mean. Make him go to sleep."

"But Mom, it's just an automatic--"

"Baby, nice boys don't think that way about their Mommies. Make him go to sleep."

"Sorry."

***************

Suddenly, 37-year-old Camilla woke up, frightened from knowing what memories were soon to be relived. Her eyes focused, and she saw all those lecherous men on the ledge with their cell-phone cameras still getting video of her with her spread-out legs. She would have only frowned at the sight of all those cameras aiming at her gaping pussy and asshole, had she no invisible cock sliding in and out of her wide-open mouth. 

Alain's ghost's invisible cock was pumping in and out of her dripping wet cunt. You seduced me, then you left me wanting more, he mentally told her. Sure, you were compassionate when I complained about my abusive father, but I'd fallen in love with you, and even after your husband died, you wanted to be only my friend, no longer a lover. You put this alien intelligence in my blood, and never warned me about the dangers. You selfish bitch!

She couldn't psychically reply to that. After all, he was right. Her only response was to come a huge wad into the water over which she was hovering, since, though his words didn't make her feel good, his ghost-cock sure did. 

Danny's ghost-cock was sliding in and out of her damp asshole. Alain's right, Danny said in his thoughts. You got us in bed, but didn't tell us about Nigrovum's dangers. And, oh, how I degraded myself for you! I wish I'd never met you.

Chris's invisible cock was all the way inside her mouth. Her fingers flickered by her chin, for she was tickling his balls.

One of the lechers, on the ledge that was level with her hovering naked body, noted how she was sucking. "Is she deep-throating a ghost's cock?" he asked his friend, who stood beside him. 

"Looks that way," said his friend. "If you're right, she has good control over her gag reflex. I can't believe this porn marathon we're watching here!"

The ghost of Vera, the former waitress at Club Ritz who'd had the hots for Camilla back in those days, was sucking on her left tit. Akemi's ghost was sucking on the right one. Her breasts bobbed up and down with each suck. 

I'll never forget the night you finally let me lick your pussy, Vera mentally told Camilla. If only you'd told me what was in your come, I'd never have had you, and I might still be alive today.

"It has been about a month now that Dr. Camilla Mennon-Fox has been hovering naked over a water tank here in this aquarium," said a female reporter for CBC's The National. "Now that the truth is known, that Camilla and many other naked young women in countries all over the Western world are being gang-raped by Muslim ghosts, and being made to foul rivers, lakes, and aquariums just as Camilla is here, the Green Parties of Canada, America, England, Germany, and many other Western countries are forming a coalition willing to fight the Islamo-fascist menace. The emergency laws the Green Parties have enacted are facilitating the quick and easy capture of all these Arab men who've mysteriously acquired psychic and telekinetic powers in a new wave of terrorism, of environmental terrorism. This reporter can confidently assert that she's not alone in feeling grateful for the ascendancy of Green Parties in Western countries over the past decade for so; for only the Green Party has proven themselves able to protect our women and our natural resources from degradation."

The gang-banging continued: Camilla showered more come and piss into the water tank. The large ghost-cocks of Alain and Danny continued poking at her A-spot and massaging her G-spot and rectal walls, giving her a pleasure so great that it almost made her forget how humiliating the whole experience was, with all those people watching her. Chris's invisible cock then came out of her mouth; he slapped his rod against her cheeks a few times, then he went away. Finally free from sucking, she looked down to her left, and saw all the mesmerized people below in the observation area watching her through the glass, glass that the spirits of her father, Don, and Candice were still psychically trying to keep from breaking. Camilla shuddered when she saw a masked man among that hypnotized crowd below. 

She then looked up in front of her, where all the men were getting video of her gushing pussy, and cheering with every gushing. "When will this end?" she wondered.

When you give up your life, Dr. Singh mentally communicated from Vancouver.

"I'm too scared to die," she said out loud. 

We've done all we can, Don told her in his thoughts. When will you do what you must do?

When I'm ready, she mentally answered.

And when will that be? Agape asked.

We can't keep that glass from breaking forever, Candice added.

There's still more I need to know, Camilla told them. Stuff I have to find out for myself, about Eros.

We can tell you that right now. Eros is in-- Agape began, but the masked men blocked him, preventing him from telling her.

Camilla, no longer able to communicate with her father and friends, looked at the men in front of her. She noticed, among the lechers, one man who had no camera, a man who instead looked at her with concern and love in his eyes--Armand.

She sensed that he was the man who'd almost freed her from the gang-bangs before. Feeling his love for her, she said, "Thank y--"

Suddenly, however, she was interrupted by the feeling of a pussy being shoved in her face, the pussy of the ghost of Clara, the lesbian owner of the Toronto clothing store in the Eaton's Centre. Camilla was compelled to lick the invisible clitoris and suck on the labia. Then she had to stick her tongue deep inside the hole and flicker it. Clara's ghost enjoyed the sensations, but was as mad as the other ghosts at Camilla for tempting them to their destruction. 

"Alright!" shouted a man standing beside Armand. "I'll bet she's licking a lesbian ghost now. Yeah!" He brought his cell-phone camera down for a close-up of Camilla's cunt.

Armand, desperate to end Camilla's humiliation, closed his eyes and began to concentrate. Hoping to succeed where he'd failed before, he summoned all of his will not only to visualize the ghosts floating away from Camilla's body, but also to put psychic barriers around himself and Camilla, so neither the masked man down in the observation area, nor the living and dead masked men controlling this spectacle from elsewhere, could stop him. 

He and Camilla could each feel a glowing bubble of blue light surrounding and protecting themselves. Soon after, the ghosts of Danny, Alain, Clara, Akemi, and Vera all felt themselves slowly floating off of Camilla. 

She relaxed her whole body, her limbs lowering to the point of almost touching the surface of the soiled water. "Please," she panted. "Let it be permanent this time."

The men watching her, however, had a different reaction. "What the fuck?" one of them said.

"Not again!" said another. "Get the ghosts back! Pronto!"

"Could this be it?" the reporter asked. "Is Camilla's ordeal finally about to end? We know that many members of the Green Party have developed psychic powers in their counter-terrorist efforts. Have the Green Party finally prevailed against the Muslim psychics? We'll soon see." 

Armand is succeeding! Candice said with a thrill of hope.

I'm afraid I doubt it, Dr. Singh told her. As gifted as Armand is with Nigrovum, the many masked men out there are much more powerful.

Indeed, Singh was right, for the masked men focused all their efforts on Armand. Within seconds, they broke through his and Camilla's psychic barriers, leaving them vulnerable again. Camilla's legs were spread out wide and made to go back up over her head again, exposing her pussy and asshole. The masked men caused Armand to be thrown against a wall, knocking him into a few of the men who'd been recording the ghost-fucking.

"Hey, watch it, fuck-head!" one of the men shouted. The men Armand had knocked into were ready to fight with him, but he had been knocked unconscious.

"Hey, the ghost-fucking is back!" said another man. All the men pointed their cell-phone cameras back at Camilla's spread, and resumed getting video of her.

The invisible cocks of Alain and Danny quickly slipped back inside Camilla's pussy and ass. Vera's and Akemi's ghost-lips wrapped themselves around Camilla's nipples again, and Clara's cunt was pushed against Camilla's mouth, with her tongue slipping deep inside and tickling Clara's invisible vaginal walls. Camilla's agape pussy and asshole were expanding and contracting with each pump of the ghost-cocks inside.

The lecherous cameramen licked their lips as they continued with their video recording, their cheers getting especially loud with every gushing of Camilla's come, and every pouring out of her piss. 

"Oh, this is so disappointing," the newswoman said. "It really looked as though The Green Party had succeeded against the Muslim terrorist psychics. But unfortunately, victory remains elusive, for now. Still, this reporter has faith that the Green Party will ultimately defeat these environmental terrorists. We must not lose hope."

As scary as my more recent memories will be to relive in my dreams, I need a break from my waking horrors, Camilla thought in her most bitter frustration. Who is that man helping me? I can sense that he loves me, and he's kind of cute, actually. Still, there's no way I'm going to fuck him as long as I'm stuck here. Besides, he'll just end up like all of my other lovers: dead and mad at me. Speaking of being in love with me, I've got to face those memories of my 18-year-old son, and hope that--behind all the horror of watching him fulfill his desires--I'll find some insights that can help me get free of the masked men forever. Oh, Eros, why did you have to fuck me?...

With that thought, Camilla bravely allowed herself to lose consciousness again, and relive her most horrifying and shameful memories yet...



Camilla Ch. 108



Unconscious Camilla was now reliving a memory from about two months before the aquarium incident. It was late July, and her son Eros had turned eighteen a couple of weeks earlier. His incestuous feelings for his mother had now reached a state too intolerable for him to carry on patiently without acting on them: he had to know what it would be like to have sex with her.

So many other young men had enjoyed her sweet body over the years, and Eros was burning with envy from their pleasure they'd obviously had. Though he knew that death was the near-inevitable consequence of fucking Camilla, he had no fear: she wouldn't be passing any Nigrovum-energy to him that he didn't already have, for he was half-Nigrovum, half-Camilla. He had no father, and he was proud of it; he was half-alien, half human--half an enigmatic extra-terrestrial being with seemingly limitless psychic powers, and half the untameable sexual desires of his mother.

Though he was jealous of all her other lovers, he never judged her harshly for her promiscuity, for he was hopelessly in love with her. She may have been a whore in other men's eyes, but to him, she was indistinguishable from the Virgin Mary, or Isis, or any of the mothers of myth who'd miraculously become pregnant. In his eyes, Camilla was a goddess.

As a child, he would love listening to the stories she'd tell him about his extraordinary birth: microscopic, ovoid black alien life forms, all identical to each other in appearance, had been pushed through outer space by the solar winds to the Earth's orbit; there, they came down to the Earth in the rain, landing on the Vancouver grass. Camilla told him that, as a girl, she had lain, or sat, on the grass, and the 'tiny black eggs' slipped into the pores of her skin through the morning dew. (Only later on, when he'd scanned her mind, blocking her so she wouldn't know of his scanning, did he learn the 'uncensored story' of her as a teen masturbating and coming on the grass, and of Nigrovum going into her body through her pussy.)

She'd always called those aliens 'The Sons of God,' after the divine beings referred to in Genesis chapter six; the aliens may well have been divine, but Camilla, his mother, was the one he'd always worship. He loved her story about using Nigrovum to create him in her womb, all without the aid of a man impregnating her. Nigrovum may have given her all those amazing powers, but it was her ingenious use of it that made her a genuine goddess in his eyes. She had created a living being inside her body, something only the women and goddesses of myth had ever done. And she was so beautiful, ever preserving her youth by using Nigrovum to slow her ageing--she may have been thirty-seven years old, but she looked only twenty-five. And she loved him completely; for all these reasons was he so in love with her.

He hated how different he felt from everyone else, being half-alien, and gigantic in height--he was now almost eight feet tall, and his short mother came up to just under where his heart was. Though other people regarded him as a freak, she would always love him just the way he was. She, always perfumed, heavily made up, and in sexy, revealing, tight-fitting clothes, regularly hugged and kissed him, and this affection invariably gave him an erotic charge.

She, of course, knew of his desires, and had done everything in her power to restrain him. Her dominant relationship with him made sure that he'd always suppress his so unacceptable feelings for her. Knowing, however, that mere shaming would not be enough to keep him at bay forever, she ensured that her setting up of powerful psychic barriers would keep his own quite formidable powers with Nigrovum from ever getting her naked in front of him, let alone in bed with him.

He had been fighting with his guilt for years, trying to avoid succumbing to temptation and seducing her. He knew he could have dissolved her psychic barriers and enjoyed her years before, but the shame of staining her and himself always stopped him. Now, however, he couldn't take it anymore: he had to know what her tight, wet vagina--his own place of origin--would feel like hugging his phallus.

In recent years, he'd discovered his mother's old pornography website, and had obsessively poured over her pictures and video while masturbating, always carefully scrutinizing every millimetre of her sacred body. His subtle use of psychic blocks ensured she'd never suspect anything, even the existence of the blocks.

One time before discovering her old website, so eager had be been to know what his mother looked like naked, he sat on his bed and meditated. Nigrovum gave him a vision of Carl's first nude painting of Camilla, and Eros obsessively painted a copy, replicating everything from the original, except for the blonde hair, blue eyes, and peach skin of the then eighteen-year-old model; for Eros wanted to see his mother as she now looked, with her black hair, black eyes, and pale skin, Nigrovum's gift of the 'Goth look' that he also had.

Though he could psychically sense every crevice of her nude body, and mentally know it as if it were his own, he wanted to know her on a human level--physically, like a lover. That's why he had to fuck her.

Her psychic powers were well-developed enough to detect his plans to seduce her from, as it were, a mile away, so he'd need the aid of something to throw her off her guard--Rohypnol, sometimes used as a date rape drug, though he wanted only to please her sexually. She always called him her 'baby'; he wanted her to know him as a man.

That night in late July, he set his plan in motion. He was careful not to let his thoughts dwell on sex with her, for fear of her picking up on his psychic signals and thwarting him.

In his bedroom, he sensed her downstairs in the living room watching TV. Exhausted after a long day's work teaching in Montreal's McGill University, she'd fixed herself a glass of Jim Beam, in memory of her father's old habit; though she'd only occasionally drink at night, and have only one, for fear of Eros taking advantage of her while drunk.

He sensed her taking a small sip of her bourbon, then getting up and leaving the living room to use the washroom. This was his cue: he casually got a tablet of Rohypnol from his back-pack and left his room, leaving his mind blank so she wouldn't suspect him. He went downstairs and into the living room, where her drink was, on a table by her chair. On TV was a broadcast of CBC's The National, showing a debate between Green Party members and a conspiracy theorist. The conspiracy theorist, actually, was Mr. Pierce, Camilla's old high school gym teacher.

"More and more of us are on to you Greens," Pierce said. "We know how you've been collaborating with the media, the banks, and the army to turn Canada into a police state."

Not only did the Greens laugh at his accusation, but so did the host of the debate.

"See?" Pierce continued. "You have the media on your side."

"Mr. Pierce," said one of the Greens. "Everyone knows that these wars against Muslim terrorism are perfectly justified and necessary. We have the people's support."

"I must agree," the host of the debate said. "And however unpleasant the new emergency laws' are, with their restrictions on our freedom, they're nonetheless indispensable in the fight against terror."

"Terror that may be going psychic," said another Green.

"That's another thing," Pierce said. "We've all heard recent, bizarre stories about naked girls in various parts of the Western world hovering in mid-air over rivers and lakes, orgasming, urinating, and defecating into the water. Nobody as of now knows what's causing this. The Green Party claims that Muslim terrorists may have acquired psychic and telekinetic powers, gained apparently from communicating with the souls of the dead. I can predict that, in a few months at most, the Greens will present bogus 'evidence' that it's the Muslim terrorists who are causing those girls to hover naked over all the water, when actually it's been the Green Party's doing all along--" Pierce was again being interrupted by loud laughter, "--and the Greens will say that the girls have toxic substances psychically put in their urine and faeces. You laugh now, but remember my words in a few months when the media, including The National, accuses the Muslims of doing exactly what I'm saying!"

"I'm sure you conspiracy theorists will have some more 'interesting stories' for us in a few months," said the first Green.

"I'm sure, too," said the host.

"How much are the Greens paying you to side with them?" Pierce asked the host.

Looking away from the TV and back at Camilla's drink, Eros dropped the tablet in and casually walked away. The pill quickly dissolved in her drink, so she surely wouldn't notice anything foreign in it when she returned; he also visualized a psychic 'screen', a subtle, imperceptible barrier that kept her from mentally sensing what he'd put in her drink.

Hating the smell of piss on her pussy, Camilla cleaned herself in the shower after getting off the toilet. When she was finished in the bathroom, she returned to the living room, sat down, and took a swig of her bourbon. She relaxed and watched more of the debate on the TV.

"Oh, no more Mr. Pierce," she said, now that the debate was finished. "It's so sad to see you just as crazy as Dr. Singh."

Ten minutes later, she began to feel dizzy and disoriented; suspecting that Eros was up to no good, she tried to use Nigrovum to regain control of herself. So powerful was the pill that she was barely able to keep herself awake, hovering somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Eros returned to the living room, having used the shape-shifting powers of Nigrovum to make himself look like Danny, the boy Camilla had fucked fourteen years before, back in Toronto. Eros, with his prodigious skill with Nigrovum, had scanned her memories, and sensed Danny's psychic energy on her from back then; that's how Eros was able to clone Danny so accurately, even without having ever met him.

In her still deeply disoriented state, Camilla couldn't use Nigrovum to counter the effects of the Rohypnol; besides, Eros was subtly blocking her efforts to counter it. He had also caused her to think she was in the burning mansion of her old dreams.

"Hi Camilla," 'Danny' said, standing before her.

"Am I d-dreaming?" she slurred.

"Yes, you are," he said. "Let's make love, like old times."

"B-but you died, sweetie," she said, blinking in disbelief. "You died 'cause of me. Aren't you mad at me, like all the other ghosts?"

"Not at all. I forgive you. My death was the masked men's fault, not yours."

"Thank you, b-baby. Yeah, let's m-make love." She got up and started undressing. In the middle of unbuttoning her blouse, she stopped. "W-wait a minute. I d-don't dream anymore. I psychically stopped m-my dreaming almost twenty years ago, to stop the g-ghosts from giving me nightmares. I don't understand."

"I broke through your barrier," Eros said in Danny's voice. "I needed you. I keep thinking about how mean my mom was to me when I was alive, and how awful it is here in hell." He started crying. "I need you, my second mom."

"Oh, of course, baby," Camilla said maternally, opening her arms out wide to give him a hug. "Come see Mamma." They hugged each other tightly, and since he was now her height, she easily kissed him on the cheek. Then she continued undressing. He subtly used Nigrovum to keep her just awake enough to keep from falling on the floor. He started undressing too.

Her blouse came off, revealing a black lace brassiere, something he was seeing on her for the first time in the flesh. He was breathing heavily as he pulled off his shirt.

She undid and pulled down her dress pants, revealing her black panties. When he pulled down his pants, his erection was poking a big bulge in his briefs.

"You l-look so c-cute in your underwear, sweetie!" she said. He blushed.

Now wearing only her underwear, as he was, she unhooked her bra. He was salivating with anticipation of seeing the beautiful pair he'd seen only in pictures, video, and psychic visions. Her bra came off with a wiggle of her tits and her grinning in her old 'Kitty' persona. He was practically drooling at the sight of her erect nipples, turned black by Nigrovum, as his were.

He took off his underwear, and his erection bounced up and down after the elastic of his briefs had pulled down on his dick; then it was perpendicular to his standing body. She pulled down her panties, revealing her black pubic hair. Now she stood naked before him: his beautiful, sexy mother, with her 'Goth-looking' black hair and eyes, and her pale skin. He was in awe, and in an ecstasy of lust.

"So, what shall we do first, angel?" she asked him, kept reasonably awake and under his control by his psychic powers.

"Um, can I see you, uh, down there?" he asked shyly, pointing down at her crotch.

"My vagina? Sure, sweetie!" she said with a wide grin. She lay down on the floor on her back and spread her legs. He got down between them to get a close-up look. Her cunt was now purple, another consequence of the Nigrovum in her blood. He could have changed all her body colours back to the original ones she'd had when she was his age, but he preferred her with her 'Goth' look, since this way she looked more like him.

She spread her pussy-lips out wide, and he looked inside. Fresh and pretty-smelling: so this is where I came from, he thought, confident that she was too disoriented to scan his thoughts. What's it like in there, this beautiful inner sanctum? He used Nigrovum to create a tiny dot of light so he could see her vaginal walls: purple, and perfect. It's so...indescribable! How much of that is her, and how much of it Nigrovum? Where does my humanity end, and alien-nature begin?

He kissed and licked her clitoris, getting it hard within seconds. He sucked on it for a while, then sucked on her already swollen labia. She was moaning softly in enjoyment of his sensitive lips and tongue. He was moaning twice as loud as she was. His heavy exhalations on her wet cunt got her hotter. He slid his tongue inside, used Nigrovum to lengthen his tongue, then rolled it all over her vaginal walls, leaving no crevices untasted. The tip of his now Gene Simmons-like tongue tapped at her A-spot, bringing her closer to orgasm. She was sighing at higher and higher pitches, louder and louder.

"Oh, baby," she moaned. "You know how to do it. Oh!"

He pulled out his tongue and shortened it back to the length of Danny's. Then he crawled on top of her, bringing his face up to her large breasts. Whenever you speak of the old days of breast-feeding me, I get so excited I almost lose control, he thought. Now, finally, I get to do it again.

He licked his lips and wrapped them around her right nipple, hugging it tightly. He sucked gently, but with strong inhalations, causing her to lactate. He was gulping down a generous helping of her milk; then he moved to her left nipple and did the same with that one. She sighed with pleasure.

"Yes, Danny baby," she moaned. "Suck Mommy's breast; let me...feed you, my little darling. Oh!"

Eros got up to her face. He was teary-eyed from all the delight he was getting from his mother. He gazed into her eyes and gently pecked her on the lips.

"Wanna make love...with Mommy, Danny?" she asked in sighs.

"Oh, yes!" 'Danny' said, panting in anticipation. "I love you so much, Mamma."

"I love you too, dear," she cooed, putting her arms around him. He slowly slid his hard-on inside her soaking wet cunt.

"Oh!" they moaned together, her an octave higher than him. He pushed all the way in, and she squealed. She wrapped her legs around his ass.

He shoved his cock in and out of her pussy, which came after the second thrust; he was surprised and thrilled to feel her gushing all over his balls. He couldn't stop thinking about how amazing it was that he was finally fucking his beautiful, sexy, divine mother! He gently fondled her breasts as he poked away inside her, faster and harder, since he knew from watching her porno videos that she liked her sex like that. She squealed and screamed, higher and louder, confirming what he already knew. She came a second time, flooding his cock and balls, and making a pool of come on the living room carpet.

See, Mom? he thought, still ramming. I'm a man, not a baby!

Finally, he came inside her. (In his previous psychic meditations, he'd sensed the sterility of his semen, so he knew he could confidently come inside her without her ever getting pregnant.) He got off her and lay beside her, resting for several minutes and regaining his breath.

"Did you...enjoy that, Mom?" he asked her, still with Danny's voice.

"Yes, baby," she sighed. "That was...the best one yet."

He grinned from ear to ear. See, Mom? he thought. I'll prove a better lover than all your past lovers combined. We'll do this lots of times, and eventually, I'll let you know that it's been your own son who's been giving you so much pleasure. You've committed incest before; you did with your dad when he was alive, so fucking me shouldn't be too much of a shock to you. Soon, you won't need any other men but me, for I know exactly how to get you off. Then I won't be jealous anymore, and you won't cause the deaths of any more people. It's all for the best. And with you obtaining my psychic powers, together we will fight off the masked men one day.

Having finally regained his breath, he put his mouth over the lake of her come on the carpet and began lapping it all up, using Nigrovum to get all of the moisture off the carpet without licking up any of the lint or dirt. After a few minutes of lapping, the carpet was as dry as it had been before her orgasms. Releasing his psychic hold over her, he let his exhausted mother yield to the Rohypnol and lose consciousness. Then he changed back to his original, giant form, and carried her naked body upstairs to her bedroom. He lay her on her bed and pulled the blankets over her. She always slept nude, so he hadn't bothered putting any clothes on her. He put her clothes in the laundry basket, as she would have done had he not fucked her. All of this would ensure that, the next morning, she wouldn't suspect that anything strange had happened that night.

****************

The Camilla of two months later relived this memory with a feeling as though her hair had been standing on end. She sensed that his orgasm inside her had given her some of his unique psychic powers, and the hope that this gave her made her reliving of this incestuous horror almost bearable. Now she'd just have to figure out what she could do with those new abilities, and if they would be enough to help her defeat the masked men.



Camilla Ch. 109



Now Camilla was reliving a memory from four days after her son's drugging and seduction of her; she would re-experience Eros' second sexual encounter with her. 

Again, this was late July, about a month before she was stripped naked by ghosts and first made to hover naked over a water tank in a Montreal aquarium. She'd just come home one night after a hard day of teaching in McGill University, just as she had four days previously. Indeed, she was having the most annoying of bad luck: she already had one summer evening course to teach, but about a week before that night, she'd been told that three other English professors had all suddenly fallen ill, and only she was available to replace them. These professors had also been teaching summer classes on the same days as hers, but in the morning and afternoon. So every Tuesday and Friday of that summer would be exhausting for her, days full of endless teaching. 

Little did Camilla know (for she was being psychically blocked from finding out) that the arrangement of all her extra work was Eros' doing. He'd used Nigrovum to cause those other profs to get sick suddenly, so she'd be tired at night from replacing all of them. He had begun his plans to have her a few weeks before, all using the utmost subtlety: he didn't want her to suspect that her wooziness at night was being caused by the Rohypnol tablets he was dropping in her bourbon, so he'd make sure she was already tired when coming home two nights out of every week. He--anxious to fuck her--didn't want to wait another month and a half for the next school year to start, so he used Nigrovum to learn about the other profs' classes, and ensured only his mother's availability as a replacement for the profs whom he'd psychically made sick...sick for the remainder of the summer. He'd have her, and she wouldn't know...until he wanted her to know.

After dropping off a bundle of essays on the living room coffee table, Camilla went to the kitchen to fix herself a glass of Jim Beam and Coke. Then she went back into the living room, sat on her chair, and turned on the TV. She turned the channel to CBC's The National. That night, Dr. Singh was debating with a member of the Green Party.

"I suspect that the roots of this government corruption go back many years before the rise of the Green Party," Singh said calmly to his incredulous host and sneering Green opponent. "By promoting a policy of divide and conquer, the Greens--with their friends in the media, the banks, big business, and the army--have kept the masses distracted, too distracted to pay attention to the political issues that matter."

"Oh, really?" asked the host in a more than skeptical tone. "And what would this 'divide and conquer' policy involve?"

"That is easily explained," Singh said. "The political Left and Right are portrayed in the media as irreconcilable opposites, hopelessly hostile to each other; and yet it makes little difference which party is voted into office--be they Tories or Liberals, or in America, Democrats or Republicans--for basically the same kind of government rules the country, a statist, intrusive government that's demanding of high taxes, which are spent in dubious ways. The Greens are no different. Similarly, the sexes are divided, and taught to hate each other. Girls are taught in the media that men are the source of all of women's woes; and, forever addicted to sex through a bombardment of images of beautiful women in ads and pornography, men will always objectify women, and will always be embittered by female rejection. The people are thus distracted with hostility and an endless pursuit of pleasure, while the Greens move behind the scenes, insidiously rising in power."

"You should write novels," said the Green Party member.

"Indeed, you have an imagination that's perfect for writing fiction," added the host.

"Why am I not surprised to hear you agree with the Greens?" Singh said.

"Poor Ravinder," said Camilla after taking a sip of her bourbon. "Still crazy and paranoid after all these years."

Eros was waiting upstairs in his bedroom. Eager to have his mother again, he used Nigrovum to expand the feeling of fullness in her bladder, all the while doing it subtly enough so she wouldn't suspect it was him making her feel the urge to urinate. She got up and went to the bathroom.

He went downstairs and into the living room with a Rohypnol tablet in his hand, as he had four days previously. He dropped it in her drink and went back up to his room.

Camilla again cleaned her vagina and anus in the shower after her pee. After that, she dried herself off, got dressed, and returned to the living room. She sat and gulped down the rest of her drink.

Ten minutes later, the already very tired woman almost lost consciousness, her feeble use of Nigrovum barely keeping her awake.

Eros came back down after changing his appearance to that of Brian, the boy she'd spontaneously stripped for in a Toronto strip joint thirteen years before. Eros' skill with Nigrovum was so consummate that he knew every lover Camilla had ever had, without ever having met them. All he needed was psychic access to her memories, as well as access to Brian's lust-energy, which always vibrated in the Nigrovum swimming in Camilla's blood. 

'Brian' appeared in the living room, standing before seated Camilla.

"Hi Camilla," Eros said in Brian's voice.

Recognizing the voice, half-awake Camilla looked up at the speaker, blinking and trying to focus on his face. She saw the walls of the burning mansion of her old dreams, a sight Eros was psychically providing, of course. "Brian? Is that you?" she asked.

"Yes, Camilla, it's me," Eros said.

"Hi, sweetie," she slurred. "I'm d-dreaming again, right?"

"Yes," he said.

"And you're not m-mad at me, like those other vengeful ghosts?"

"Not at all. I forgive you for passing Nigrovum into me, and I love you, even though the Nigrovum killed me."

"You're so adorable. I don't know whether to be your lover or your mommy."

"Be both? Please?" Eros asked.

"Sure, but you are a naughty little boy, aren't you, Brian?" she said.

"Yes, I am." 

"OK, let's fuck."

She stood up, and they, facing each other, began to undress. She unzipped her tight-fitting red dress at the back, pulled the top of it off her shoulders, and let it fall to the floor, revealing her pink lace bra and panties. Pulling down his shorts, Eros already felt his hard-on poking a bulge in his underwear. 

He was breathing heavily as he pulled off his shirt while watching his mother unhook her bra and take it off with a grin and a carefree wiggle of her big tits. He pulled down his underwear at the same time that she pulled down her panties, revealing his pointy erection as she revealed her black pubic hair. Now mother and son were both nude, their eyes feasting on each other's bodies, even though she didn't recognize him, since he'd changed from his original, giant form.

She got on the floor on all fours with her legs spread wide and her ass pushed out, showing off her pussy and asshole. Eros was salivating at the sight, hoping his mother would one day be just as brazen before him, without him needing to disguise himself. He got down on his knees and put his face between her buttocks. He gave her asshole one long, passionate kiss, as if it were her lips; then he began licking her vulva with long, inclusive licks, leaving not one millimetre of her external genitals untasted. She moaned softly from the sensations of his cunning, lingering tongue. 

After that, his tongue flickered and vibrated against the wrinkles of her asshole. He worshipped every inch of his mother's divine body; though she'd cleaned herself thoroughly not twenty minutes before this encounter, he wouldn't have minded sniffing and licking her even if she'd still had a faecal odour there. He was more than willing to show her his unswerving devotion, for to him, even her natural smells were still divine. 

He went back to licking her cunt, sliding his tongue inside and tickling its tip against her tingling G-spot. She sighed out loud in high pitches, coming closer and closer to orgasm. As he kept licking, he couldn't stop thinking, This is where I came from, this shrine, this Holy of Holies. I want to worship this sacred space, by giving it pleasure.

After another minute or so of receiving his licks, she came in his wide-open mouth. Knowing through his use of Nigrovum exactly when she'd come, he'd opened his mouth just in time to receive all of her cooze without missing a single drop. Indeed, none stained the carpet.

Now he straightened up and aimed his hard cock at her pussy. He slid it in, him grunting and her squealing two octaves higher. When he'd pushed it all the way in, poking at her A-spot, she screamed in whistle register and came all over his cock and balls. The excess dripped all over the carpet.

Oh, well, he thought as he continued fucking her doggy-style; I'll have a mess to clean up after all. Continuing his aggressive thrusts and making her come again and again an average of one orgasm every five pokes, he thought about how she was his one and only link to humanity. Only her motherhood kept him from being a complete freak; only her motherhood gave him a chance to be like other people. Though he was glad Nigrovum had given her the power to conceive him without a father, he still wished he wasn't half alien. He wished he was the product of only her divine body. 

"Do you...love Mommy, Brian?" she asked in high-pitched squeals. "Ah!"

"Yes, Mamma," he groaned. "Always, and forever. Unh!" 

She came again, that time her tenth since his cock had gone inside her. The carpet had a lake of come on it. He pulled his cock out slowly, making her sigh with pleasure at the electrifying sensation of his shaft touching her vaginal walls. 

"Oh, thank you, baby," she moaned when it came out. "Since you...demeaned yourself...for me...way back then, many years ago, dressing up...in women's clothes...as my priest, and receiving anal...from my gay friends,...I want to...give you back...my love. Wanna fuck...my ass?"

"Oh, yes!" Eros said. "Thank you, my Mother Goddess!"

Since she was too disoriented from the Rohypnol to be able to use Nigrovum any more than to keep herself from falling asleep, he used his powers to lubricate her anus and rectum, instead of her doing it. Within seconds, she was perfectly lubed and ready to receive his cock. Not wanting to hurt his mother, he pushed it in her asshole gently and slowly, grunting and groaning as it went in, inch by thrilling inch. 

When he had his cock all the way in, he gently pulled out half-way and pushed back in, loving the tightness of her squeezing anal lips around his happy shaft. He reached forward and cupped her breasts in his hands, gently squeezing them and pinching the nipples. She sighed at his sensitive touch. 

The tightness of her asshole was giving him a new thrill that made fucking her pussy seem almost boring in comparison, and he could feel himself nearing orgasm. 

"I love you, Mamma," he moaned before finally ejaculating inside her rectum. "Oh!"

He pulled his cock out of her ass, and lay on his side next to her where none of her come had yet soiled the carpet. She remained on all fours, as she had been when the sex had begun. They took a minute or two to catch their breath.

"Did you...enjoy that, baby?" she asked him.

"It was...incredible," he moaned. "You are...so beautiful, Mamma."

"Thanks, sweetie. I shouldn't have...made you wear...women's clothes...back then. That was...excessive."

"Oh, I don't mind," he said, still pretending to be Brian. In too much of an ecstasy to be careful with his lying, he then said, "I remember getting Emily to buy me girls' clothes, and wearing them for you; but you didn't like me dressed that way, and made me change back into boy's clothes." Suddenly, he remembered that that wasn't something Brian had done, but something he, as a six-year-old boy, had once done. A shock of fear shot through him, and Camilla vaguely sensed his fear with what little psychic power she could consciously feel. Not wanting her to suspect anything, he quickly put the memory out of his mind, got up, and began cleaning the area.

Again, he lapped up all of her come off the carpet, using Nigrovum to keep the lint and dirt from going in his mouth while getting the carpet so clean that it would soon be as dry as if it had never been soiled by her come. With her come inside him, he had more of her humanity inside him. With his come inside her, she had more of him inside her; their identities were slowly psychically merging. 

She soon gave in to the Rohypnol and lost consciousness. Now it was safe for him to change back into his original form: giant, black-haired, black-eyed, and pale-skinned. He picked her up and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. He lay her on the bed and covered her with the blankets. Then he put her clothes in the laundry as he had the last time. 

After that, he went to bed himself, thinking about what he'd done that night. Yes, Mother, he thought. I satisfied you a second time, even better, I think, than I had the first time. I am truly becoming the best lover you've ever had. If only I could tell you. Soon enough, you'll know; and with the new powers I've acquired from Nigrovum, you'll be able to relive what you now don't remember; then you'll have the proof, that I'm the one and only lover who can truly satisfy you, in ways that no other man--or woman--could ever do. Then you'll have to accept me as your lover. I'm no baby, Mamma: I'm a man, and you'll know how much of a man from the feeling of my cock inside you.

******************

The Camilla of two months later felt more of Eros' energy--and power--in the Nigrovum in her blood. Indeed, she was reliving what the Rohypnol had made her forget, seeing through his 'Brian' disguise. Though the sex was indeed some of the best she'd ever had, she could never feel good about how he was shaming her, and himself. 

She could only keep hoping that his powers would help her find a way to deliver her from the masked men. 



Camilla Ch. 011



"Lady, shall I lie in your lap?" Akemi asked Camilla as she lay down at Camilla's feet.

"No, my lord," Camila answered, affecting maidenly modestly.

"I mean, my head upon your lap?" Akemi asked.

"Ay, my lord," Camilla answered.

"Do you think I meant CUNT-ry matters?" Akemi asked.

"I think nothing, my lord," Camilla answered, again, affecting bashfulness.

"That's a fair thought to lie between maid's legs," Akemi said.

"What is, my lord?" Camilla asked.

"No-thing," Akemi shouted while opening Camilla's legs open and looking up her skirt. The Japanese-Canadian girl, normally a shy Issei, blushed and turned her head away as soon as she saw Camilla's vulva, freshly shaved and with the ring in the clitoris, instead of seeing panties.

"OK, stop," Ms. Callahan said. "Everybody take a break for five minutes. Camilla, I want to talk to you." The stern drama teacher took Camilla aside and angrily looked in her eyes. "Whose idea was it for Akemi to open your legs? It was yours, wasn't it?" Camilla, avoiding Callahan's eyes, nodded with a frown. Callahan continued: "Camilla, we're doing an all-female production of Hamlet for the year-end drama performance; we're not doing a live sex show. You're supposed to be shy Ophelia, not a prostitute; Akemi is playing Hamlet, not one of your lecherous boyfriends. Save your slutty behaviour for your dates in Lehar's." Camilla's eyes widened in fear at what smiling Callahan was implying from last Saturday night with Hanson. "Oh, and by the way," Callahan concluded with a grin, "put some underwear on." The drama teacher walked away.

"Bitch!" Camilla whispered. "She saw my pussy?" Camilla shuddered at the thought that her hated drama teacher saw her vulva. I meant only for Akemi to see it, Camilla thought. Akemi was one of those two or three girls in gym class who, with Candice, had a lesbian admiration for Camilla's nude body when all the girls took their showers. "Now I know why Mr. Hanson gave me the cold shoulder in history class today," Camilla whispered to herself. Like Mr. Grisham, he was afraid of being in trouble.

After drama class, Candice met Camilla in the hallway between classes. "Hi Camilla," Candice said. "What time are you coming home tonight?"

"Around 11:30, after Bates Massage closes," Camilla answered. Then she whispered, "I'll satisfy your lust as soon as I get home. Don't worry."

"I know, but there's something else. We've gotta talk about Mr. Pierce."

"You're still hot for our gym teacher?" Camilla asked.

"Not anymore," Candice said. "He's a pervert."

"What?"

"I'll explain it tonight when you get home, OK?"

"OK. I'm starting to think that cranky bitch Callahan's a perv, too. I hate her. She looks like my mom."

"Why do you hate your mom? Is it because of her divorcing your dad?" Candice brought her voice down especially low now, so the other girls in the hall wouldn't hear.

"That's the main reason. I love my daddy so much, and I miss him. My mom took him away from me." Now both girls kept their voices as low as possible.

"That's why you dig older men. It's an Electra Complex."

"Candice, I don't wanna...you know...with him."

"I know, sweetie, but...you and...Mr. G. and Mr. H., and all these other men you plan to...you know, like the doctor, our neighbour. You're looking for love in all the wrong places. I worry about you. You're gonna get a disease."

"Candice, I'm seeing Dr. Singh today to check for diseases."

"Camilla, you're seeing Dr. Singh today to have him check you out."

"I know. Don't worry. I'll see you tonight. I've gotta go to math class now. Bye." Candice walked into her physics class, and Camilla continued down the hall to her math class. She saw Mr. Grisham and patted him on the behind, making sure no one saw her do that. Nonchalantly walking into his classroom to begin his next lesson, Grisham ignored her as best he could.

******************

After school, Camilla changed out of her school uniform and into a skin-tight black outfit. She was nude under it, and it clung to her body so tightly that one could see the exact contours of her naked body, including her protruding nipples, her camel-toe, and her anal cleft. She pushed the sheer material between her buttocks to make that last contour visible. It was uncomfortable, but she didn't care: being sexy was unpleasant sometimes, but if it caused the men she liked to have erections, the discomfort was worth it. Even the pain from wearing high heels she'd gladly endure, if it pleased the men she wanted to sleep with. In this head-turning outfit, she went to Dr. Singh's office, with her hair done up in a bun, and her face painted in bright make-up: pink cheeks, blue eye-shadow, thick mascara, and red lips.

Though Singh was a handsome man in his early forties, he was lonely and shy, and Camilla sensed his feelings of social isolation every time she saw him in the hallway of their apartment. She never saw anyone else with him, so she correctly assumed he wasn't married. Like Akemi, he was a first generation Asian Canadian, and he seemed to be struggling with getting used to living in a new country. He spoke English with a thick accent, as did Akemi; sometimes Camilla saw white children make fun of him for being an Indian, and sympathizing with him, she would scold them every time; Singh secretly appreciated this beautiful girl's consideration, something he felt he didn't get enough of. Camilla never wanted to hurt anyone (except her mother); she only wanted to make people feel good, sex being the best way. (She felt bad about embarrassing Akemi in drama class: she'd only wanted to give the lonely girl a thrill.) Camilla felt compassion for society's outsiders, whether they were the geeky teachers her classmates only sneered at, or if they were timid immigrants like Akemi and Singh; she sympathized with them because she herself felt like an outcast sometimes, with her growing reputation as a 'bad girl' in an all-girls Catholic school.

She'd been in the waiting room for about ten minutes when the nurse told her it was her turn to see Dr. Singh; then she went in his office.

Dr. Singh's eyes widened when he saw his provocatively-dressed, sexy neighbour walk into his office. "Aren't you my neighbour?" he asked with more than a little embarrassment, remembering he'd seen her naked in their apartment hallway the week before.

"Yes, doctor," she breathily answered with wide-open eyes and pursed lips. She would continue to speak and act in this sultry manner, for she correctly sensed that this quasi-Marilyn Monroe persona was his fantasy.

"How may I help you?" he asked, his voice cracking with nervous excitement.

"Can you take a good, up-close look at my vagina and anus? I don't think I have warts, but I want to be sure. It feels sore down there."

"OK," he said, his voice increasingly wavering. "You'll need to..."

"You can disrobe behind the partition," the nurse said.

"That's OK," Camilla said. "I'll just undress here." Her outfit was one piece, with a zipper along the back, going from the nape of her neck down to her perineum. To expose her nether regions for the doctor to examine, she'd have to strip completely nude: that's why she wore the outfit. Both doctor and nurse were shocked at her insouciant undressing, but tried to hide their shock, avoiding each other's eyes.

Now naked, Camilla got on the table and spread her legs wide open as if she were nearing the end of her floor show at Luvlee's. Always reminding himself to keep a professional attitude, Dr. Singh tried desperately to control his heavy breathing as he got close to examine her flawless, shaved vulva, with the ring in her clitoris. He had always lusted after Camilla, and especially felt passionate feelings for her ever since the first time she'd defended him against the taunts of the racist white kids in their apartment building; but this was almost too much for him to bear. Here she was, as nude as Botticelli's Venus, with her creamy peach-coloured skin, her soft, large breasts topped with gum-drop nipples, and her perfect feet, which were a particular fetish for him. He'd never dreamed in a million years that he'd get so close to such naked loveliness, yet she was welcoming it! "As you can see," she said, always in her sultry, sighing voice, "I am very sexually active, so I have to be careful about diseases."

"Yes," he agreed in his always trembling voice. "AIDS is not the only danger: Chlamydia, Gonorrhoea, Syphilis--you cannot be too careful." He put some medical gloves on and put his shaking finger in her vagina to feel for warts. The shaking of his finger made for a good vibrator, and she softly moaned in pleasure. She also opened her vagina wider so he could see better. He used a penlight to see inside: he hoped the nurse present would think his reasons for using it were purely professional, for he knew they weren't the only reasons. "No warts are visible on the outside: your vulva seems clear of disease."

"Oh, good," she sighed in relief...and pleasure from his probing, vibrating finger. "I also work as a lap-dancer. If any warts are visible on my pussy and asshole (pardon my language), I can't please my customers by spreading my legs. It's important for my work to be sexy always, and I feel so insecure now."

"So far, everything seems fine," he said in stammers, knowing everything looked absolutely fantastic. "I don't feel any warts inside your vagina." Since he was bent down, he was reasonably sure the nurse didn't notice his bulging erection. He didn't at all understand why she thought she had genital warts: on the contrary, he saw the most delicious pink liquorice wheel just a few inches away from his face. He couldn't believe his luck; he'd moved to Vancouver from New Delhi five years ago, and he'd never had any luck with Canadian women; none of them even knew he was alive. Now he had a voluptuous 18-year-old blonde high school student, his neighbour, willingly displaying herself to him! Was she just having a medical check-up, or was she deliberately trying to turn him on? She'd shown herself naked to him the week before, and didn't seem at all regretful of that incident. Furthermore, why had she been in such seductive clothing prior to undressing? Why had she worn an outfit requiring her to strip completely nude just to have her vagina and anus examined, when she could have come in her school uniform, thus only needing to remove her underwear and lift up her skirt? Why bare everything when only a minimum of anatomy needed to be revealed? He saw no evidence anywhere of STDs: did she also already know this? Was this just more of her exhibitionism? Was this a deliberate come-on? He now felt Candice's quandary: if he gave expression to his passion, she might reject it, and it would be professionally damaging to him; if he seemed indifferent to her charms, she might feel insulted, and never give him another chance to have her. In any case, for the moment he had to hide his excitement: that officious nurse was in the room. Be professional! he reminded himself.

"What about my asshole...uh, anus, doctor?" she asked, and turned around so she could get on all fours on the table. She pushed out her behind so her pretty anus was in clear view, just inches from his face. Changing into a new medical glove, he put his shaking finger in her rectum in search of warts. Again, his finger was the perfect vibrating butt-plug, and she groaned in delight. As he'd suspected, he neither saw nor felt any warts on the surface, or on the inside: again, her anus was a perfect, coffee-coloured loop of sweetness. He panted as quietly as he could.

The nurse couldn't stand Camilla's immodesty and moaning anymore and finally left the room, claiming she needed to use the washroom. Let 'em screw, she thought as she walked out the door.

"I must look so ugly back there," she said, affecting insecure self-deprecation.

"No," he insisted with heavy breaths. "There's nothing wrong."

"Are you sure? Have you had a good enough look in my vagina? Please feel again in there."

He gladly did, and with fewer inhibitions now that the nurse was gone. He touched all over her genital area, ostensibly to find warts he knew weren't there. Actually, his vibrating, slipping and sliding fingers brought out high-pitched sighs of pleasure from her. He frequently touched the ring on her sensitive clitoris, getting louder and louder squeals and moans from her, until she orgasmed, a brief waterfall all over the floor. "You're in perfect health," he panted as he cleaned up the copious mess with paper towels, which he also used to cover up the big bulge in the front of his pants. It was too late, though: shed seen it, and was intrigued enough to get a house call from him.

"Still, I'm not sure," she insisted as she got off the table. "How about I come to your apartment tonight? Then you can examine me again, without that pesky nurse."

"Certainly," he panted with his eyes lit up with encouragement. "I can cook you dinner, if you wish."

"I'd love that," she said with a delighted grin to encourage him even more. "That's so sweet of you! But I won't be home till 11:30."

"That's fine. I'll see you then." He removed his medical gloves.

She got dressed, him helping to zip her up at the back: his hands trembled when holding the zipper under her still-exposed, smooth and milky buttocks, and slowly zipped it up while admiring her curvaceous body. "Bye," she sighed, looking at him with a twinkle in her eye and a grin, and left his office. He watched her as she walked out the door of the clinic.

*********************

At about 11:30 that night in Dr. Singh's apartment, he heard his doorbell ring. He opened the door, and there was Camilla. Except for her heavy make-up and high heels, she was as naked as the day she was born. "I'm here for the rest of my examination," she sighed suggestively. 



Camilla Ch. 110



Three days after the second sexual encounter between Camilla and her son Eros, a third would happen. Now unconscious Camilla was reliving that memory, in the hopes of gaining more insight into the psychic powers her son had given her in the come he'd shot inside her.

She'd been walking to her car in the university parking lot on the last Friday night of July, so tired from a long day of teaching that she thought she'd collapse on the concrete. Then suddenly, three male students of hers, a bit drunk and very aware of her reputation with the college boys, suddenly appeared from their hiding places behind the other cars.

"What the...? she said.

"Hey, Fox," said one of the young men.

"GIve us all a taste of your foxiness," said another of them.

They grabbed her and shoved her against her car. She tried to use Nigrovum to get them off her, but she was too tired to focus her thoughts.

***************

Back at home, Eros sensed his mother was in danger. He closed his eyes and concentrated, psychically scanning all of Montreal, but starting with the university campus, since he correctly assumed she was still there. Within seconds, he pinpointed her location in the parking lot, and he could feel her fear and sense the boys attacking her. Then he visualized himself already in that parking lot with his mother and those men.

***************

With the teleportation ability he'd acquired from Nigrovum's power, he disappeared and reappeared by her car in a puff of smoke. 

"What the fuck?!" the first man shouted.

"Who the fuck are you?" the third man said.

Eros closed his eyes and visualized all three boys being thrown off his mother and knocking against other cars surrounding them. A second later, each boy felt an invisible fist punch him so hard that they all flew in the air, the first at ten o'clock from Camilla, the second at twelve o'clock from her, and the third at two o'clock. Indeed, they all landed hard against cars, about ten yards away from Camilla, smashing against windshields and being knocked unconscious. 

"My son, my hero," she said, hugging him tightly. Then she felt something strange and disturbing in him: her own lust-energy! Has he eaten my come recently? she wondered. It sure seems that way. 

Sensing that she'd felt her energy in his body, Eros knew he had to think fast. "C'mon, Mom," he said, pulling away from her and opening her car door for her. "Let's get in the car and drive away fast, before those punks come to."

They quickly got in the car and she drove them out of the parking lot. As she continued driving out of the campus and towards their home, her suspicions grew as she vaguely began to sense the energy of a foreign substance that had been in her body from a few days before. Did I have the date rape drug in me? she thought. Is that why I've been so tired lately?

Eros felt her suspicions, and quickly concluded that he couldn't use Rohypnol on her anymore. He tried to keep his mind completely blank, for he sensed that she was trying to scan his mind, though she was too tired to concentrate properly. 

His only reason for having used Rohypnol on her before, instead of controlling her mind exclusively with Nigrovum, was that he was worried that she'd know he was psychically manipulating her. By diversifying her sources of fatigue, he was hoping she'd be too confused to figure out that he was every source. Now he'd have to use only Nigrovum, because she'd know by prediction that her next bourbon was drugged. In any case, he was eventually going to reveal his love to her, in carefully planned stages; therefore, it was just as well that he started with this night.

She drove them onto their driveway, and they got out of the car--Eros most awkwardly because of his gargantuan size. As they walked from the car to the front door of their house, he looked at her and asked, "Will you be OK, Mom? That must have been quite a fright for you."

"I'll be OK, baby," she said, yawning. "I have bigger worries than those boys." He knew exactly what she was implying by that. They went into the house.

She went to fix herself a bourbon while he went upstairs to his bedroom. He sat on his bed, closed his eyes, and started meditating, focusing on her fatigue. He ever so slightly, slowly expanded those psychic waves in her that made her sleepy, gradually making her sleepier. He did this with the utmost care, as to make her increased fatigue feel natural and not caused by his power. 

Camilla took her drink into the living room and sat in her chair, yawning again. She sipped her drink and set it on the table by her chair. Her head and her hands soon became too heavy to pick up the remote control and turn on the TV, let alone watch it. A few seconds later, she fell asleep.

Then Eros came downstairs and into the living room, after having changed his appearance into that of Joey, the young man Camilla had met in Club Ritz in Toronto eighteen years before, just after she'd given birth to Eros. Taking advantage of her fatigue, and therefore, her inability to counter his psychic powers, Eros used Nigrovum to wake her up and make her think she was in the burning mansion of her old dreams.

"Joey?" she said, rubbing her eyes and assuming Joey's ghost was visiting her in her dreams. "Now you want sex with me, right?"

"Yes, Goddess," Eros said in Joey's voice. "Can I touch you where your baby was, when you were pregnant"

"Oh, yeah," she moaned, getting up and unbuttoning her dress shirt. "When I met you, I was giving you lap-dances shortly after I'd given birth to Eros."

"Yes," he sighed, getting closer to her. "You said you were a 'yummy mummy', remember?"

"Yeah, that's right." She removed her shirt, revealing a white bra. "You're not mad at me about dying from the Nigrovum either, eh?"

"Not at all."

Though she was glad to hear this, she couldn't understand why the ghosts, hitherto always blaming her for their Nigrovum-induced deaths, now all of a sudden were no longer mad at her. In the back of her mind, she suspected Eros was meddling with her thoughts; but her exhaustion made it impossible to use her psychic powers to scan him. So she decided simply to go with the flow, and continued undressing.

She pulled down her pants as he pulled down his. As he took off his shirt, he smiled at the sight of his mother taking off her bra and revealing her large breasts. Next came off their shoes, socks, and underwear. They stood naked before each other, admiring each other's bodies.

"Can I touch you now?" he asked timidly.

"Of course, Joey," she said.

Eros touched his mother's belly, gently moving his fingers all over the area where the real Joey had touched eighteen years before. Eros could feel not only Joey's energy, but also his own, as an embryo inside.

Wow, he thought. I was once housed in that beautiful shrine. I can't stop being amazed at that fact, at the reality of my mother's divinity. I love her so much. 

He lay on his back on the living room carpet, and she got on top of him in the cowgirl position. He aimed his hard cock up at her descending pussy. She fed it in slowly, and they began fucking.

"Back when...I was...lap-dancing you," Camilla said in sighs as her son's cock was pleasuring her, "You said...you were...a student. Oh!"

"Yeah," he moaned, poking his knob against her A-spot. "Soon to start...my first...year business...in college. All that...pressure to...study. Ah!"

"Parents pushing...you too hard? Ah!" His psychic abilities had made him extremely sensitive to how his mother liked cock to move in and out of her; with this knowledge, he pushed in and out in perfect imitation of her best lovers. He also used Nigrovum to adjust the length of 'Joey's' cock to make it the exact size that would please her best. Screaming in ecstasy, she soon came all over his cock, balls, and thighs. 

"Yeah, my parents...sure did...pressure me...too much...unh!" he grunted, still imitating Joey. Then, wondering about some of his mother's other skills, he said, "A blow job...or two...would've helped...me study much better. Oh!"

"You want...a blow job, baby?" she asked while still bouncing on his cock. "Oh!"

"Have I been...a good boy?" he asked. "I saved you...from the rapists, remember?"

"You did?" she asked, not remembering Joey having had anything to do with that. "Ah!"

Realizing that his excitement had made him temporarily forget that it was he as Eros who saved her, not Joey, Eros had to think fast. Since she was supposed to be having a non-rational dream, he figured he could get away with making her think it had been Joey that saved her. "Yeah, don't you...remember? Those guys...tried to...rape you...in the parking lot, and I came...from my business class, and saved you. Remember? Oh!"

"Oh, yeah, OK," she moaned. "Your mama...never gave you...the help...you needed...to study better, so I'll be...the mama...you never had. Don't worry, baby, Mommy will...blow you now. Oh!" She came again, drenching his groin.

She got up, tingling and squealing at the sensation of Eros' cock tickling her wet vaginal walls as it came out. Then she knelt between his legs, bent her head over his cock and took it in her mouth. As it went in and out of her salivating mouth, she looked up lovingly in 'Joey's' eyes, as if he were her son.

If only she'd known, she might not have been so enthusiastic about it.

Eros looked down at his mother, as awed by her skill at cock-sucking as he was with the diligent care she showed in getting him off. More and more, he could understand why all the men were hot for her. He just kept on hoping he could be sufficient as a lover for her not to want anyone else. 

Her lips and tongue slid up and down his shaft, stimulating his bulging corpus spongiosum. She had his balls in her hand, gently shaking them. Then she took his cock out of her mouth and put his balls in. With his scrotum in her mouth, she flickered her tongue to make his balls shake in a frantic dance. 

Then she took his balls out of her mouth and took his cock back in, all the way. His pubic hair tickled her face as she deep-throated him. After pulling her head back to have his cock half-way in her mouth, and tickling the underside of his cock with her tongue for several seconds, she felt him coming in her mouth; she swallowed every last drop. He was nothing less than amazed by her talent at giving head. Instead of thinking of his mother as a whore, he thought of her as just that much more of a goddess.

Exhausted beyond all ability to stay awake, she collapsed on the living room carpet and lost consciousness. 

He scooped up all her come off his groin area and ate it. After that, he got up and went to the bathroom to clean off the rest of her come in the shower. When he was finished there, he changed back to his original towering form, went back to the living room, picked her up and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. After putting her in bed, he went to bed himself.

As he lay in bed and drifted of to sleep, he thought, I'm your best lover yet, Mom. Pretty soon, you'll have to admit it.

**************

The Camilla of two months later, unconscious while ghosts were gang-banging her passive body in the aquarium, could only think about how those nights with Eros had been her most horrific sexual experiences yet; for indeed, they had given her her greatest pleasure. 



Camilla Ch. 111



Continuing with her reliving of her unwitting incest with her son, unconscious Camilla was re-experiencing the morning after her third sexual encounter with Eros. She got out of bed and put on a bathrobe to cover her nakedness.

"This is the third time I've found myself naked in bed, but I don't remember undressing and coming up here," she said as she left her bedroom. Naturally, she suspected, but couldn't prove, Eros' acting out of his desires for her.

Hearing him eating breakfast in the kitchen, she slowly went downstairs, scanning his mind for thoughts about sex with her from the night before. She found no such thoughts, nor did she sense him blocking her scanning with his own psychic abilities.

Of course, his skill with Nigrovum was already so advanced that he could easily trick her into believing he was innocent. Also, she simply wanted to believe he was.

"Good morning, sweetie," she said as she walked into the kitchen. She yawned.

"Good morning, Mom," Eros said, shovelling a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. "Did you sleep well?"

"Baby, don't talk with your mouth full," she said. "And yes, I did sleep well...a little too well."

"Oh?" he asked, pretending not to know anything about the night before.

"Yeah, I dreamed about making love with Joey, a boy I lap-danced...oh, I shouldn't be talking about that with you."

"Why not?"

"You're too sweet and innocent to hear that kind of talk," she said, closely noting what his reaction would be.

"I'm not that innocent," he said, more than slightly annoyed, but careful not to think about any of the sex he'd had with her, for he knew that's what she was psychically scanning for.

Sensing no guilt in his thoughts, she said, "No one's an angel, but you're pretty close." Relieved to have found nothing implicating him, she kissed him on the cheek. Then she felt, ever so slightly, her lust-energy in him again. He'd allowed that, but nothing else. "Why is it every time I kiss you, baby, I psychically feel my desires?"

"Well, as your son, I am part you, and therefore, part your desire."

"Yeah, but it feels stronger now." Her suspicions were coming back.

"How much stronger?" he asked, finishing his cereal.

"Well, a bit."

"Then what's the big deal? A little stronger one day, a little weaker the next. Maybe it's stronger because you need a lover."

"Eros, nice boys don't say things like that to their Mommies."

"Mom, I'm a man, not a baby." He stood up.

"Maybe I need a lover? Maybe I've been having one." She looked up in his eyes, scanning again. She felt nothing. Either he's innocent, or far better with Nigrovum than I am, she thought. Well, innocent until proven guilty. I sure don't want to believe he's been fucking me. She walked out of the kitchen.

***************

Three days after that one, she'd been working like a dog teaching those summer classes in McGill University. It was now Tuesday, during the first week of August.

That night, she came home exhausted again. Instead of fixing herself a drink, this time she went upstairs and straight to bed.

Maybe Eros has been using Nigrovum to expand the alcohol I've drunk, making me too intoxicated to resist his advances--assuming he's been making advances, she thought as she got undressed. I'm sober now, so I should be more able to stop him, if he's doing what I think he is.

Naked, she got in bed and quickly fell asleep, her exhaustion overpowering her worry's ability to keep her alert.

Eros, also naked, had been sitting on his bed meditating. He visualized her dreaming about the burning mansion. Two minutes later, he got up, left his bedroom and went into hers. He used Nigrovum to make her open her eyes, but still see the dream.

Indeed, when Camilla looked around, she saw the burning walls of a large room in the mansion on Grouse Mountain, as well as all her former lovers surrounding her. Not one of them had a look of hate in his eyes, though; nor did she see any masked men, for Eros naturally didn't want his mother to feel afraid as he made love with her.

As for Eros, he'd made himself look like Chris, the boy who ate Camilla's ass in her English class from seventeen years before, during a lecture on Chaucer.

"Oh, hi Chris," she said, sensing no hostility in him, as had fortunately been the case with her old lovers' ghosts recently. "Wanna lick my ass again?"

"Yes, Goddess," Eros said in Chris's voice, then got on the bed.

She pulled the blankets away, exposing her beautiful naked body to his eyes, which were aglow with excitement. Then she rolled over to get on all fours, spread her legs, and pushed her butt back so he could see her asshole and pussy. He got behind her and let his tongue slide up from her perineum to the top of her butt-crack.

As he licked her asshole, he thought, You're all clean now, but I'd lick you even if it all tasted like shit. I want to show you just how much I love you, Mama. I'd endure anything for you; I'll endure the masked men for you one day...you'll see.

He kept rolling his tongue against the wrinkles of her asshole, worshipping every inch of the goddess that was his mother, even the dirtier parts. Then he moved his head down and began eating her pussy.

He wrapped his lips tightly around her swollen left labium and gently pulled on it. She moaned softly at his already expert touch. Then he sucked on the right labium. He slid his tongue inside her vagina and vibrated it quickly, panting heavily, since this was his favourite part of her body, his uncanny sight of origins. His panting massaged her vaginal walls and got her even more excited. He gluttonously drank up the moisture she was dripping in his mouth.

He moved his head down a bit and began sucking on her hard clitoris. Her moans had changed to squeals. As he sucked on and licked her clit, he gently slid his finger in her asshole. Sensing that she was about to come, he opened his mouth wide, sealing her vaginal opening with his kissing lips. She gushed her plentiful orgasm in his mouth, and he swallowed it all, not missing a single drop.

After that, she lay on her back and he got on top of her, careful not to put all of his weight on her, and putting his hard cock between her tits. He wrapped them tightly around his cock, and began sliding it back and forth between them. He looked down in her eyes, wishing she could have been ready to see his eyes instead of Chris's, so she could know the full depth of his love for her.

He loved the feeling of his mother's soft breasts caressing his cock as he moved it up and down. Oh, those breasts, which had nursed him as a baby, now pleasuring his cock. Not wanting to come on her face, as he felt it would have been degrading for her, he let go of her breasts and after a few more minutes of tit-fucking. Then he went down and slid his cock inside her soaking wet pussy. She sighed and squealed as it went in.

As he fucked her missionary style, he cupped her breasts in his hands and gently squeezed them, pinching the nipples. He brought his head close to her face and gave her cheeks and lips soft kisses.

"I...love you," he panted. "Oh!"

"I'm sorry...I made you...dress like a girl, Chris," she moaned. "Ah!"

"I'm not...mad about that," Eros said, sighing in Chris's voice. "Unh!"

"Still," she sighed. "it was wrong. Oh!" He felt unusually big and heavy on top of her, notably more so than Chris ever had; indeed, her lover felt more like Eros' mass. He'd intended her to feel that, making her only see and hear him as Chris, to get her closer to accepting him as Eros, the lover he hoped he would be from then on. Though her reawakened suspicions were troubling to her, she was too disoriented and tired to scan for Eros' psychic presence.

The feeling of her wet vagina tightly hugging his cock was as thrilling for him as it was to contemplate the pleasure he was giving her. He didn't want her to come all over her sheets, though, because cleaning them would have been more difficult for him, as she was lying on them. So before she could come again, he came inside her, then pulled his cock out, got off the bed, and left her bedroom to go back into his. He, no longer looking or sounding like Chris, got in bed, psychically released her from her 'dream', and soon fell asleep, happy to have more of her come, and therefore more of her, inside his body.

She pulled her blankets over herself after 'waking up', and as she slowly fell asleep again, she could feel the energy of 'Chris' all over herself...or was it the energy of Eros? She wasn't sure, and was too tired to pursue an answer to that question.

The Camilla of two months later, still unconscious and dreaming all these shocking memories, had no idea what she could do with this psychic energy her son had given her, though she knew he also had her psychic energy in him. For fighting off the masked men, what use would he have with her psychic vibes, and what use would she have with his? Maybe this exchange was nothing; then again, maybe it was everything...



Camilla Ch. 112



Camilla briefly woke from her unconscious memory visions, only to feel the spirits of Russell, Chris, and Joey gang-banging her in the public aquarium. She could also feel their hate, which only made Eros' misleading imitations of them--as forgiving her for causing their deaths--all the more bitter to contemplate.

The harshness of that reality made her decide, however reluctantly, to fall back into unconsciousness. Now she would have an out-of-body memory vision from almost two months before, of the day that had come three days after her fourth unwitting sexual encounter with her son Eros. In her memory vision, Camilla was in her office in the afternoon with a pile of essays to grade. She was getting increasingly suspicious that her son had been using Nigrovum's powers to deceive her, making her think she was being visited by incubi in her dreams, when really he was fucking her. She also suspected he was taking advantage of her fatigue, which was making it impossible for her focus and stop him with her own psychic powers; so after staring at those essay papers a few seconds longer, she closed her eyes and visualized herself full of energy for the rest of the day, all the way up until midnight, when Eros should have already been in bed. She also blocked him from knowing of her energy surge, so he wouldn't thwart her plan to watch him more carefully that night.

She began reading and grading those essays all energetically, but the concentration needed for her work made her totally oblivious as to what other psychic activities might have been going on. The masked men, eager to have Eros shame his mother again, sent him a mental signal that his mom would be too awake to be fooled by his psychic tricks.

Eros was at home the whole day. Though he, aware of the masked men's schemes, didn't like their intervening in his affairs, he had grown so addicted to enjoying his mother's charms that he was almost grateful to the masked men for telling him of her precautions. I don't like those awful men, he thought; but I've just got to have her body again.

He sat on his bed and closed his eyes. First he broke through the psychic barrier she'd put up to block him; this was done quickly and easily. Then he focused on the psychic waves she'd manipulated to give her body lots of energy, and he slowly, hour by hour, changed them into waves of heavy enervation. By the time she'd gotten home late that night, she was exhausted as usual. He was in the living room.

"Hi Mom," Eros said as she walked into the living room and dropped her suitcase of essays on the coffee table.

"Hi sweetie," she said, yawning. She turned on the TV and changed the channel to CBC's The National. "Why am I so tired? I should be full of pep right now."

"The masked men fuckin' with you again?" he asked.

"Baby, nice boys don't say bad words," she gently chided.

"Sorry."

"Anyway, I can't see how it's the masked men. I blocked them very well several months back. They haven't been able to touch me, I don't think. Could it be you who's making me so tired?" She looked hard into his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Mom. Let's not start that again. I respect you way too much to trick you. Besides, if I'm the one making you tired every time you get home from the university, you wouldn't be able to do your job. That'd risk getting you fired. I wouldn't want that."

She sensed no dishonesty in his words, for he was so good with Nigrovum that he could make his lies seem like the truth. She said, "Well, I guess you're telling me the truth." She sat down, and he went upstairs. I certainly want to believe he's telling me the truth, she thought.

On the TV, Mr. Pierce was debating with a member of the Green Party again. The host was sympathetic with the Greens, as usual.

"There's another interesting thing I've noticed in recent years," Pierce said. "Ever since the Greens came to power, there's been an increasing number of bizarre incidents of people eating faeces and drinking urine, often that of prostitutes. We hear about these incidents all the time now."

Both the host and the Green Party member started laughing out loud. "Oh, so that's our fault now, too, eh?" said the Green.

"I guess the increasing problem of obesity is also the Green Party's fault?" asked the host.

"We advocate a strictly vegetarian diet," the Green said. "We are on the record for vigorously opposing the fast food diet the masses sadly still overindulge in. We've even upped the taxes of that food to discourage people from eating it."

"Of course, of course," Pierce said. "Then you use your psychic gifts--the ones you suspect Muslims have--and manipulate the masses into eating more junk food. Then you get more revenue from those taxes."

"Your delusional paranoia is something else," the host said.

"When I see the media on the Greens' side, I don't think I'm being delusional at all," Pierce retorted.

"And why would we want people to eat shit and drink piss?" asked the sneering Green.

"To spread around more and more Nigrovum, of course," Pierce said.

"Oh, yes, Nigrovum again," said the Green. "Microscopic aliens that came to Earth and are passed around like an STD, giving people psychic powers. If we Greens have this mythical power, why make people eat excrement when we can just control their minds?"

"To humiliate the people," Pierce said, scowling. "And your powers work better when Nigrovum's in the masses' blood, full of the energy of humiliating paraphilias, which make the people your slaves."

The Green and the host laughed again. Camilla turned off the TV. "Poor Mr. Pierce," she whispered to herself. "As crazy as Dr. Singh." She went upstairs to her bedroom, took off all her clothes, and got in bed. In a few minutes, she was fast asleep.

Eros, also naked, was sitting on his bed and meditating. Scanning his mother's mind and going into her memories, he found Russell, the shy Australian boy she and Mercedes fucked during their vacation in Bali. Eros used Nigrovum's shape-shifting abilities to make him look and sound exactly like Russell. Then Eros visualized Camilla dreaming about the burning mansion, herself in a large room alone with Russell.

Eros got up, left his bedroom and walked into hers. He made her open her eyes, but still see and hear her dream. She looked around and saw the walls of the large room in that old burning mansion. Then she saw 'Russell'.

"Russell, baby?" she said, rubbing her eyes. "You died?"

"Yes, I did," Eros said in Russell's Australian accent.

"And you're not mad at me?" she asked, pulling the blankets aside and revealing her beautiful naked body. Indeed, Eros could never stop marvelling at how his mother, actually 37 years old, looked no older than 25, thanks to Nigrovum. "Not mad that I passed Nigrovum on to you and killed you?"

"No," he said. "You helped me see the light. I became a successful banker, and I supported the Green Party in Australia, the only good thing in politics these days. And it was all because of your psychic influences. For my support of the Green Party, they helped me become a very rich man; I thank you for that. As for my death, well, I guess that couldn't be helped. Better dead from sex with you than killed by a Muslim terrorist, as my uncle was back when the Bali bombing happened."

"Well, that's very sweet of you to be so understanding, baby," Camilla said, getting up. "Still, it's my fault that you died, and I wanna make it up to you. What do you wanna do?"

"Watch you pee again?" he asked.

"Sure, sweetie. Come with me." She took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom. She, smiling as she looked up at him, sat on the toilet and began peeing, spreading her legs out wide so he could see. He stood before her, watching the piss pour down into the toilet water. She put her hand on her black-haired mound of Venus, pulling it up a bit so he could better see her piss coming out of her urethra. She finished pissing and reached for the toilet paper.

"Oh, can I do that for you?"

"Sure, baby," she said, and let him tear off some toilet paper. He squatted and wiped the remaining few drops of piss off her pussy, and she stood up, her pubic hair brushing against his happy face. He eagerly sniffed away at the stink from between her legs. "Let's shower together."

"Oh, OK." They got in the shower stall, and she turned on the water. He picked up the soap and started building a lather in his hands; then she took the soap from him and began lathering up her hands, too. They gently kissed as they wiped the lather on each other's bodies. She soaped up his hard-on and balls, careful not to make him come. Then she cleaned his buttocks and asshole, slipping her finger deep inside and stimulating his prostate.

Eros, always worshipping his mother's divine body, kissed her softly on the lips as he got the lather all over her body from the shoulders down. After he soaped up and rinsed off her breasts, he bent down and sucked on her right nipple, then her left. As he sucked them, he got the lather on her belly and pubic hair, then rinsed them off. After that, he soaped up her pussy and asshole, slipping his sudsy finger deep inside both holes; Camilla softly moaned at his sensitive, expert touch. Finally, he cleaned her buttocks, legs, and feet, kissing her belly as he did so.

After they finished rinsing each other off, they held each other and French-kissed, moving their hands up and down each other's backs and squeezing each other's buttocks. After a minute or so of that, they got out of the shower, dried each other off, and returned to the bedroom.

He lay on her bed on his back.

"What now, sweetie?" she asked.

"Sit on my face, please?" he asked, still in a perfect imitation of Russell's voice.

"OK," she said, and got on the bed, lowering her ass on Eros' face. He enthusiastically kissed and licked her pussy and asshole, sliding his tongue deep inside both freshly-cleaned holes. She moaned and sighed her thanks, then leaned forward and played with his cock. After that, she brought her head down to suck it. Mother and son were now in a sixty-nine.

His tongue flickered all over the genitals that had given him life, and her saliva-covered lips embraced the cock she'd created eighteen years before in her womb. He sucked on her hard clitoris, making it buzz with excitement. She took his cock all the way inside her mouth, wrapping her wet upper lips tightly around his protruding corpus spongiosum. Her fingers tickled his scrotum and gently shook his balls. After licking her asshole some more, he plunged his tongue deep inside her cunt and tickled her G-spot with it. She screamed and came in his wide-open mouth. He ate all her cooze, not missing a drop.

Then she got up, turned around, and sat on his still-hard cock, in the cowgirl position. She fed it in slowly, squealing as it went in deeper and deeper. When it had gotten all the way in and poked her A-spot a few times, she screamed and flooded come all over his lap.

Oh, well, he thought as she started bouncing up and down on his cock, Mom's gonna wake up tomorrow with her come all over her sheets. When she asks at breakfast, I'll just tell her the incubi must have fucked her again in her sleep.

Indeed, she was still convinced that she wasn't fucking her son, but instead fucking Russell's incubus in her dreams, for Eros had psychically created an illusion of the burning mansion of her dreams, completely faithful to how she'd dreamt about it before he was born.

As he pumped his cock in and out of his mother's soaking wet pussy, he reached up and held her breasts, gently squeezing them. Then she bent down a bit, and he raised his back up a bit so he could put her left nipple in his mouth. As he sucked, she lactated and he drank her milk; the sensation of his lips on her tit got her even more excited, and she soon screamed and came a third time, soaking her bedsheets with more of her come.

"Wanna fuck...my ass, baby?" she asked in sighs. "Ah!"

"Oh, yes, Ma--I mean, Camilla," he moaned. "Oh!"

"You can...call me...Mommy if...you want to." She got up, getting his cock out of her pussy.

"Really?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, panting and getting on all fours and pointing her ass at him so he could see her pretty asshole. "I let all...my boy lovers...call me Mommy, because I like...to think I am...a second mother to them."

"Thanks, Mama," he said, getting behind her. He smeared her asshole with some of the come on the sheets, then slid his cock inside slowly. "Unh!"

With a wide-open mouth, she moaned softly as she felt his entering cock stretching her anal lips out wide, then massaging her rectal walls and stimulating the neighbouring vaginal wall. As he moved his cock in and out of her ass, he reached forward and put his hands on her tits, cupping and caressing them. His face was buried in her black hair, gleefully sniffing its fragrant smell. He was still undecided as to which hole he preferred: her asshole for its tightness, or her vagina, since it was the holy sight of his origins. He resolved to worship both with all his heart, not concerned as to which was actually better.

Finally, he came, and pulled his cock out of her ass.

"Do you want any more?" she asked, looking back at him.

"What do you suggest?" he asked.

"I gotta pee again," she said, getting off the bed. "Wanna watch me on the toilet again?"

"How about giving me a golden shower?" he suggested. "I'd love to have your divine pee all over my body."

"OK." They went back into the bathroom. He got in the shower stall and lay on his back in the tub. She got in and squatted over his chest. She sprayed out a particularly plentiful amount of golden juice on him, moving down first to spray it on his dick, then up to soak his neck and face. He smiled as he felt it splashing all over his mouth and nose. When she was just about done, she squirted out a few remaining drops, then straightened up and got out of the shower stall. She wiped her pussy dry with some toilet paper, flushed it down the toilet, then left the bathroom, saying, "I'm tired. I want to 'sleep out' the rest of the dream, OK?"

"OK," he said. He listened to her walk back into her bedroom and close the door. Convinced that he'd successfully tricked his mother a fifth time, Eros used his psychic powers to make her fall asleep as soon as she'd got in bed and pulled the blankets over herself, ignoring the come-stained sheets. He lay there still, in the tub on his back, enjoying the piquant sensation of her piss caressing his skin and sinking into his pores. As he felt her Nigrovum pass into his blood, he thought, Yes, let me have more and more of my lovely mother inside me. That Pierre on the TV may think that piss is poison, but I say that it's healthy, as long as it's my divine mother's. Let us be one, Mama, indivisible: then I can find a way to save you from the masked men and their Green Party.

After a few more minutes of letting the Nigrovum pass into his body, he got up and washed her piss off himself. Then he got out of the shower, dried himself off, changed his body back to its original towering form, and went to bed.

****************

The next morning, Camilla got up, shocked and disturbed to have her come all over herself and her bedsheets. She changed them, took a shower, and got dressed. Then she went downstairs and into the kitchen, where she saw Eros eating some cereal.

"Good morning, Mom," he said, his mind carefully left blank so she wouldn't sense any guilt feelings from the night before.

"Morning, sweetie," she said, looking at him with renewed suspicion in spite of sensing nothing bad in his thoughts. "When I woke up, I was all...I mean, my blankets were all..."

"Did the incubi have their way with you again?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess so, it seems that way," she said, still eyeing him carefully and scanning his mind. "I certainly hope it was just incubi, for your sake as well as mine."

"Mom, why do you always blame me for your dreams?"

"Because I don't dream anymore," she said. "At least I haven't until recently."

"Mom, you know yourself that your psychic barriers don't last forever. Surely the one for your dreams was going to break some time; now is simply when it finally happened."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

*****************

The Camilla of almost two months later woke up from this memory vision; she was being gang-banged by the ghosts of Danny, Brian, and Lisa, her old high school classmate, the one who saw her in the public toilet the night of her gang-bang with her old teachers. Wanting to experience neither the ghost gang-bangs nor her memories of incest with Eros, Camilla wondered, How, Eros, are you gonna save me from the masked men? I've sensed for a long time that you have a plan; what is it? Please let me know soon, so I don't have to relive any more of this shameful incest with you.

The spirits of Agape and Don were about to tell her, when she went unconscious again, bracing herself for a reliving of her next sexual encounter with her son.



Camilla Ch. 113



Four days after Camilla's fifth unwilling night of incest with Eros, she was in her office in McGill University in the afternoon, with more homework to mark. It was the second week of August, and she was shaking with worry about the idea that her son could have been using his psychic powers to trick her into having sex with him, while making her think she was fucking incubi in her dreams.

Did he cancel out the energy surge I gave myself last Friday? she wondered. Or did the masked men cancel it out? I blocked all of them, and Eros: am I being drained of my own psychic powers? Are they no longer effective? She decided to try putting up even stronger psychic barriers against Eros and the masked men: she visualized a kind of 'Trojan wall' surrounding her, and Eros and the masked men she imagined as 'Greek warriors' futilely trying to break through. After five minutes of concentrating on that, and reasonably assured that the barrier would be secure against all possible sexual predators, Camilla then visualized a huge surge of energy that would be ready to come out that night, around when Eros would presumably be fucking her.

As she was doing this, the masked men were monitoring her efforts, and laughing at how ultimately useless they were.

At home, Eros, too, was aware of what she was trying to do. Sitting on his bed, he began meditating, thinking of a way to have her that night, in a way that would trick her into thinking she was fucking incubi in her sleep, yet also one that would bring her closer to knowing--and, he hoped--accepting that it had been him fucking her all along.

Indeed, while he knew he couldn't keep up the pretence of incubi fucking her much longer, his craving for his mother's beautiful body was now so strong that he felt he would have to have her more often than just twice a week.

Please, Mama, he thought, accept me as your lover. Your every breath excites me. More and more, I want to be touching you and kissing you, forever and ever and ever.

Knowing that cutting through her barrier and draining her energy would only make her more suspicious, he decided instead to focus on how he could manipulate things for her in her classes that day. He psychically prompted her students to overwhelm her with questions, and while she was thus distracted, he visualized a 'Trojan horse' being 'welcomed through a door' to her psychic barrier.

Now inside her mental space, with no hole in the barrier that could cause any further suspicion in her, he moved her energy surge to thirty minutes after when she'd set it, giving him more time to enjoy her that night.

She got home late that night, exhausted as usual and ready for bed. Sensing no rupture of her psychic barrier, she naturally assumed neither Eros nor the masked men had tampered with her energy surge, and she was too tired to monitor it and discover that it had been delayed.

Eros was in the bathroom, and she, nonetheless still suspicious of him, went into his bedroom to look around. She went to his computer, moved the mouse to make the screen light up, and saw the home page of a social networking website. Then she looked down at the bottom of the screen, where other opened windows could be clicked on. She saw a window to her old porn website. She shuddered.

The Camilla of early October, reliving this memory while incubi were gang-banging her unconscious naked body in the public aquarium, was less disturbed by this memory as she was by the fact that she had realized, in the re-experiencing of an earlier memory with her now expanded psychic awareness, that her son had begun enjoying her porn website two years before, and possibly even earlier than that. As painful as all of this was, though, she knew she had to go on reliving all of this in order to learn of a possible way to defeat the masked men.

Eros came into his room. "Mom?" he said, worried that she may have known about him looking at her old porn. "What are doing in here? Can't I have any privacy? This is my room!"

"It's your room," she said, "but my house, and nice boys don't snap at their mothers."

"Sorry," he said, frowning. Then she left his room.

She went into her room, worrying about what she'd just seen on his computer monitor so much that she figured she wouldn't sleep at all that night.

Well, at least I'll be awake enough to know if he's trying to seduce me, she thought. Maybe I didn't need that energy surge after all.

She kicked off her black high heels, unzipped her tight black dress at the back and pulled it down to her legs, letting it fall to her feet. Then she pulled her dark pantyhose and pink panties down to her ankles, and pulled her feet out of the leg-holes. Braless, she was now naked. She got in bed, pulled the sheets over herself, and closed her eyes, assuming she'd be too agitated to sleep.

In her worried distraction, she didn't know--as Eros hadn't--that the masked men had mentally travelled in his 'Trojan horse' to get inside her psychic barrier that afternoon, too. Taking advantage of her distraction, they visualized a black void where her worried thoughts about Eros were in her mind. No longer thinking about her wayward son, and too exhausted to wonder why she suddenly seemed to have forgotten about what she'd seen on his computer screen, she soon fell fast asleep.

Eros, now also naked, sensed her having fallen asleep, and sat on his bed, meditating. This time he used the shape-shifting powers he'd acquired from Nigrovum to take on the form of Cameron; and though he hated his late stepfather, he wanted to see what emotions he'd arouse from his mother. After all, Cameron was a man, not a boy, and Eros was tired of hearing his mother call him 'baby' when they made love. He craved to have his mother regard him as a man, not the little Mama's boy that she always treated him like, almost as much as he craved her delicious body. Besides, he knew he could use Cameron's Candaulism to his psychic advantage, as part of his plan to reveal his true self to her, however gradually.

After a few seconds of concentrating, Eros had used Nigrovum to change his body into an exact copy of Cameron's. Then he left his room and went into hers. As another part of his plan to bring things closer to reality for her, he chose not to make her think she was dreaming about being in the burning mansion outside of Vancouver. In this 'dream', she would simply see her own bedroom there in Montreal. He used his psychic powers to make her slowly open her eyes while making her believe she was still dreaming.

"Cameron?" she said, sitting up in bed and sadly looking at her late 'husband', who stood at the open door, with the light from the hall illuminating him. "Oh, I've missed you. I didn't mean to hurt you the way I did, cheating so much."

"I know, Ma--I mean, Camilla," Eros said, wincing slightly at his perfect imitation of the sound of this hated stepfather's voice. "You couldn't help yourself."

"You're just so sensitive," she said, choking back sobs at the contemplation of her guilt. "Your self-esteem was so low, and I just made it lower." She began to cry.

Pained at the sight of his beautiful mother's sobbing, Eros said, "Oh, please don't cry. I forgive you, completely. Let's make love, like old times."

"Yes," she said, wiping away her tears, pulling away the blankets and revealing her lovely nakedness to him. "Let me make it up to you." He closed the door, got on the bed and between her legs. "How's life in, you know, the other world?" She then looked around and was surprised to see no burning walls, like in her old dreams or in the afterlife, but merely her bedroom.

Before she could really take her unexpected surroundings all in, he drew near and kissed her hard on the lips. They opened their mouths and their tongues were entwined, sliding along each other's lengths. He put his arms around her, and she lay back down on the bed.

She raised her spread legs up to receive his hard cock, which he poked inside her already wet pussy. She squealed as it quickly went all the way in. He pulled his hands up from behind her, cupped her tits in his hands, and pinched her nipples as he began thrusting away inside her cunt. He used Nigrovum to adjust the length and thickness of his cock to make it exactly the size that pleased his mother the most. He pulled his head up and groaned as his cock continued sliding in and out, then she screamed and came within a mere thirty seconds of screwing.

She looked up in 'Cameron's' eyes and moaned with her mouth agape, her eyes expressing the pain she felt over her guilt. Having slept with so many men while married to the man whose ghost she now seemed to be fucking, she wanted her eyes to tell him that, in spite of the affairs she'd compulsively indulged in, she had always loved him.

Eros felt her love for Cameron, and his jealousy reawakened in an irritating jolt, making him regret having chosen his stepfather's form to fuck Camilla in. She was in pain over having made Cameron jealous, but she felt no remorse over making her own son jealous.

"Cameron, I...love you. Oh!" she screamed, coming again and soaking Eros' cock and balls.

Angry, he pulled his cock out. She felt hands grabbing her, turning her over so she was on all fours, and pulling her ass back to display her pretty asshole. She could then feel the smearing of her come on her anal orifice, the thorough lubing of her rectum with it, then the ramming of cock inside. But was this Eros?

"Ah!" she screamed as she felt the cock fill up her rectum and stretch out her anal lips. "Since when...do you...like anal now, all of...a sudden, honey? Oh!" She turned her head to look back at 'Cameron'. "You never...fucked my...ass before. What?" She didn't see 'Cameron' fucking her, though. Instead, a mysterious, large man, whose face was obscured in the dark, was behind her. She had only enough light to see that his larger body was definitely not Cameron's.

She looked to her right, and saw 'Cameron' sitting in a chair by her bedside table, watching her. "Here I am," said a psychically projected image of Cameron there. The psychic presence of several men was now suddenly apparent to Camilla. 

"But, who is...?" she asked in squeals. "It isn't..."

"It's just another incubus," Eros said, using Nigrovum to throw his voice's imitation of Cameron over to the projected image of him. Eros' location in the room wasn't clear, but his thrown voice definitely no longer grunted or panted, thanks to Nigrovum.

"I...can't see...his face," she grunted of her unknown ass-fucker. "Oh!"

"Who cares who he is?" 'Cameron' asked. "You know my proclivities, and you want to please me, don't you?"

"Yeah. Unh!" she grunted while feeling come spraying in her rectum.

"You know I like to watch you fuck other men. As long as I get to watch and tell you want I want you to do, I won't be jealous. Now, suck his dick." The mystery man pulled his cock out of her ass and used Nigrovum to get it hard again quickly. She turned around while he lay on his back.

She looked at 'Cameron', who was smiling, then looked up at the still-obscured face of the 'incubus' she was about to blow. Who is this? she wondered. I feel the energy of the masked men: is it one of them? Is it Eros? I don't feel his energy, at least I don't think it's his; maybe the masked men are trying to trick me into thinking it's my son. I would actually like to think that's all this is. Doing it only because she knew it would please her husband, she smiled at the mystery man and took his cock in her mouth.

As she was sliding her wet lips up and down his shaft, she suddenly felt that surge of energy. Now she had the strength to use her own psychic powers and find out what was really happening. Indeed, she definitely sensed the psychic presence of the masked men, somewhere, elusive, and--maybe--of Eros. Just as suddenly, a spotlight shone on the face of the mystery man--Camilla sensed this was the masked men's doing--and she saw her son! She spat his cock out and woke from her 'dream'.

She felt a puff of smoke all around her. (Having used Nigrovum's teleportation abilities in the nick of time, Eros had disappeared before she could catch him.) Shaking, Camilla was in a state of total confusion: it was as though she was still dreaming...or maybe she had never been dreaming, for nothing else that she saw was different from her 'dream'--just no Eros, no Cameron, and no 'mystery man', if there was a third lover. She was still on all fours, as she had been when she was giving the blow job.

I'm still like I was in the dream, she thought. Like when I was blowing...was that Eros? Oh, God, I hope not. Please, God, let that have been an incubus sent by the masked men to impersonate my son! I can feel the masked men's tampering. It was them: those bastards, it had to be them. Maybe they made me hallucinate seeing my porn website on his computer. Maybe it's been them from the beginning. Dear God, don't let it have been my sweet baby all along. I'm really going out of my mind. Then again, if it was my boy, I've got to know the truth, however painful it may be.

She jumped out of bed, threw on her bathrobe, and rushed out of her bedroom. She barged into Eros' room and turned on the light. He pretended to wake up. Happily for him, the puff of smoke from his quick teleportation had already vanished from around him.

"What is it, Mom?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"What have you been up to?" she demanded.

"Sleeping, of course," he said, sitting up. "Mom, you just dreamt about the incubi again, didn't you?"

"How would you know that if you were sleeping?"

"I can feel their psychic energy now. Can't you? It's the masked men again. It must be. Why are you so paranoid about me?"

"Because I blocked them," she insisted. "I don't see how it could have been them just now."

"But I can feel their energy, as you surely can. They cut through your barrier somehow. Mom, you're really going nuts, just like what your students say about you every day. The incubi are having sex with you in your dreams; it isn't me." 

"If I was dreaming, why didn't I see the burning mansion?"

"I don't know," Eros said gruffly, rolling over in hopes of ending this interrogation quickly. "The masked men are playing tricks on you again, but they've had their fun. Let's just go to sleep and try to forget about it."

"Alright, maybe it was them. Goodnight, sweetie." She closed his bedroom door and walked slowly toward the bathroom, all in a frightened confusion about what had really happened. Who should I believe? she wondered. Can I trust my son's version of what happened? Oh, I hope I can. Still, I must monitor him more carefully. She washed the come off herself, changed her sheets, then went back to bed. It took her all of three hours to get back to sleep.

Eros lay in bed contented. My psychic equivocations sure worked tonight, he mused. If I can make her think it's the masked men fucking with her mind, maybe she'll suspect me less. Throwing my voice and hiding my psychic energy are good tools that I'll have to use more often. This ambiguity as to where I am, or who I am, can come in handy in the future, in applications far beyond merely seducing my mother.

The masked men continued monitoring both mother and son, and laughed at Eros' overconfidence. We can thwart your equivocations so easily, boy, one of them thought. But very well: we'll leave you to delude yourself into thinking you can outsmart us.

******************

The Camilla of early October woke from this memory-vision, feeling the ghost-cock of Mr. Rudolph in her mouth, that of Mr. Matotek sliding between her tits, that of Dr. Lawson in her dripping wet pussy, and that of Mr. Patterson in her ass. All those people in the aquarium were still watching her, from below through the glass of the water tank, and those up on the ledge getting video on their cell-phones. Armand was still among them, watching helplessly, as all of his psychic efforts to stop this madness were still futile.

Oh, Eros, she thought. I have so much of your energy in me, I practically am you now. What can I do with your powers? You couldn't use them to stop the masked men back then; what is your plan to use them to help me now? Don't make me relive the next night of incest with you; it was the most painful of all. Again, she passed off into unconsciousness, however reluctantly. Anything to avoid the humiliation of her exposure in the aquarium.

Agape's and Don's spirits appeared as she drifted off.

Camilla! Agape called.

No, Dr. Singh cautioned him psychically from Vancouver. It would have been a mistake for you two to tell Camilla about Eros' plan last time, and it would still be a mistake now. We mustn't even contemplate it, for fear of the masked men's finding out, and thwarting Eros.

Yes, you're right, Don acknowledged in his thoughts. It's just that neither Agape nor I can bear to see Camilla suffer like this, just to find out for herself.

Still, we mustn't let on about the plan, Singh insisted. The defeat of the masked men all depends on the success of Eros' plan.



Camilla Ch. 114



Camilla began her re-experiencing of her next, and last, memory vision with the deepest dread.

Over the three days following Eros' sixth seduction of his mother, she would look on him with an uninterrupted stream of suspicious thoughts. In the afternoon of the third of those days, she sat in her McGill University office with her eyes closed. Teeming with her son's psychic energy, the energy he'd given her in his come from six nights of incest with her, she found herself able to use it in his own subtle way (though still clueless as to how to use it against the masked men). She meditated, visualizing herself able to monitor the upcoming night and everything he--or the masked men--might have been doing, while seeming fast asleep and totally unaware of whatever schemes there were against her.

That night, she went home exhausted as usual after a busy day. She went straight to her bedroom, got naked, and lay in bed. Within seconds, she fell asleep, though psychically still aware of any unwanted energy coming on her.

Eros knew what she was doing, and welcomed it. (The masked men knew, too, and elected not to interfere, for they were happy to allow what was soon to happen.) He decided that tonight was the night he'd reveal himself to her, though he would begin the lovemaking by assuming the form of her father, Agape. When she saw herself enjoying incest with him, the man she'd enjoyed so many times before, Eros figured it would be easier for her to accept incest with her son.

Meditating in his bedroom, naked Eros took on Agape's form within about twenty seconds. He left his room and went into hers. He made her open her eyes slowly and gently, so to make her think she was still dreaming, as he had done when he''d taken on Cameron's form. 

She looked around and saw her bedroom, then saw 'Agape' standing naked in the doorway, with the light of the hall illuminating him.

"Daddy?" she asked.

"Yes, sweetheart, it's me," Eros said in Agape's voice. He closed the door and went over to her bed. He got on it and between her spread-out legs.

"You finally want to have sex with me, Daddy?" she asked, momentarily too delighted at the prospect of making love with her willing father to think about the possibility of Eros or the masked men tricking her.

"Yes," Eros said, lifting her legs up and pushing his hard knob against her already wet vaginal orifice. He slid his cock in a few inches. "I can...accept your...love now. Unh! Life in...the other world...helps you...realize how...empty conventional...morality is. Oh!"

"Ah!" Camilla screamed when his knob poked against her tingling A-spot. After a few more pokes, she screamed in whistle register and came. "You don't...know how happy...this makes...me feel, Daddy. Oh!"

"I just...want to...make you...happy, baby. Unh!" He put his hands on her tits and squeezed them. She grabbed his ass. They reached close to each other and kissed as he continued fucking her.

It's a dream finally come true, she thought as she felt his cock pumping inside her, still too dazed by the thrill of it all to consider the idea that this was all a trick. Daddy's enjoying me; I'm finally pleasing him, if only his incubus. "Ah!" she screamed, coming all over his cock and balls. She closed her eyes, sighing as she she enjoyed 'Agape's' cock massaging her vaginal walls and tickling her G-spot. Then she finally came to her senses. This can't be Daddy. He'd never fuck me. All those times I'd scanned his mind, hoping to find incestuous feelings for me, I never once found the slightest inclination that way. I still vividly remember how frustrated I was back then. Why would he suddenly change his mind now? He grew more spiritual in the afterlife, not less. As much as I'd like to believe this really is Daddy, it can't be him.

Though she had to give up the fantasy that it was him, now she found herself desperately clinging to the hope that her lover was actually one of the masked men. She monitored her room for any unwelcome psychic energy. She sensed none of that of the masked men anywhere in the area.

Though the masked men's energy wasn't there, they were psychically monitoring her room from a house on the other side of town. They laughed from contemplating the shock she would feel in the next few seconds.

She looked up fearfully at the face of her lover, who now felt bigger and heavier, and she used Nigrovum to light up his face. Eros' sweating face looked down on her in that spotlight, shaking as he continued shoving his cock in and out of her wet pussy. It really was him: her son on top of her! No trick of the masked men, just Eros, tricking her into enjoying incest with him, tricking her into thinking she was enjoying her preferred form of incest with Agape. Him enjoying a guilty pleasure with her, while making her think she was enjoying a guilty pleasure of her own. 

"No, baby, no!" she cried as his cock kept pumping away inside her.

"Yes, Mama, it's me...please, accept me...as your lover. Oh!" He picked her up and held her as his cock slid in and out of her soaking wet cunt. She was screaming sobs now. 

They were fucking in the cowgirl position now. Too overwhelmed with shock to have the strength to stop him, Camilla just sadly acquiesced and let her son continue ramming his cock in and out of her. Tears were flooding her face. In spite of her horror, or perhaps because of it, she came again, soaking his lap.

He grabbed her buttocks and squeezed them, fingering her anus. Unable to look at him, she rested her head on his shoulder and kept sobbing. It's my fault, she thought; I brought this all on myself. I'm a bad mother. This is all my fault. I deserve this shame.

He came inside her, then pulled his cock out. As emotionally exhausted as she was physically, she allowed him to move down and begin sucking her left tit. He slid one finger inside her asshole, and another in her dripping wet cunt. As he sucked, she lactated, him gluttonously drinking as much of her milk as he could get out of her. Then he moved his mouth over to her other tit and sucked on it, again drawing all the milk he could through that nipple. He was ecstatic with the pleasure of having his mother--and her psychic energy--inside him. She also vaguely sensed that he was absorbing as much of her as he could for some other, mysterious reason. 

She sighed and ran her hands through his hair. Though she felt it was too late to mitigate her shame from having sex with her son, she realized another, newer shame: she was enjoying the sex! His cock, lips, tongue, and fingers were pleasuring her in a way none of her previous lovers had ever done before! The reason for this was obvious: he was the psychic amalgamation of most of her best lovers, and he knew how to manipulate her feelings to combine those lovers' abilities to give her the best fucks she'd ever had. As thrilling as the physical sensations were for her, though, she could only cry and cry.

He moved down, kissing his way from her breasts and belly to her pussy. Now he began sucking on her rock-hard clit, still sliding his fingers in and out of her pussy and asshole. After sucking on her clitoris for a minute or so, he wrapped his lips tightly around her swelling left labium and sucked on it. Then he sucked on the right one. He pulled his finger out of her asshole and began licking it, his eager tongue studying every pretty wrinkle. Then he slid his tongue as deep inside her cunt as he could, flickering it against her G-spot. He could feel her about to orgasm, pulled his tongue out, and opened his mouth. 

"Ah!" she screamed again, coming a deluge in his wide-open mouth. He greedily drank it all. 

Sensing her shame, he pulled away and avoided her eyes. He was as unable to talk to her as she was to talk to him, since shame had now replaced his lust. The best thing for both of us now is sleep, he thought. We'll worry about the consequences tomorrow. Knowing she wouldn't have been able to sleep by her own efforts, he used Nigrovum to make her fall asleep, which she did in a matter of seconds. He nodded off soon after, using Nigrovum to make his mind go blank and forget his worries about the next day. 

**************

The next morning, Camilla woke up in a pool of her come, seeing her son's large, naked body lying beside her. Oh, if only that could have been a nightmare in the normal sense of the word, she thought, then instantly began crying.

Eros woke up. "Mom, don't cry," he said. "I'm sterile; you won't get pregnant. Please don't cry."

"How can I not?" she said in loud sobs.

"What we did last night--"

"What you did with me last night," she corrected. "What you made me do with you. What you tricked me into doing--"

"It shouldn't be that shocking, Mom," he said, choking back sobs of his own. "You did it with your dad. You never told me about it, but I can feel it in your memories. Don't judge me, please."

"I'm judging myself. This was all my fault."

"Don't blame yourself. Last night was beautiful."

"It was horrifying!" she shouted.

"Oh, don't say that, Mom," he said, beginning to cry.

"Nice boys don't...do things like that...with their Mommies, Eros."

"I'm not a baby anymore, Mom! I'm a man! Why won't you acknowledge that? Last night, you could feel how much of a man I am."

"Mature men don't have Oedipus complexes!"

"Mom, I can't help it. I love you. I'm in love with you. Don't plug your ears! Listen to me! I've always been in love with you. You're beautiful body drives me wild; I can't help myself!"

"That's how it's all my fault. I should never have tarted myself up in front of you, wearing skin-tight dresses, high heels, and heavy makeup. I always saw the Oedipal longing in your eyes, but instead of discouraging you from thinking that way, I was flattered by it. My vanity is way out of control. This is all my fault. I thought never letting you see me undressed would be enough to curb your lust: it wasn't."

"Don't blame yourself. I love you because you're a beautiful human being. You gave me life. You're a goddess," he sobbed.

"I'm no goddess. I should have known when I created you in my womb that--"

"A miracle!"

"No! Not my miracle, just Nigrovum, a power you have much more of than I. When I created you, I should have known that I was using not only the energy of all my former lovers...I was also using their lust-energy...their lust for me. That's why this is all my fault. I'm no goddess, baby. I'm only human."

"That's what I love about you!" he insisted. "Your humanity! Your divine humanity! You're my link to people, Mom! All my life, I've been a freak: a hulking, giant half-alien with black fingernails and toenails, and with powers that alienate me from everyone. The kids at school either laughed at me or were afraid of me. I never had any friends, because I'm so different. But you, you connect me with humanity, and your love makes me feel like I belong here on Earth."

"Of course you belong here, sweetie. But we can't--"

"No, Mom, please. Don't reject me like everyone else. Let me hold you." He reached for her.

"No!" she shuffled away from him.

"Let's make love again."

"No!"

"I'm a good lover, Mom. I know exactly how you like it."

"Yes, much too well! Never again." She got out of bed and reached for her bathrobe. She put it on.

"Please don't cover yourself. You're so beautiful naked."

"Stop it!" She slapped him.

"Mom," he sobbed. "I just wanted to please you."

"You shamed me, Eros. You shamed me." She walked out of the room still crying.

Now his face was as flooded with tears as hers.

*************

A week passed by with them hardly saying a word to each other. Eros went into a deep depression, craving his mother's body like a drug addict going into withdrawal. The depression was weighing down on him. He could hardly breathe.

It was now late August, and Camilla went home early one Thursday afternoon. "Eros?" she called out. "Where are you? I need--" She sensed a terrible psychic vibration emanating from his bedroom. She rushed upstairs and barged into his room.

His dead naked body was lying on the floor, with 'Mom' carved deep in his chest. The knife used lay beside him. His flowing blood was staining the carpet.

"Oh, my God!" she screamed, bursting hysterically into tears. "No, not my baby!"

Suddenly, before she could pick him up or try to revive him psychically, as she had tried with Agape, she felt the collective power of several masked men taking her over completely, immobilizing her. The ghosts of Cameron, Patrick, and Berman started tearing her clothes off.

She gasped with agape eyes as she saw the buttons of her opening black blouse fly off, revealing her light green lace brassiere. Down went her beige dress pants with one pull, causing the button to fly off too, and the zipper to break. She felt her feet lifted up by Berman's invisible hands, which then pulled off her black high heels. The hook to her bra was torn away by Cameron's ghost, causing the bra to open wildly and reveal her shaking breasts. Her light green panties were pulled down by Patrick, revealing her black pubic hair. 

Now that she was fully naked, the masked men's collective psychic power forced her to run downstairs and out of her house. In broad daylight and right in front of her shocked neighbours, she ran and ran. Her black hair flowed in the breeze and her breasts bounced wildly and quickly; whenever she stepped on rocks, she winced in pain, but was given no chance to stop to rub her feet. She just kept on going, down street after street towards downtown Montreal.

A mob of lecherous people, mostly young men, naturally started running after her, hoping to get their hands on her nude body. She would run across busy roads, the masked men using Nigrovum to lift her up and over cars. When the drivers heard the sound of her feet pounding on the roofs of their cars, they looked out their windows, as shocked as everyone else to see this most reluctant female streaker.

Some of her university students saw her running by, and they recognized her; they quickly joined the mob of running followers.

"It's The Fox!" shouted a male student. "She's naked! Alright!" He ran along with the others.

"She looks...as great nude...as I imagined...she would," shouted another, getting out his cell-phone and setting it to video as he ran. 

"She's so pale," panted another one running with them. "Doesn't she ever...get out...in the sun?"

"I guess...she's making up...for that now," said the first student.

Some lecherous men tried to grab her as she ran by them on the sidewalk, but the masked men, having a better plan than just allowing her to be raped on the street, lifted her up and over the men before they could touch her. Nonetheless, they joined the others in chasing her. She just kept on running without a rest.

Finally, she reached a public aquarium, with all those people running after her. All of them flooded the place within half a minute of her entering. People in one of the observation areas gasped as they saw this naked woman run up the steps to a ledge at the side of a water tank. The glass door to the side of the water tank, where only the staff of the aquarium had access to the fish, suddenly unlocked and opened by itself, thanks to the masked men's mental powers.

She went through the doorway and was made to hover over the water, being turned to a horizontal position, as if lying on her back on a bed. The ghosts of Paul, Richard, Rob, and Gene--men she'd fucked while vacationing in Thailand with Veronica eighteen years before--spread Camilla's legs out and up over her head, exposing her pussy and asshole. A bunch of those lecherous men ran up the steps to the ledge to get a close-up look at her holes. Some of those with their cell-phones out were already getting video of her spread; some of the others got out their cell-phones and set them to video. 

Still a few other men tried to grab at her legs and bring her over to them: the masked men put up a psychic barrier to stop the lechers from getting her. Frustrated in their attempts, they simply followed the other lechers and took out their cell-phones, setting them to video.

Camilla felt Paul's invisible cock push in her pussy, which had been automatically moistened by the masked men's power. Richard's ghost shoved his cock up her psychically-lubed ass, while Rob's went in her salivating mouth. Gene put his invisible cock between her tits, his hands squeezing them around his ghost-member. 

The men getting video of her were amazed to see her holes open up, her left cheek puff out as if she were poking it with her tongue, and what seemed--and, of course, were--invisible fingers pressing indentations on her breasts. She just looked at the men and their cameras, helpless in her humiliation, and--too busy sucking ghost-cock--not even able to frown.

*****************

Thus was the beginning of almost forty days and nights of ceaseless gang-banging. 

She finally realized that her more expanded consciousness had come not so much from Nigrovum per se, but from the energy of Eros' come, and therefore from the unique powers he'd acquired from being half-human, half-Nigrovum. This was what had made it possible for her to know other people's experiences and remember not only her memories, but other people's. This power was what made her able to know what the masked men were doing, when they were doing it, and who many of them were: members of The Green Party. This power is what allowed her to remember all those experiences the masked men had wanted her to forget: the gang-bangs, her being thrown out of a window and into a swimming pool, Jim as a member of their scheming group, and Garth Van Duyne's rise to power, all with her unwitting help. 

Obviously, Eros' powers were greater than those of the masked men; but why didn't he use them against the masked men? He knew the danger that they were to her, and he had no love for them. Why hadn't he helped her? Why wasn't he, presumably in the 'other world', helping her now, if he loved her so much? Did he have another plan? A more subtle one? He'd revealed in his thoughts how he planned to use his power to help her: why wasn't he doing anything? Was his plan to stop them far bigger, and more ambitious, than what would merely help her? 

Furthermore, now that she had so much of his power, how could she use it to save herself from those Satanic bastards? In her stress from all that had been going on, it was impossible for her to think straight and to concentrate with the power: maybe that was precisely what the masked men were intending to do by having her incessantly gang-banged and publicly humiliated. Maybe they knew she was becoming too powerful, and becoming a threat to them. They had to distract her with these gang-bangs to stop her from using her new powers to thwart their plans. A clever plan.

If so, maybe that's why Eros wasn't coming to her aid, either. In her distraction over the past five weeks, she'd never taken the time to think about what had become of Eros' soul: he'd committed suicide after having engaged in incest with his mother, a total of seven times. There was only one place his soul could possibly have gone to--the hellish realms. 




Camilla Ch. 114



If he was there, the ghosts of many masked men could only have been torturing her boy: raping and degrading him in ways she didn't dare contemplate--thus distracting him from using his power against them. It pained her to think that, in her mad scramble to escape her gang-bangs in the aquarium, she had been wasting almost forty days reliving her memories in out-of-body visions, instead of thinking about what he must have been going through. 

I'm so selfish, she thought.

She now knew what she had to do: die, and get to the hellish realms to rescue Eros. She only needed the courage to do so. 



Camilla Ch. 115



The ghosts of Calina, Li-ping, Akemi, Veronica, and Mercedes were all over Camilla's hovering naked body. Calina's invisible tongue was licking Camilla's asshole, and Akemi's was sliding in and out of Camilla's pussy. Veronica's and Mercedes' invisible lips were sucking on each of Camilla's tits, causing her to lactate. Li-ping's invisible pussy was in Camilla's face, her tongue forced to lick away in a tireless frenzy.

The dozen or so men on the ledge watching her couldn't stop being amazed at what they were getting video of on their cell-phone cameras. The lechers saw a build-up of saliva on Camilla's asshole and pussy, and noted how both holes widened slightly, as if being licked and penetrated by invisible tongues and fingers. Her nipples bobbed up and down, as if being sucked on, and milk came through them and then disappeared, as if drunk by invisible babies. Camilla's tongue flickered and licked, and her lips sucked on something...a clitoris? The men sure wished they could have been able to see that.

Akemi's ghost was sucking on Camilla's rock-hard clitoris, while sliding her invisible finger in and out of Camilla's soaking wet cunt. Akemi's finger tickled Camilla's sizzling G-spot, and she gushed some come out into the water tank below. She moaned in delight, but also in hopeless frustration from her plight.

"It is now the night of the fortieth day that Dr. Camilla Mennon-Fox, an English professor at McGill University, has been hovering naked over this water tank in the new Montreal Aquarium, a public aquarium built two years ago, replacing the old Alcan Aquarium that was shut down in 1991," said the female reporter, who was down in the observation area in a sea of crowded people looking up at Camilla. "This reporter cannot cease to be astonished at what is happening here. Dr. Mennon-Fox appears to be enduring an endless stream of gang-rapes, all perpetrated psychically by Muslim terrorists; this bizarre phenomenon has been reported in many cities in countries all over the Western world, including Toronto, Vancouver, Seattle, New York, London, Paris, Berlin, and Moscow. Naked young women levitating, being psychically gang-raped by invisible perpetrators, and lecherous men flock to get video on their cell-phone cameras.

"The International Green Party Coalition is doing everything they can to locate the Muslim terrorist perpetrators, but the culprits are extremely elusive," the reporter continued. "Bombings continue in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, and elsewhere in the Muslim world in an attempt to intimidate those countries into helping find the men responsible, still to little avail. Yet in spite of the great difficulty in stopping these horrors, I'm sure we can all agree that The Green Party's policies against terrorism are the best, and only workable, solution. One can only wonder how Dr. Mennon-Fox, having gone without food or water for so long, has been able to stay alive, with no signs of starving or thinning. Perhaps the terrorists are using their psychic powers to feed her somehow; I don't know.

"Anyway, I have here with me two young men, former students of Dr. Mennon-Fox's" the reporter said, gesturing to the men. "What can you tell our viewers about your former professor that could be of insight to this unending problem?" She pointed the microphone at one of the men. He was still staring up at Camilla in a daze. "Mr. Willis?"

"Oh, uh, sorry," he said, looking back at the reporter. "She's hypnotizing, what can I say?" He chuckled in embarrassment. "Well, The Fox--I mean, Dr. Fox--was getting really flaky over the last few months that I'd had class with her."

"When was that?" the reporter asked.

"Just last March," Willis said.

"Oh, yeah," said the second man, now also finally turning his head away from having stared up at Camilla. "I was in the same class with him. During her lectures, she would quote The Golden Bough by Frazer, saying the soul is like a little man, inside the body, and when you die or sleep, the soul leaves the body, the little man coming out of the big man."

"Yeah," said Willis. "Larry's right. She would talk about the soul or spirit being just another body, with a head, torso, arms, and legs, and heaven and hell are parallel worlds like this one. She really sounded nuts."

"For sure," said Larry. "To 'prove' these weird ideas, she'd quote from the Bible, of all things, saying that the soul is a 'spiritual body'. That was her interpretation of the passage in 1 Corinthians, anyway."

"And she would insist that these ideas were all true," said Willis. "That she'd seen all these phenomena with her own eyes, in her dreams, and her supposedly in contact with the spirit world. She would have this wild look in her eyes as she talked about her 'experiences', her belief in such primitive nonsense. I'm an atheist, so to me it's all nonsense. Anyway, she thought we'd believe her, even acting as if we'd experienced the paranormal activity she'd seen, as if we already knew she'd been in contact with ghosts and stuff. She was really going crazy."

"Yeah," said Larry. "Funny thing, though: I look up at her there, and I wonder if maybe she was right."

"Thank you," said the reporter, allowing Larry and Willis to go back to staring up at nude Camilla. "Two students of Dr. Mennon-Fox attesting to possible mental illness in her."

Camilla came another wad in the water below. Though she enjoyed the lesbian licking, she was still in conflict about allowing herself to die, and finding Eros in the other world. Is he being gang-banged as I am? she wondered. Are the masked men beating on him, or torturing him? Oh, I couldn't bear that. Maybe Daddy, Don, and Candice have rescued him; I'd like that, but if they have, why haven't they told me? They wanted to communicate with me before; why aren't they doing so now? She pissed in the water.

I want to tell you, thought the spirit of Agape.

You mustn't, Dr. Singh mentally told him from Vancouver. The masked men will find out about the plan.

I can sense, vaguely, that Daddy and the others know something about what happened to Eros, Camilla thought. With my pussy getting licked, I can't focus my psychic powers to find out exactly what's happening to my boy, but I sense that he's in some kind of trouble. I must know, but I'm too scared of what I might see. I want to rescue him so badly, but I'm afraid of hell, of being trapped there forever. I may not even be able to help him; we may both just be doomed there. I'm so confused; what am I going to do?

She struggled with these feelings, her body shaking more from fear for Eros than from the lesbian ghosts all over her. She felt as though she were being torn in two directions: life, with endless ghost gang-bangs in public, and her son never rescued; or death, and being trapped in hell forever, probably totally incapable of helping him. How would she resolve this conflict? To live, or to die?

Her body found a compromise solution: in her trauma, she fell into a coma.

Her body fell limp, still hovering over the water, but her head, arms, and legs dangling below her unmoving torso. The ghosts, no longer able to stimulate her in any capacity, went away, not replaced by any new ones.

Everyone watching became confused. The lechers on the ledge turned off their cell-phones.

"What the fuck?" said one of them.

"I guess that's finally the end of the show," said another.

"Is she dead?" asked a third.

Oh, I hope not, thought Armand. Having been mentally restrained for days by the masked men in order not to let him help her as he had tried before, he was now finally freed from his psychic bonds. They also released Camilla, and she was about to fall into the fouled water, but Armand quickly used his own psychic powers to keep her hovering over the water. I have you now, my love. I won't let anyone degrade you any more.

The people down in the observation area looked away from Camilla and at each other, rubbing their sore necks and speculating about what had happened in a buzzing of conversation.

"Is it finally over?" one woman asked.

"If she isn't being gang-banged by spirits any more, then why is she still hovering up there?" a man asked.

"Could it be?" the reporter asked. "Is this nightmare finally coming to an end?"

"Not at all," whispered the man in the observation area who was helping the masked men. "The worst is yet to come."

Just then, the ledge started shaking, a shaking caused by the masked men's psychic powers. Cracking sounds could be heard where the ledge's support beams were. It collapsed suddenly, and all the men up there fell, some crashing through the water tank's glass, all of which fragmented into pieces, causing the water, thoroughly fouled with forty days and nights of Camilla's come, piss, and shit, to flood all over her dozens of viewers. They were soon submerged in her filth.

The shattered pieces of glass cut into the skin of many viewers, making it easier for her Nigrovum to pass into their blood and infect them with the energy of her fear and desire. Many of them drowned, and the masked men dragged those souls into the hellish realms; the many who survived would race out of the aquarium in terror once the fouled water had sufficiently receded. The panicking survivors slipped and fell on the wet floor as they rushed frantically for the doors outside.

A disembodied voice could be heard by the survivors, saying, "We will spray piss all over mankind! Man will die in the filth we leave him in!"

Singh and his patients in Vancouver, psychically connected to Montreal through the Nigrovum he'd shared with them to cure them of their AIDS, worked hard to control the situation. They, along with Agape, Don, and Candice, used their mental powers to fight as hard as they could against the masked men, to reduce the effect of Camilla's lust-energy on her former viewers. Singh and his helpers' efforts were feeble, though, able to reduce the viewers' fear and desire only slightly.

Once the water had finally all receded away, Armand gently lowered Camilla's body onto the floor of the now-empty water tank. Now that everyone was freed from the masked men's psychic restraints, she could get help. Several ambulances rushed over to the aquarium. When the hospital workers came in with stretchers, sometimes slipping on dead fish and falling on the wet floor, the only living person they found was comatose Camilla. They wrapped a blanket around her naked body, put her on a stretcher, and took her out.

She arrived in Montreal General Hospital about a half hour later. The nurses bathed her, put a hospital gown on her, and put her in bed in one of the wards.

***************

Meanwhile, the masked men in Montreal were ruminating the events of the past forty days in the guest room of their leader's mansion, where the aquarium scheme had been visualized in their rituals. While satisfied that things had gone largely according to plan, they were somewhat disappointed.

"The fear and desire in the survivors who watched her--it isn't as strong as we'd hoped it would be," said one of the masked men, pacing back and forth in front of the leader, who was sitting in a large chair.

"It will be enough," said the leader. "It may not have been enough to be completely irreversible, but the likelihood that Singh and his followers can free the masses from their psychic servitude to us is so small as to be already hopeless. The people's fear and desire will be enough to keep them loyal to the Green Party, and thus keep us in power forever. They'll be too afraid to look for any other leadership against the menace that we've led them to believe is Islamic."

"Sure," said the pacing man. "But the energy level of fear and desire in the survivors of that flood of come, it's even lower than Singh and his men had lowered it. Who else could have lowered it?"

"We'll look into it," said the leader. "Don't worry: the whole Earth will soon be ours...and Nigrovum's."

***************

Comatose Camilla had psychically monitored the masked men's conversation, for she was having visions of everything around her. No longer distracted by gang-bangs, she could freely scan everywhere and find out what was happening.

She then saw a vision of naked Eros in the burning mansion of the hellish realms. Her worst fears had been realized: he was being gang-banged by masked men, one fucking his ass, another his mouth, a third sucking his dick, and a fourth punching him against his left ribcage. Indeed, her notion of the soul as yet another body seemed frighteningly true.

Though Eros assuredly had no taste at all for gay sex, the masked men were controlling his mind--or so they thought they were--making his dick hard, making him swallow their come, and making him come in his cock-sucker's mouth. All of this was with the intention of spreading more and more of the energy of fear and desire into the world...throughout the hellish realms, and then radiating out to the world of the living. Eros was disgusted with the plan.

In spite of his suffering, though, he seemed relatively at peace; indeed, when Camilla scanned his mind, she sensed little emotional anguish. Instead, he was concentrating, focusing on converting the lust-energy in his come, and the come of his rapists, into an energy of love, of lowered fear and desire, and of peace and selflessness. He was doing this so subtlety that his assailants, drunk on their rapacious lust, were totally unaware of the conversion. They sensed only complete sexual submission in him.

This positive spiritual energy was radiating out of him, out of the hellish realms and into the world of the living, slowly reversing the effect of Camilla's lust-energy, that which had just infected her viewers in the aquarium.

Wearing a skin-tight read dress in this vision, she watched her son, admiring his noble effort to save everyone from the masked men and their Green Party. Still, Camilla wanted to save her son.

"Baby, no!" she screamed. "You bastards! Leave my son alone!" With one of her tae kwon do kicks, she sent the man punching Eros flying over her son and falling on the other side.

"Shall we rape you instead?" asked the man Eros was blowing.

"Yes!" she shouted, tearing off the dress and revealing her nakedness. "Take me instead!" She wiggled her big tits to excite him; then she squatted down and spread her legs so the men could see her pussy.

Eros spat the cock out and said, "No, Mom. Leave us. I don't want you to suffer for me; you've suffered enough. This is my punishment for shaming you; it's my atonement. I can take it--I'll gladly take it for you, and for the world."

"No, Eros. You're my baby," she said tearfully.

"I'm not a baby! Stop calling me 'baby'! I'm a man!" he angrily insisted. "I know the value of sacrifice. I'm stronger than you think I am. Leave us, Mom."

"No!" she screamed, getting up and rushing for him.

"Leave us!" he shouted, using Nigrovum to throw her out of the hellish realms. As she flew out, she could hear the masked men continue gang-banging Eros and saying, "When you die, we'll make you watch us rape him, forever and ever and ever."

*****************

Now, in a state of limbo, a dimly-lit room, Camilla gained psychic access to what was happening everywhere in the world. I sensed--I mean, she sensed all the other young women who were being used by the masked men as she'd been used: stripped naked, hovering over rivers, lakes, and aquaria in countries all over North America and Europe, and being gang-banged by the incubi of the girls' dead former lovers.

She could see the realization of the Satanic ambitions of the masked men she'd confronted in the mansion on Grouse Mountain: this was a global scheme for their Green Party to take over the world, all for the sake of Nigrovum, those microscopic black ovoid aliens. These corrupt politicians, bankers, military men, and leaders of the media knew that Nigrovum could help make the most wicked of aspirations come to fruition, and they had done so. She, like those other girls, were just pawns in the plan, similarly tricked into living the wild lives of nymphomaniacs, totally unaware that they were being used. Camilla could even sense that the other girls had been psychically manipulated into masturbating on Nigrovum-tainted grass, allowing the aliens to enter their vaginas, too.

She then focused her attention on one young woman, one of the survivors of the flooding in the aquarium. Her name was Alexa, and she was a pretty, shapely, and petite brunette. One late morning the week after the aquarium flooding, Alexa, wearing a skin-tight silver dress that went down to her knees, went into a gynaecologist's office for an examination.

"Alright," said the doctor. "Go into the other room and disrobe. The nurse will be here in a second."

"No need," Alexa said calmly, as if doing a perfect imitation of Camilla's uninhibited 'Kitty' persona. "You're gonna see everything, so I'd might as well strip here."

No, Camilla thought. She got drenched in my come, piss, and shit in the aquarium. She's got my lust-energy in her. She's acting like me, and she's gonna give the masked men more power. I have to stop this. 

"But, Alexa," the doctor said, surprised at her bold undressing in front of him, though also excited. "If the nurse comes in and sees--"

"She won't," Alexa said, using the mind-controlling powers of Nigrovum she'd acquired to make the nurse leave the clinic for a lunch break. Off went Alexa's dress, revealing her grey lace bra and panties. Then she took off her black high heels.

The doctor tried to control his excitement as he saw the girl remove her underwear without the slightest sign of embarrassment. It was as if she'd thought he was a female doctor. He felt himself drift completely into her mind control.

Camilla knew the thrill of what Alexa was doing, and wished she had been the girl with that doctor. Indeed, it reminded Camilla of when she'd met Dr. Singh during her examination for STDs. Nevertheless, the danger of Alexa's actions was equally apparent to Camilla. She sent out a psychic signal to that nurse, freeing her from Alexa's mind control.

The nurse had already walked several blocks away from the clinic, in the direction of a Starbucks, when she was released by Camilla. "What the hell...?" the nurse said, immediately turning around and hurrying back to the clinic. "Doctor Phelps is going to be mad."

Squatting, Phelps touched naked Alexa's right breast while putting a stethoscope to her heart.

"You like how soft my tittie is, Doctor?" she asked in 'Kitty's' voice, smiling as he gently squeezed it.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned, letting go of his stethoscope so he could touch his hard-on with his now-free hand. "OK, turn around and bend over. I gotta check you down there."

"OK," she said, happily bending over and spreading her legs so he could see her pink pussy and brown asshole. He opened both holes with his ungloved fingers and looked inside. Looking back at him, she asked, "You like my holes, Doc?"

Just then, the nurse barged in. "Doctor Phelps!" she shouted. "In all the years I've worked for you, I've never..."

He got up after being released from Alexa's power; blushing, he was just as astonished by his conduct as the nurse was. Alexa quickly put her clothes back on, and just before she left the office, she sent a mental message to the doctor: Take me to dinner tonight. You have my phone number.

Well, Camilla thought. I guess that's the best I could do to stop her.



Camilla Ch. 116



Dr. Petrovich, 61, walked into Camilla's room to take a look at her for the first time. A nurse, in her late fifties, was gently laying a fresh sheet over Camilla's bed, covering her body with it up to the shoulders.

"How long has she been in this coma?" he asked the nurse.

"Oh, months," said the nurse.

"Wow. What caused it?" he asked.

"Severe trauma," she said. "Surely you remember that nasty news story a few months ago, don't you? Her in that...bizarre situation, with all the sexual activity, and all those people watching? It was too much for her, too much for any girl. And she's so pretty, too."

"Poor thing," he said. "Keep me notified if her condition changes." He left the room and the ward.

****************

Armand was in his hotel meditating, psychically communing with Dr. Singh and the spirits of Agape, Don, and Candice.

All this time she's been in this coma, Candice observed, knowing that those masked bastards are raping her son; and you won't let her go, so she can let go of her life, enter our world, and save him.

"She's afraid," Armand said. "She knows there's no guarantee she even can save Eros. Besides, he doesn't want to be saved: we all know that. None of you even wants him out of hell yet, anyway."

The chances of rescuing both of them from the hellish realms are getting better all the time, thanks to Eros, Candice insisted. He's slowly but surely converting the people's psychic energy of lust and fear into that of love and hope: we all know that, too. She should know that, you should know that, and you and she should be encouraged enough to help him.

We know you don't want her to die, but she must, as painful as that may be for you, Don added. As long as she's in the physical world, the masked men will find new ways to torment her, especially if Eros continues to weaken their power. We all hope he will succeed in thwarting the masked men's ambition, that of turning the world into a gigantic fascist state, whose repression they'd say is justified by the out-of-control lust and fear noted in the people. If Eros succeeds in stopping the masked men's plan, they'll still have enough power to continue hurting her. And they'll really want to torture her then, for they'll want revenge.

You want my daughter to stay alive because you're in love with her, Agape mentally told Armand. But as long as she's alive, she'll be a slave to her desires, and therefore at the mercy of the masked men.

In the other world, she can be rescued from hell and brought into the heavenly realms, Dr. Singh communicated psychically from Vancouver. There she'll have a much better life than she could ever have here.

She'll be made pure of sin, Don added. Like a child, pure and innocent, as Jesus says we all must be to enter heaven. In fact, we'll make sure she takes on a child's form when she's in heaven, to help her take her mind off of sex. That should keep her from wanting to return to hell.

And keeping her from wanting to return to hell will be vitally important to us, Agape told Armand. If she returns there, after all our efforts to free her from those realms, what if she--still addicted to desire, and in her state of increasing mental instability--does nothing more than shift back and forth from realm to realm in that inferno, and finds herself trapped there forever? Maybe we could get her out again, but what if she keeps going back after our every rescue of her? It would be a state of everlasting madness for all of us. She must be delivered from the hell of this physical world, then taken out of the hellish realms once and for all...or all is lost.

In the heavenly realms, she'll be happy, Armand, Candice told him. Don't you want that for Camilla? Heaven is like a Buddhist Pure Land, right next to the realm of Nirvana. It would be a perfect resting place for her.

Our psychic efforts, along with the help we're getting from my former AIDS patients like you, are making some progress in reversing the lust and fear energy that the Satanists are spreading all over the world, Dr. Singh pointed out. But Eros' invaluable assistance is making our progress seem non-existent in comparison, the way the morning sunlight makes a candle by a window increasingly redundant and unnecessary.

Release her, Armand, Agape begged him. Release her from the psychic bonds you put her in so she can let go of this world.

Let her have some peace, perhaps for the first time in her whole life, Don said.

We can't keep up this psychic barrier against the masked men forever, Candice told Armand. Sooner or later, they'll break through it and hear what we're communicating about. Then they'll know what Eros is doing. We can't let them know that, and reverse his efforts.

Armand thought for a minute about what they'd been saying. Then he said, "Eros can defeat the masked men--completely, I'm sure, eventually draining them of all their power. When he finally does, she'll be forever free of them, and I'll marry her. Then we'll meditate together, she'll grow in spirituality, and she'll have peace."

The masked men, though incapable of knowing what psychic conversation Armand was having with Dr. Singh and the spirits, were aware of his resolve not to let her go, and of his desire to have her to himself.

"Good work," said the Montreal leader to the other masked men in his mansion. "Armand's mind is putty in our hands."

****************

That night in Montreal General Hospital, an orderly brought a male friend of his into Camilla's room, careful not to let any other staff see them enter.

"OK, here she is," he told his friend, pulling the sheet off her body. "So, John, what do you think of her? Isn't she hot?"

"She's awfully pale, Jay," John said. "She looks like she's dead."

"Oh, yeah? Well, check out this body," Jay said, gently removing her hospital gown and revealing her nakedness to John. "If she seems dead to you, doesn't that kinda give you a feeling for necrophilia?"

John's eyes greedily poured all over Camilla's body, salivating at the sight of her large breasts and black pubic hair.

"Yeah, actually, it does," John said. "She is kinda hot, in a Goth-girl kind of way. Why are her nipples black?"

"I don't know, but they're just as tasty as pink ones. I should know: I sucked on 'em myself a few weeks ago, when no one else was around. Have a free taste right now, if you don't believe me."

"Not with you watching, pervert. Anyway, here's my money. A hundred bucks, right?" John handed Jay a wad of bills.

"That's right." Jay counted his money. "Now, do whatever you like with her, but be gentle, OK? Don't leave any marks on her body for the nurses or doctors to see, and let's hope she doesn't suddenly wake up."

"Right, we don't want her pulling an Uma Thurman on me," John said, laughing. "I can't believe you got inspired to start your pimping business from watching Kill Bill, knowing how things turned out in that movie. Don't you learn anything from the mistakes men make in movies?"

"You're not learning any more than I am," Jay said, putting the money in his pocket. "Movies don't teach people anything, anyway. They just make us want to imitate what we see. Well, have fun." He stood there a minute.

"What the fuck are you doing? This ain't no peep show. Get out of here."

Jay laughed and left the room.

John locked the door, took some Vaseline out of his jacket pocket, and quickly got naked; then he climbed on the bed, grabbed her legs, and spread them out wide and up over her head so he could see both her pussy and asshole. Whoa, her asshole's black, too, he thought as he aimed his hard-on at her anal orifice. Fucking a sleeping girl; I've always wanted to do this. He got some Vaseline on his fingers, lubed her rectum with it, and slid his cock in.

As he continued shoving his cock in and out of her tight asshole, he grabbed her tits and squeezed them aggressively, not at all concerned about being gentle, as he'd promised Jay.

"Oh," he moaned, loving how her anal lips squeezed around his shaft in a tight sucking sensation. "You are...so fine, Camilla. You're gonna...make my...cock explode. Unh!" He continued pumping her ass for another two minutes.

Not wanting to come before he'd tried out her pussy, he pulled his cock out of her ass, then went down and wrapped his wet lips tightly around her left nipple. Jay was right, he thought as he sucked, making her tit bob up and down. They're just as tasty as pink nipples. He pulled up on the nipple, then his lips let go of it; he smiled as he saw her tit bounce down. Then his lips embraced the right nipple, and he sucked on that one for a while.

After that, he let go of that nipple and aimed his hard cock for her pussy. He was surprised to note how wet the pussy of his comatose partner was, but he was happy that he didn't need to use the Vaseline to lubricate her. So he just shoved his cock in and began pumping.

"What a nice, wet pussy," he sighed, not at all worried if anyone outside heard him. "Ah!"

Camilla's pussy was wet because, though unable to feel anything physical, she nonetheless could psychically sense the presence of a man enjoying her. Scanning his mind, she learned that he was a garbage truck driver...in her opinion, one of the least worthy men there were of having her delicious body. Had John been a professor, a doctor, or a businessman, she might have tolerated, or even enjoyed, the sex...but not a garbageman.

Her pussy was wet not from enjoying the sex...not at all, she was outraged. She was wet because she was using her psychic powers in preparation for gushing out a new kind of come. With Nigrovum's aid, she was visualizing her come as an acid that, though leaving her body perfectly unscathed, would eat deep into John and kill him.

He was thrusting his cock in and out of her cunt faster and faster, shoving it with more and more force. He loved watching her tits bounce back and forth with her shaking body.

"I'm gonna...make you bleed, bitch," he groaned. "Oh!"

She sensed he was about to come. Not wanting any of his unworthy come inside her, she made herself come. Her Nigrovum-altered come gushed out all over his cock and balls, the acid burning into them and making them disintegrate before his horrified eyes.

"What the...fuck?!" he gasped as he saw the the acid continue eating into his body, destroying his exposed intestines and stomach. He screamed and fell off the bed, lying dead on the floor in a pool of blood.

Who made who bleed, bitch? still-comatose Camilla thought to herself, in deep satisfaction. I'm getting a little tired of men controlling my body.

Hearing the scream, Jay rushed into the room, shocked at what he saw and clueless as to who was responsible. He looked everywhere in the room, but saw no possible culprit. The only other person he saw in the room was Camilla, lying naked and unconscious on the bed, as if at peace.

She sensed his presence, scanned his mind, and learned that he was the one responsible for letting John fuck her. Sensing that he'd sucked her tit once before, too, she was as infuriated with him as she had been with John.

Being in an unconscious state made it much easier for her to focus on her visualizations. She used Nigrovum to imagine Jay's head throbbing with pain, and burning up in heat, as if a small fire was growing in his brain.

He put his hands up on his temples, rubbing them and moving his head back and forth as he felt the pain and heat steadily increasing. He moaned and whined.

"What the fuck...is happening?" he groaned, feeling the throbbing grow more and more intolerable.

Finally, his head exploded loudly, spraying his blood, flesh, and pieces of his shattered skull all over the room. She had his blood all over her, but she didn't care. She'd had her revenge.

With her expanded psychic consciousness, she now knew that the Muslim men she'd killed in Bali, the same way she just killed Jay, were innocent of terrorist inclinations, and she regretted those murders. These murders, however, she was glad to have committed, for she sensed that Jay had been prostituting comatose women for some time, and John was going to be a regular...John.

Much, apparently, should be learned from the mistakes men make in movies.



Camilla Ch. 117



In his Montreal hotel, Armand was meditating, psychically communing with Dr. Singh and the spirits of Agape, Don, and Candice. Tears were streaming down Armand's cheeks.

We warned you not to keep her alive, Singh mentally communicated from Vancouver.

What good has keeping her alive done? Agape asked Armand. She killed those two men in her hospital room, men whose spirits, burning with Nigrovum's energy of desire, are now in hell. Imagine the shock of the doctors and nurses who later saw the bloody, mutilated corpses, and her naked body, soaked with their blood?

Let her go, Don urged Armand. Free her from your psychic bonds so she can let go of this world. She has no place here anymore, and she's suffered enough. We can save her from hell, and she'll have peace.

It'll surely be easier to her out of the hellish areas, now that Eros is succeeding in converting all the lust-energy of the people into love-energy, Candice added. It's amazing, his progress, slow but sure. He takes the sexual ecstasy of the masked men, who are still gang-banging him in hell, and he subtly changes that energy into a kind of religious ecstasy, all without those bastards knowing. He then radiates that converted energy outward and into the world of the living. This transformed energy then changes the fear and desire of the people into love and hope.

It's truly beautiful to contemplate, Singh told Armand. If all continues as planned, the people will soon turn against the Green Party, and we can end these wars against the Islamic world. Families will be reunited; people will be less selfish and materialistic; the environmentalist cause will return to its nobler roots; and democracy--true democracy--will be reborn.

And the best thing is, the masked men still haven't figured out what's reversing their fortunes, Don pointed out. Eros is blocking them from knowing he's doing the converting, as we're blocking them from knowing about this mental conversation.

But you must let my daughter go, Agape psychically said. If not, the masked men will continue to torment her here in the physical world, and men like those rapists in the hospital will continue to exploit her.

"Alright," Armand said, sobbing. "I'll let her go. I can feel the presence of the masked men; they've been inflating my desires. They were the ones who tempted me into wanting to bind her."

See? Candice told him. Their power is getting weaker. You can tell when they're manipulating you. All thanks to Eros: our own efforts to reverse the masked men's power have become unnecessary. He is a true saviour.

*************

Now released from Armand's psychic bonds, comatose Camilla was free to let herself die, go into the hellish realms, and save her son...or was she? A battle raged in her unconscious mind: she was torn between her need to deliver Eros from his suffering, and her fear of being forever subjected to that same suffering herself. Besides, the thought of her beautiful body decomposing was intolerable, so attached was she still to it.

What was more, Armand's love for her had touched her heart, and tempted her flesh. She wanted to know him...physically know him. One last fuck before she died...how irresistible!

Just then, she felt a psychic tremor, one of Eros being abused. She sensed a masked man fucking his ass, violently tearing her son's bloody anal walls with his cock. She sensed Eros screaming in pain, then groaning from punches on his face and body, bloodying his nose and mouth, and spotting his torso with bruises.

In a moment of wild impulsiveness, Camilla decided finally to let go of her life. She visualized her soul, a tiny mannikin, floating out of her body, out of the hospital ward, and out of the physical world.

The nurse watching her looked up and saw the flatlines on Camilla's ECG. Shrieking, the nurse then rushed out of the room--the new room Camilla had been moved into after she'd been found in that pool of blood with Jay's and John's corpses. The nurse got a doctor, and when she brought him into the room, it was too late. The doctor felt no pulse, and he tried to revive Camilla, but to no avail. She was dead. The nurse then pulled the bed-sheet over Camilla's face.

*************

In the hellish realms at last, Camilla found herself in a dark room like one of those in the basement of the mansion on Grouse Mountain. Fire lit up the darkness from the surrounding rooms, and smoke emanated from them; she saw Eros, still being beaten and sodomized.

"Leave my son alone!" she screamed. Already naked, she lay on the floor and spread her legs out wide, showing off her pussy. "Take me instead!"

"Gladly," the masked man punching Eros said. "We've all been waiting for you." He started walking towards her.

"No!" Eros shouted, and he used Nigrovum to 'throw' his mother out of the room, making her fly up through the ceilings of the upper floors like a ghost; she ended up in a dark room on the fifth floor. When she tried to go back down to the basement, she found she couldn't: the door was locked, and she couldn't go through the walls as she had when he'd sent her up, for he was psychically blocking her.

Baby, she mentally asked him, don't you want Mommy to save you?

Actually, Mom, he answered, I'm the one doing the saving--saving you, and saving everyone. Please let me; don't interfere.

Knowing he was right, and despairing that she couldn't stop her son's suffering, she just sat in the dark room and sobbed softly. The only pleasure she could hope to find would be back in the physical world...with Armand.

*************

A few nights later, Armand went to Montreal General Hospital to take one last look at the body of the woman he was in love with. Sensing she was already dead, he couldn't stop crying.

A nurse approached him as he neared Camilla's ward. "Can I help you?" the nurse asked him.

"Yes," he said. "I'm looking for Camilla Mennon-Fox."

"Oh," the nurse said, pausing awkwardly. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"I know she died," he said. "I'm here to identify her; I'm in love with her, and I just want to see her alone, one last time before the funeral. Where is she?"

"This way," the nurse said, leading him to the morgue. "What relationship do you have with her?"

"I'm her husband," he lied.

"Do you know about what happened just before she died? We came into her room to change her bed-sheets, and we found her naked, with blood all over her...not her blood, but that of two men whom we suspect had tried to rape her. The men's bloody corpses were lying on the floor by her bed: one of the men was an orderly here."

"Really?" Armand asked, pretending not to know what she was talking about.

"Oh, it was horrible: the orderly was headless, and the other was eviscerated and without genitals. The police have absolutely no idea who could have killed the men, especially in such a bizarre and gory way; anyway, the investigation is ongoing. We cleaned her, dressed her, and moved her into a new room, but she died soon after. I've never seen such a bizarre pair of murders in my life. I guess someone who cared about her got revenge on those men for trying to rape her." The nurse looked carefully into Armand's eyes, but saw no guilty expression, nor any attempt to hide guilt feelings. She correctly assumed he was innocent of the killings.

"How awful," Armand said, feeling the horror of the murders psychically rather than from the nurse's words.

They reached the morgue, and the nurse pulled out of the cold chamber the bed on which Camilla's naked body lay.

The nurse left the room. Armand was now alone with Camilla's nude corpse. He looked at her face and wept. He noted how her skin was no paler from decomposition than it was from Nigrovum's whitening of it. He sensed the presence of her soul watching him, and how it was using Nigrovum to keep her body from rotting.

"Camilla, let go," he whispered. "Don't be attached to this world anymore. Have some peace. I love you, but you can't go on like this."

Suddenly, the door to the room locked, making a clicking sound that startled both Armand and the nurse outside. Before she was able to unlock the door, Camilla's spirit made her freeze in her tracks, standing mutely like a wax statue.

Armand put his hands on Camilla's cheeks, which were quickly warming up.

"Camilla, no," he said. "Your lusts and desires are a consumption that are killing your soul. Let go of this world; let the spirits of your loved ones take you to the heavenly realms. One day, I'll be there with you."

Still seeing no hope in her own salvation, she still wanted that one last fuck before embracing her damnation. Camilla's soul slipped back inside her body, quickly reanimating it. Her eyes suddenly opened.

He jumped back several steps in shock. She sat up and spread her legs out wide so he could see her purple pussy. "Do you like my body, Armand?" she asked.

"Diabolo," he muttered, shaking in terror.

"Don't reject me," she said, slightly angry. "I want to please you."

She used Nigrovum to undo his pants and pull them down; then she gave him a full erection. Impressed with the size of his member--about six and a half inches long--she used her mind-controlling powers to make him walk over to her and sit on her bed.

"No!" he cried. "Camilla, don't do this!"

She got on top of him in the cowgirl position. "Come, come, Armand," she said with a wicked grin on her face. "I thought you loved me. Now you can have me. You're getting lucky; enjoy the moment." She fed his cock into her descending wet pussy, sighing and moaning in an upward crescendo of pitches. When the tip of his cock poked against her tingling A-spot, she screamed with delight.

She began bouncing up and down on his rock-hard cock. She used Nigrovum to make him kiss her on the lips and fondle her breasts, pinching the black nipples.

His eyes were agape with horror as he saw and felt the corpse of the woman he loved essentially raping him. He tried using his own psychic powers to resist her, but hers were much greater than his. Besides, part of him was enjoying the sex.

She psychically made him finger her black asshole, having it dig deep inside to massage her rectal walls. She squealed like a wild banshee, coming closer and closer to orgasm.

"Now you...have even...more reason...to love me," she panted, looking lewdly in his eyes. "Ah!"

"Now I...have even...more reason...to fear, for myself...and for...your sake," he groaned, looking back at her with a mixture of fright and regretted pleasure. "Oh!"

***************

The masked men, in the guest room of the Montreal leader's mansion, were monitoring what was happening in the morgue.

"That girl never ceases to amaze me," the leader said, chuckling to himself, as were the others. "She will be hugely enjoyed by our associates in hell."

"Singh, his patients, and the spirits of her friends are trying to stop her from fucking Armand," said one of the other masked men. "We're blocking them, though: they won't get in."

"Good," said the leader. "Let Camilla have one last bit of fun here. Maybe she'll revive Armand's rapacious lust, and he'll start working for us."

***************

Camilla was still making Armand's hands finger her asshole and squeeze her buttocks. She also made him lower his head and suck on her left nipple, then her right. She lactated, and he drank some of her milk.

Though he was horrified at being forced to enjoy necrophiliac sex, he was nevertheless enjoying it. Indeed, her body was as sweet-tasting, and as delightful to touch, as it was to look at! But he was beyond this superficial kind of love: after all, lust is what had caused him to get HIV. When Dr. Singh cured him by giving him a sample of his Nigrovum, Armand pledged to use his new life for good. Camilla was making him go back to his wicked old ways.

After another minute or so of intense, aggressive fucking, Camilla screamed in whistle register and came all over his lap, while he came inside her pussy. She got off him and released him: still shaking, he got off the bed and found some Kleenex on a nearby desk. He wiped her come off himself as best he could, then pulled up his pants with a crushing feeling of shame.

She lay back on the bed as if she'd never moved an inch. Then she unlocked the door, made the nurse forget all of what had just happened, and visualized her soul leaving her body again. Within seconds, her corpse cooled up, as if it had just been pulled out of the cold chamber. Her disembodied soul hovered in the room, watching the reactions of sobbing Armand and the nurse, who had just come back into the room.

Thinking she'd just left the room and let Armand have an innocent moment alone with Camilla's corpse, the nurse asked, "Are you alright?"

"No!" he cried, then ran out of the morgue.

***************

Back in his hotel that night, Armand sat on his bed and meditated, visualizing the lust-energy he'd got from Camilla's come transforming into love-energy. He could feel Eros speeding up the conversion, and knowing this renewed his hope for Camilla, and for the world. Within a half an hour, his trembling had changed into peaceful stillness.

"We'll save you, Camilla," he whispered calmly. "I promise you, my love."

His tranquility soon grew into sleepiness, and he stripped down to his underwear and went to bed. He fell asleep in about ten minutes.

He dreamed of the burning mansion, and of Camilla, alone in that dark room on the fifth floor. She was still being kept there, not allowed by Eros to get out and save him; Eros was keeping the spirits of the masked men and her former lovers from getting at her, too, so it was like being in a state of limbo. Similarly, she was blocking the spirits of Agape, Don, and Candice from coming in and rescuing her, for she still wanted to save her son, and now that Armand was with her, she was hoping for some more pleasure with him.

He lay on his back on a bed in that room, much as he lay on his bed in his hotel. She approached him and pulled away the blankets.

"No, Camilla," he whispered. "Not again; you're only harming your soul even more. Your lust is consuming you."

"Yes, Armand," she said. "But this is the only happiness left to me. Now I'll give you even more good reason to be in love with me." She pulled down his underwear, psychically got his dick hard, and wrapped her wet lips around the knob, kissing and licking it. She slid her lips up and down his shaft, looking up in his eyes, smiling lewdly and moaning softly.

"But, Camilla, I...already have...a good reason...to love you...Oh!" he sighed, as amazed with her oral skills as he was terrified of her succubus. "It's your...humanity, your vulnerability, your pain, Ah...that I love. I want...to help you, not merely...to have you. Unh!"

She deep-throated him, making gurgling sounds as she felt his knob poking in her throat. She played with his balls, tickling his scrotum with her fingers and gently shaking his testicles. She looked up in his eyes like a willing sex slave, even though she was the master in this sexual encounter.

In his hotel, Armand lay in bed with his underwear pulled down and his erection pointing up to the ceiling. His boner was covered with the saliva of Camilla's succubus, which made his thighs bob up and down, and his balls shake.

Join me in hell, she mentally told him as she wrapped her curved tongue tightly around his bulging corpus spongiosum and slid it up and down, bringing him closer and closer to coming. Here I'll please you, forever and ever and ever.

After another minute of sucking, he came plentifully in her mouth. She giggled as she swallowed much of his come, while letting the rest of it splash on her nose, cheeks, and left eye. When he spouted out the last of it, he looked down at her dripping dirty face, not at all pleased as she had been.

"Now you know what I can do for you," she purred lasciviously.

"But you...must know...what we...can do...for you. We want...to save you. You don't want...to be...a whore forever, like your mother, do you?" He woke up bathed in sweat. After cleaning his come off his lap, he sat on his bed and meditated again, visualizing her lust-energy changing into love-energy as before, and slowly calming himself down again.

His last words had put a jolt through her. She was a whore, like her mother. Camilla remembered her son, and remembered how much she'd shamed herself over the years. First seducing all those high school and elementary school teachers, all the while controlled by the masked men without her knowing it; then seducing her university profs; then committing incest with her father; then seducing her own students; and finally being tricked into committing incest with Eros.

Indeed, she had become just like her promiscuous mother. Physically, with the Nigrovum-induced change from blonde hair and blue eyes to black hair and black eyes; and spiritually, with her change from a sweet, innocent schoolgirl into a slut.

And now she was in hell, with legions of demons ready to gang-rape her for eternity.

This imprisonment has got to end, she thought. Once and for all.

...TO BE CONCLUDED



Camilla Ch. 118



I'll face the hellish realms, Camilla thought, but I'll still use Nigrovum to keep my physical body from decomposing; I can't bear the thought of my beautiful body getting ugly in that mortuary.

With this other resolution in mind, Camilla removed the psychic barrier that had been keeping the spirits of Agape, Don Josiah, and Candice from entering the room Eros had put her in. The spirits immediately rushed in.

"Good," her father said. "You've finally accepted what you must do. Now, come with us, up and through the roof: it will lead you towards the heavenly realms."

"No," Camilla said. "I want to go down into the hellish realms. I must save my son."

"Camilla, he won't let you," Candice told her. "You know that."

"Come with us, please," Don entreated. "Come upwards with us. Though this afterlife parallels the physical one you left behind, it goes by different laws: not the normal laws of physics, but spiritual laws--surreal, non-rational, dream-like. The relationship between heaven and hell isn't a dichotomy here, as we'd been taught in church: the afterlife is a circular continuum, with the extremes of heaven and hell meeting and dissolving into each other."

"I know," Camilla said. "It's like the ouroboros, the serpent coiled in a circle, biting its tail. Heaven is the snakes's head, and hell is its tail. Extreme ecstasy and extreme agony are intimately close, far from being the opposites we thought they were when we were alive on Earth. That's why I must get to the biting head of heaven through the bitten tail of hell. To be saved, I must be purified of my sin: I must assuage my guilt through suffering the worst."

"Not necessarily," Agape insisted. "This dream-like world of the spirit is rather surreal in how bizarre the experiences get, but it provides gentler ways of purifying you. Come up with us, through the roof of this infernal mansion, and in the sky, beyond the clouds, you'll enter other rooms, places of innocent pleasures, like those you saw in your dream with me, back when you were pregnant with Eros. Together, we'll reach the serpent's heavenly head by going up its body, experiencing gradual but sure spiritual progress."

"No!" Camilla said. "I'll never be freed of my lusts and desires in those boring places. I can be purified only through pain, down in the hellish realms."

"Camilla, come with us," Candice said. "Eros put you in here, in this room, to protect you from the demon rapists down there, so they can't come up and get at you. He's doing important work--saving humanity from the masked men's Green Party."

"Being gang-raped?" Camilla retorted. "I deserve that kind of punishment, for all the bad I've done in my life; my son doesn't deserve it. He may have tricked me into committing incest with him, and he may have killed himself, but he's still my son, and I won't have him being a Christ-figure for my sins."

"'Long is the way and hard, that out of hell leads up to light'," said Don.

"I know my Milton, Don," Said Camilla. "And only down into hell, through the bitten tail and into the mouth of the serpent's head, is the way to the light for me. It was for all of you--you know that. Candice, you were a dope-fiend and a demon in hell before they rescued you. Don, you were a fallen priest, seduced by me and incarcerated for a crime you didn't commit, my crime of accidentally killing my dad. Then an inmate murdered you in your cell. Daddy, you were an alcoholic; you were tricked into having sex with Candice and me before I shot you and you went to heaven. Even Mr. Pierce, our old gym teacher, remember him, Candice? He was a lecher, watching underage girls shower in high school before we had him redeem himself with sexual penance--do you still remember, Candice? Now he's as saintly as all of you, and speaking out against the Green Party, as Ravinder is. Ravinder, too, reached a low point in his life, literally low, fetishing my feet as well as those of prostitutes, and catching gonorrhoea, before coming up to the mind and soul, and revering them, as he does now. I want the same chance for that kind of redemption, a baptism through fire, a purgatory to cleanse me of all my guilt."

"You want the sex down there, in the lower realms, that's what you want," Candice said. "We know you still crave sex; you're as addicted to it as ever."

"That's what the masked men want," Don said. "They're tempting you down there, so they can drag you down further, where they'll rape you, on the lower floors."

"They're beginning to sense that Eros is the one converting their lust-energy into love, and psychically changing the world's fear into hope," Agape said. "They want to replace Eros with you, and I won't let my daughter be subjected to that brutality."

"But I've acquired Eros' powers of conversion, Daddy!" Camilla insisted. "He gave them to me in his ejaculations when he was committing incest with me. I can do the converting as the masked men are gang-banging me. I owe it to the world, to atone for all the bad I've done, infecting all my lovers with my lustful Nigrovum and killing so many of them. You take Eros up to the heavenly realms, and I can convert the fear and desire into spiritual energy."

"No, you can't!" Candice said. "You'll be too horny to concentrate on converting it. That's what those bastards want."

"And with you and your addiction to desire, and your fear of pain, instead of going all the way through to the other side of the ouroboros' body, you'll just bounce back and forth in the hellish realms, gang-raped forever, in all probability," Agape said. "As your father, I can't allow you to do that to yourself. Allow yourself to have some peace instead, I beg you. We must take you up and out of hell, and keep you out of hell."

"No!" Camilla said, horrified at contemplating how Eros was still being gang-raped, without rest. "I must save my son!"

"There'll be another time for that," Don said. "When Eros finishes his converting of bad energy into good, and the masked men are sufficiently weakened; then we can rescue him. Until that time, be patient, Camilla. What you should be doing is Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac, giving up your son for a greater good. You must learn the value of sacrifice."

"Yes!" Camilla said. "Self-sacrifice!"

She summoned all the power of Nigrovum that she could muster, and broke through the barrier Eros had used to keep her in that room on the fifth floor. She kicked open the door and ran down the stairs to the fourth floor. Agape, Don, and Candice raced after her.

In a large, dark, circular room on the fourth floor, naked Camilla saw an orgy being carried on by many of the spirits of her naked former lovers, the masked men, and some of the women in the mansion on Grouse Mountain. The only thing that made them all look different from when they were alive was that everyone had Camilla's black-haired, black-eyed, pale-skinned 'Goth' look. The fact that they were all ghosts made their new look eerily appropriate. Illuminating the darkness was a dozen tall candlesticks placed equidistantly from each other, spread throughout the room, as they would be in all the other rooms on the other floors.

Mr. Phillips, Camilla's fat old high school music teacher, was lying on his back, with that skinny, petite Latina Dora blowing him. Mr. Knowles, Camilla's armpit fucker back in her first gang-bang, was fucking Dora's pretty little asshole. Sitting on Mr. Phillips's face, and receiving eager licking and sucking on her clit, was Veronica, the busty, curvaceous redhead stripper Camilla went to Thailand with. Veronica was giving Peter, her lover in Thailand, the one she met on the boat, a hand job. Richard, another of theThailand lovers on the boat, was getting a hand job from Dora.

"Come join us," Veronica said in moans. "Let me...lick your pussy, just like...old times. Oh!"

"I'd love to," Camilla said, licking her lips at the sight of Veronica's delicious body, and fighting temptation, "but I shouldn't."

Beside that group of fuckers, Camilla saw another: Messrs. Rudolph and Matotek, her old high school teachers who'd given her her first double penetration, were fucking Belle, the lovely model sister of erotic artist Carl. Rudolph was sliding his cock in and out of her delicious pussy, and Matotek was fucking her tight ass. Rudolph, lying under Belle on his back, was aggressively pawing at her breasts; Matotek moved his hands along her hips, admiring the smooth, pale skin that had once been a coffee brown. Belle was giving a hand job to Rob, the Canadian Camilla met in an eatery in Thailand, when she'd made herself look like a Thai prostitute. He was licking the pussy of Connie, the Korean-Canadian girl Camilla and Cameron once had in a threesome many years before.

Camilla was admiring Belle's beauty, too, and getting even more tempted. Camilla wished she could have had a threesome with Belle and Carl, but back in the studio of his old Vancouver shop, not here in hell.

"Belle?" Camilla asked. "Where's your brother?"

"Carl's on...the third floor," Belle said in groans and sighs. "Unh! Getting golden showers. He's been...waiting for you. Oh!"

Before Camilla could even thank Belle, the ghosts of the other four high school teachers who'd given Camilla her first gang-bang rushed up to her. Messrs. Burgess, Williams, Langella, and Johnson got her on the floor on her back with her spread legs raised up high, and the men--as naked as everyone else was--shoved their cocks in her holes. Just like in the original gang-bang in that old abandoned building in downtown Vancouver, Williams put his cock in her mouth, Burgess put his cock between her tits, Langella slid his cock in her wet pussy, and Johnson shoved his cock in her psychically lubricated ass. Marcel, her old French Facebook friend, came over, taking her hand and wrapping her fingers around his cock; she immediately began jerking him off. Replacing Knowles, Gene--one of the men she'd fucked back in Pattaya, Thailand--put his cock in her armpit and began fucking it.

The ghost of Cameron, always one to enjoy seeing other men fuck his wife, came by, squatted up close, and watched the gang-bang. They're giving it to you the way I never could, Camilla, the self-hating cuckold thought. Still, he was getting a hard-on from the spectacle.

Though they were all spirits, strangely the whole experience felt as palpable and real as if they had all still had their bodies, so real did this dream-world seem, this afterlife that paralleled the physical world they'd all left. All those teachers' hands moving up and down her naked 'body', and those cocks sliding in and out of her three holes...it reminded her of earlier, happier times...well, times involving stress of a more...temporal sort, anyway.

Are you all still mad at me? she asked her lovers using mental telepathy, since her saliva-drenched lips and tongue were busy caressing Williams's hard-on.

"Non, chérie," Marcel moaned, stroking the arm of the hand that so expertly moved along his rock-hard shaft.

"No, not any more," Williams panted, enjoying how her tongue was tickling the tip of his cock. "Oh!"

"We were mad, before," Johnson sighed, loving how the tightness of her anal lips squeezed his dick. "But now...that you're dead, too, you're our equal. Unh!"

"We learned...to stop...hating you," said Burgess, who squeezed her soft, smooth breasts tightly around his cock, "when we realized...the hate...was hurting us. Ah!"

"Letting go...of vengeful thoughts...freed us from...the lower floors," Langella said, feeling her first orgasm splash all over his cock and balls. "We then...came up here."

"But we're still...hooked on sex," Williams said, pulling his cock out of her mouth and having her suck his balls.

"Yeah," Gene said, his dick still poking her armpit. "So we're stuck here."

"Fucking is...our only happiness, now...Ooh!" Johnson said in grunts.

Maybe they're right, Camilla thought, taking Williams's balls out of, and his cock back in, her mouth. The intense vaginal and anal penetrations she was getting made her seem to think she was in the heavenly realms. I should just stay on this floor. It sure is fun.

"Resist them, Camil!" Candice said after she, Agape and Don broke through a psychic barrier the masked men had put up to separate Camilla from her friends.

"Don't you want to save yourself?" Agape asked, approaching her gang-bangers.

"This is just what the masked men want!" Don told her. "To tempt you, and drag you down lower."

"Let's grab her and drag her up, if she's unwilling," Candice said; but just then, another, stronger psychic barrier was set up by the masked men to keep Camilla's friends from helping her. All they could do was watch helplessly as they tried to break through it.

Burgess, Langella, Gene, and Johnson pulled their cocks out of their respective fucking places; then they stood up and joined Williams and Marcel in a circle around kneeling Camilla, who'd just let Williams take his cock out of her mouth. The men masturbated over her upward-looking face, and sprayed bukkake all over her. As each gushing of jizz splashed on her face and hair, the men breathed heavily together, like a violently blowing wind. When the men were spent, they left her, looking for other female spirits to fuck. Cameron, only interested in watching his wife's fucking, stayed with her.

Camilla wiped the come out of her eyes and used Nigrovum to remove the rest of the gooey mess all over her head. Now all clean, she was glad to see Belle, Dora, and Veronica approaching her for sex, instead of those four punks from Vancouver who'd interrupted her fun with her teachers that night nineteen years before.

Belle lay on her back on the floor; Camilla, on all fours, got between Belle's spread-out legs and buried her face in Belle's muff. Dora squatted over Belle's face, and Belle licked her little asshole and pussy. Veronica got down on all fours behind Camilla's ass, and began fingering her asshole while licking the come off her pussy. Cameron just watched and smiled.

"I thought...you were...a lesbian, Belle," Camilla said between licks of Belle's hard clitoris. "Why'd you let...my old teachers...stick their cocks...in you?"

"They jumped me," Belle sighed. "This is hell; what do...you expect? After a...while in here, you'll actually get...used to...being gang-raped, if you...can believe that. Oh! I miss...your mouth!"

Dora reached over, took Camilla's head in her hands, and lifted it up. They pecked each other gently on the lips while Camilla fingered Belle's twat.

"Our only...happiness is...sex," Dora said between kisses. "Sex with...whoever's available."

"You all look...so different with...my black hair, black eyes, and pale skin," Camilla observed while still kissing Dora.

"No," Veronica said in sighs while slipping her whole fist inside Camilla's pussy and licking her asshole. "We all...look the same...with you black...and white."

Their licking became quicker, the fingering and fisting more vigorous, and their lustful sighs, squeals, and screams louder and higher-pitched. Soon, Belle gushed her orgasm in Camilla's wide-open mouth, some come dribbling over the sides; Camilla came all over Veronica's fist, and Belle licked away Dora's orgasmic drippings.

"Please, Camilla," Candice implored. "Stop this. Let's go."

Do you want to be a whore forever? Armand's disembodied voice could be heard to say, out from the world of the living. Like your mother?

"No!" Camilla shouted, coming to her senses. Then she quickly got up and ran for the stairs to the third floor. Cameron followed her, eagerly hoping to watch her fuck many more men.

"Hey!" Veronica complained. "What about me, Camilla? You didn't lick me!"

"Sorry," Camilla said, reaching the stairs. "Gotta go."

"No, Camilla," Don said. "Come up with us, not down."

"Yes, down!" Camilla insisted, descending the stairs.

On the third floor was another large, dark, circular room lit up only by candlesticks. Again, it was filled with naked people, the spirits of many more of Camilla's dead old lovers. Tina, one of Camilla's old high school classmates who had lesbian feelings for her, and Sandy, one of the strippers who were murdered in the mansion on Grouse Mountain, were squatting over Mr. Leroy and Clarence, respectively, about to give them golden showers.

Dr. Martin, Mr. Hanson, Carl, Danny, and Tom, the aboriginal man who was killed in the mansion with Sandy, were also there.

"Camilla," Hanson said. "Come piss on us, Goddess. Make us holy with your holes."

Missing the old days when she'd been worshipped, Camilla quickly gave into temptation again. She squatted over Hanson's face and began pissing. He thrilled once again to feeling that golden juice sprinkling all over his nose, squinting eyes, cheeks, and lips. The last time he'd indulged in this fetish was in the aquarium, when his spirit was under her as she pissed into the water tank below her floating naked body. Cameron stood nearby and watched with a grin.

Tina and Sandy were now pissing too, soaking the chests of Leroy and Clarence in their golden juice. The men just smiled and watched the yellow waterfalls, ogling the girls' pussies. Leroy reached up, cupped Tina's buttocks in his hands, and opened them wide so he could see her asshole. He licked his lips and fingered it.

Dr. Martin, Carl, and Danny were getting impatient.

"What about us?" Carl said angrily. "Save some piss for us."

"OK," Camilla said, and she, Tina, and Sandy shifted over to those three men: Camilla squatted over Carl, Tina over Danny, and Sandy over Dr. Martin. In hell, they could continue pissing indefinitely, so the three men would get as thorough a soaking as Hanson, Clarence, and Leroy had gotten.

As Carl felt Camilla's piss soaking his chest and face, he remembered back when she'd posed for him in his Vancouver studio, back behind the shop area where he sold his erotic paintings and drawings. She had to pee, and when he held a bowl for her to urinate in, some of her piss sprayed on his hand. He enjoyed that, but had never got another chance to be pissed on by her until now, in hell. He just looked up at her spouting urethra and smiled.

Dr. Martin opened Sandy's big, round butt-cheeks to see her asshole as she showered piss on his chest. I like Camilla's better, he thought. My religious skepticism was partly right: though Camilla is certainly a goddess, and I have been surrounded by devils here in hell, there surely is no God.

Sandy farted audibly. "Oh, no," she said. "Not again! I gotta take a shit." Coprophiliac Martin enjoyed the smell, all the same.

"And you shall take a shit," said a masked man who'd just entered the room. "Everyone follow me."




Camilla Ch. 118



He took them all into a neighbouring room. There were three bowls on the floor: Camilla, Tina, and Sandy were made to squat over them. Martin stood behind Tina, Danny behind Sandy, and Leroy behind Camilla. The girls began shitting thick logs into the bowls: Martin and Leroy licked their lips as they watched the turds slide out of Tina's and Camilla's pretty assholes.

Looking behind her to see Leroy's salacious smile, Camilla thought, I knew he'd enjoy this.

When the girls finished shitting, they picked up their bowls and walked over to a table where there sat Clarence, Tom, and the other black men who'd been killed in the mansion on Grouse Mountain. Paul, Camilla's lover in Thailand, the one who ate her chocolate-tasting shit in the toilet in the hotel room, was also there. The naked men had forks in their hands.

"I hope these will taste as good as your shit did, Camilla," Paul said with a bitter look in his eyes. Camilla shuddered at the memory he was alluding to.

The girls laid their bowls before the men, who stabbed their forks in the turds and gluttonously began shoving them in their mouths, as though they were eating brownies. The masked man laughed at the men's powerlessness to resist eating, and he led the girls into another room, where there were showers.

Dr. Martin, Mr. Hanson, Carl, and Mr. Leroy were already there, washing the girls' piss off themselves. The girls cleaned themselves, too, and then they were led by the masked man into another room.

"OK, girls," the masked man said. "Let the licking begin." The girls got on the floor on all fours, in a triangle position, so each girl would have a pussy and an asshole in her face. Camilla tongued Sandy's vaginal opening and fingered her anus; Sandy licked Tina's pussy, fingering her clit; and Tina sucked on Camilla's rock-hard clitoris while sliding her finger gently in and out of Camilla's cunt. Cameron came into the room to watch, paying particular attention to his wife's licking and fingering abilities.

Carl went over to Camilla, aiming his cock at her mouth. Cameron was especially pleased to see this. Camilla stopped licking Sandy's pussy and took Carl's cock in her wet mouth; she compensated Sandy by carefully sliding her fist in Sandy's cunt. Looking up submissively in Carl's eyes as she blew him, she used her eyes to ask him how her salivating lips were pleasing him. He looked down at her and smiled as he saw her lips and tongue caressing his shaft.

Masked Ted Weinstein came into the room and stood by Camilla, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. He took off his mask to reveal who he was. "How about a hand-job, Camilla?" he asked.

While being gang-banged in the Montreal aquarium, Camilla had relived her old memories with a heightened consciousness, thanks to Eros' having transferred his psychic energy into her, an energy whose superior power had made it possible for Camilla to break through the psychic blocks the masked men had put on her to make her forget all that they had been planning. She already knew that Ted had joined the masked men, so she wasn't at all shocked to see his face behind that mask. All the same, she acquiescently took his cock in her hand and began jerking him off, since she saw no way to fight him, or any of her tormentors. Her only way out was through the darkest levels of hell, through the ouroboros' tail and into its biting head, and thence into heaven.

"There's a...good girl," Ted said in sighs. "Still compliant; I like that. No hard...feelings about me...being a...masked man?" She tried to ignore him as best she could.

Agape, Don, and Candice just watched the orgy helplessly, still blocked by the same psychic barrier the masked men had put up, but which was now modified to make communication with Camilla impossible. Even Armand's voice couldn't be heard. Her friends fought hard to chisel at that barrier.

Happy to please Carl, one of her favourite lovers, and truly sorry that her lust had brought him down to hell, Camilla worked hard to make use of the best of her cock-sucking talents. She licked, kissed, and gently nibbled on the tip of his cock, while tickling his scrotum with her fingers. She slid her tongue along his protruding corpus spongiosum, shaping her tongue like a U and hugging the bulging tube on the underside of his cock. He came in her mouth, and she swallowed most of it, though some dribbled down to her chin.

Clarence, the two other black men, Paul, and Tom entered the room, having cleaned their mouths of the shit they'd just eaten. They all waited for the girls to finish their lesbian licking.

Ted came all over Camilla's hand, and as he put his cock back in his pants, Camilla brought her face back to Sandy's ass. Camilla gently slid her fist all the way in and half-way out of Sandy's cunt; meanwhile, she kept her tongue busy by tickling Sandy's asshole with its tip. Ted left the room, looking for other lovers elsewhere.

Camilla's pussy was tingling from Tina's sucking on her clit and swollen labia; Tina's finger was quickly vibrating inside Camilla's vagina, making her G-spot go wild. Pretty soon, Camilla came all over Tina's face. Tina in turn orgasmed, and Sandy liked away the ooze. Moaning and squealing from the sensations of Camilla's probing fist, Sandy soon came all over it. Camilla pulled her fist out and licked Sandy's come off it. Cameron's cheeks never got tired from smiling so much at what he was seeing.

Now that the lesbian sex was over, the waiting men wanted to have a go with the three girls. Leroy, Hanson, Paul, and Dr. Martin took Camilla; Clarence, Carl, and Tom took Tina; and the other black men had Sandy.

Leroy got under Camilla, who was still on all fours; he slid his long, thick cock in her happy pussy. Dr. Martin aimed his cock for her ever-lubricated asshole, slowly and gently pushing it in. Hanson stuffed his cock in her mouth. As all three holes got a most vigorous workout, Paul stood there disappointed.

"Hey!" he complained. "I wanted to have her asshole. I haven't licked that beautiful hole in ages."

She reached up and took his cock in her hand, then fondled it into a full erection. He was now satisfied.

"You are...such sweet candy, Camilla," Leroy grunted. "Oh!"

"It was...your thing...for junk food...that got you here," Camilla moaned. "Ah!"

"Junk food may...have contributed to...my death, but your lust...is what brought...me to hell," he corrected. "Unh!"

Though Leroy's cock felt great in her pussy, his words only added to her guilt.

Tina lay on her back, with her spread-out legs pulled up and over so both her pussy and asshole were accessible. Carl slid his cock in her her cunt, Clarence put his eight-inch cock in her mouth, and Tom pushed his cock inside her asshole. As her holes got stretched open, her screams were muffled by the cock in her mouth.

Sandy had a black cock in her mouth and in her pussy: she immediately went to work pleasing her men. As she looked up and smiled lewdly at the man she was blowing, she thought, I may never have gotten my daughter the money she needed to get a better education, but at least she isn't down here with me in hell. The cock in her pussy felt so good, she could almost forget she was in hell.

Agape, Don, and Candice continued cutting their way through the psychic barrier; they were almost all the way through now.

Leroy had made Camilla come three times; the floor, like Leroy's groin area, was drenched in a lake of her cooze. Paul came all over her hand, so he went over to her ass, hoping Martin would be finished soon. He was, and as soon as he pulled his cock out of Camilla's ass, Paul shoved him out of the way so he could start licking it. Happy to see that Martin hadn't come in her, Paul started licking and kissing her asshole as energetically as he had back on that boat in Thailand.

Leroy pulled his cock out of her pussy, and he got up and joined Carl and Dr. Martin in a circle around her head. The men masturbated over her face, and in a few seconds, they sprayed bukkake all over Camilla's eyes, nose, cheeks, and lips. She giggled, hoping the pleasure she was giving them would help atone for her having caused them all to go to hell.

Tina's and Sandy's lovers had also pulled their cocks out of the girls' holes, and had stood in circles around them, masturbating and shooting bukkake all over their faces.

Finally, Camilla's friends broke through the psychic barrier, and were able to communicate with Camilla again.

"Camilla!" Candice shouted. "Do you want to be doing this forever? I thought you wanted to save yourself!"

"But this...is what...I am," Camilla said in moans, feeling the men's come drip off her face, still conflicted, and battling temptation.

"All this fucking is compulsive, and without joy," Candice insisted. "It's a meaningless pursuit of pleasure, over and over again, with no lasting satisfaction, and no peace. It's so redundant, Camilla. You just do the same thing, again and again. Fucking and sucking, fucking and sucking, fucking and sucking. How many times do you have to get off before you'll finally say, 'OK, I've had enough'?"

It's like what your mother used to do, Armand's voice reminded Camilla.

Remembering her shame, and seeing how going lower just increased her temptation, Camilla said, "OK, I'll try going up with you."

"Good," her father said. "You won't regret it." He took her arm and got her on her feet.

"Hey!" Paul shouted. "I was eating that girl's butt out. Wait your turn!" Before he knew it, though, she was already out of the room and going up the stairs.

Her friends quickly got her up to the fourth floor, hoping to get her higher before more distractions could tempt her. As soon as they got her to the top of the stairs to the fourth floor, however, she saw beautiful Veronica, lying on the floor on her back with her legs spread wide open.

Licking her lips, Camilla said, "I can't resist." She dove on Veronica's muff and began eating away. On all fours with her butt pushed out and her legs spread so her pussy and asshole were showing, Camilla invited anyone nearby to have a taste.

Belle saw Camilla, and dove on her ass, quickly replacing Paul as her ass-licker; she gently slid her whole hand inside Camilla's wet pussy. Belle's other hand reached over and fondled Camilla's tit. Mr. Berman also saw Camilla, and went over to her. She saw him coming, and raised her hand to take his cock in it. She gently stroked it till it was fully erect.

Candice, Don, and Agape grabbed Camilla, trying to pull her away.

"Hey!" Berman shouted, grabbing Camilla's arm so her friends wouldn't be able to free her. "I'm having her now!"

"Have someone else," Agape said. "My daughter...is not...for you."

"Oh, yeah, the anti-Semite father!" Berman said, still trying to keep Camilla from getting free, as were Belle and Veronica. "Fuck you!"

"This isn't...about your ethnicity anymore," Agape said, still pulling. "And I'm sorry...about my...former prejudice. But we want...to save Camilla...from herself."

"There is...no salvation," said Belle, holding Camilla's legs and not letting go. "There is...no escape...from here!"

"Yes, there is," said Don. Finally, the combined strength of Don, Candice, and Agape pulled Camilla free from Belle, Veronica, and Mr. Berman. But Camilla was pulled away with such force that she flew in the opposite direction to where her friends were trying to take her; she went back down to the third floor, and even lower, to the second floor. For not only were Belle, Veronica, and Berman trying to keep Camilla from going up: so were the masked men, who had used their psychic power to catapult Camilla back down lower, into greater temptations, and greater suffering.

She fell on the floor of another large, candle-lit, circular room, and was greeted by more lesbians from her past: Calina and Mercedes.

"Calina, Mercedes," Camilla said to them as they approached. "I can't get used to everyone here with black hair, black eyes, and pale skin. You, too? We all look the same." Camilla stood up.

"That's Nigrovum's effect on all of us," Mercedes said, pressing her big bust against Camilla's and kissing her on the cheek. "The little black eggs in our blood all look the same, and they're absorbing us into them."

Calina joined them, rubbing her big breasts against Camilla's left arm and fondling her ass. "I miss making love with you, Camilla."

"I miss...your brown hair, and yours, too, Mercedes," Camilla sighed, pecking Calina on the lips.

"We miss...your blonde hair...and blue eyes," Calina said, fingering Camilla's wet pussy.

The girls got down on the floor, Camilla on all fours behind the ass of Mercedes, who was also on all fours; Calina lay on her back with her legs spread out wide, and Mercedes put her face in Calina's hairy black bush. Camilla put her index and long fingers inside Mercedes's purple cunt, and greedily tongued her wrinkly asshole.

Coming up behind Camilla was the naked, fat manager of Lehar's, the Vancouver restaurant where she went on a date with Leo, the brother of photographer Bob. Seeing her ass pushed out and her legs wide open, the fat man admired her asshole, and aimed his little dick at it.

Still licking Mercedes's asshole, Camilla squealed as she felt the manager's dick slide inside her asshole. Psychically sensing who he was, she quickly remembered the feeling of that dick in her mouth when she blew him in that back room in Lehar's. She enjoyed the anal massage just as Mercedes was enjoying the anal massage she was getting from Camilla's agile tongue.

Both Calina's and Mercedes's pussies were getting wetter and wetter: Mercedes was sucking Calina's clitoris and fingering her G-spot, just as Camilla was tickling Mercedes's G-spot and pushing her long finger up the vaginal curve and against Mercedes's A-spot.

With her other hand, Camilla fingered her pussy, tickling her clitoris and sliding a finger in her vagina. As she pleasured Mercedes, she thought about another girl she hadn't made love to in a really long time: Candice. Camilla longed for the touch of her old friend, her best friend and first--and best-ever--lesbian lover. Camilla rued how she'd allowed herself to grow apart from Candice, and had hurt her so by being unfaithful.

Camilla briefly looked up at the ceiling of the room, and saw the floating spirit of Candice there, next to her father and Don, all old lovers from happier times. They were trying to break through another psychic barrier the masked men had built to keep Camilla from being rescued. She noted Candice's restored red hair and green eyes, and wished the same restoration could have been done to her and to all her lovers in the hellish realms. Similarly, Agape and Don had their original body colours, with no zombie-like 'Goth' look. Of course, Candice, Agape, and Don were also the only clothed ones in the room, apart from the masked men in their black suits and grotesque masks of Greek comic actors.

Camilla sensed her hovering friends' peace of mind, troubled only by her ever-struggling soul. She remembered Candice's words: "Your fucking is compulsive, and without joy...You just do the same thing...over and over again...Fucking and sucking, fucking and sucking, fucking and sucking..." She then remembered Mr. Baker's words from long ago, in his suicide note: "All sex and no love make Camilla a scarlet young woman." He, who committed suicide because she'd broken his heart, and passed maddening Nigrovum onto him.

With renewed pangs of guilt, Camilla used her willpower to pull herself away from Mercedes, who'd just come on Camilla's probing fingers. The fat manager pulled his dick out of her ass and was about to come on her buttocks when she got up and ran for the stairs to the first floor, hoping to find a room of pain and torture to assuage her of her guilt. Don, Agape, and Candice followed her after breaking through the psychic barrier.

On the first floor was another large, circular dark room, lit only by tall candlesticks.

She saw Mr. Fulson, one of her old high school teachers, and three lovers whose hearts she'd broken: Akemi, Sean, and Mr. Baker. They all rushed at her. They grabbed her and laid her on her back on the floor, pushing up her spread-out legs so both her pussy and asshole would be accessible. Cameron stood by, watching with a smile.

She could feel the anger of her scorned former lovers, and she welcomed it, hoping for an aggressive, punishing fuck to relieve her of her guilt. An aggressive fuck is exactly what she got.

Akemi sat on Camilla's face, psychically controlling her tongue to lick her twat exactly as she liked it. Sean sat on Camilla's chest, putting his cock between her breasts and squeezing them around it. Baker and Fulson rammed their cocks up her wet pussy and ever-lubed ass, respectively but not respectfully. Another lover from the past came over: Hank, the man in the cowboy costume from Mr. Berman's Halloween party. Hank grabbed her hand and wrapped her fingers around his hard cock. She began wanking him.

"Ah!" Camilla screamed in pain from Baker's and Fulson's ramming.

"Would you...prefer me...in a dress, Goddess?" Sean sarcastically asked in moans as he slid his hard cock between her soft, smooth breasts. "Wanna watch...the masked men...sodomize me, and force-feed me...their cocks? I'll be...doing that...pretty soon, you bitch! Unh!"

The only answer she could give was moans as she was forced by Akemi to continue sucking on her swollen labia and tonguing her wet vagina.

The stabbing of those cocks inside her holes softened into more fucking pleasure as her pussy got predictably wetter and wetter, and as she almost happily accepted her punishment, feeling her guilt dissolve into desire.

As much as Sean, Baker, Fulson, Hank, and Akemi were mad at Camilla for destroying their lives, they were thrilled to be enjoying her body again, if only a 'spiritual' version of her body. Sean enjoyed the softness and smoothness of her breasts as his cock slid up and down between them. Baker liked the feeling of Camilla's wet cunt, but looked up at Hank and envied the hand-job she was giving him. Knowing that her hand would make him come much more assuredly than her pussy, he pulled his cock out and stood up.

"Hey, you wanna trade places?" he asked Hank.

"Sure!" Hank said, enthusiastically going down on Camilla while Baker took her hand and put it on his cock. Hank shoved his cock inside her pussy, punching her pussy with the tip of his cock and making her flood her come all over his balls. "Oh!"

Wracked with guilt over breaking Baker's heart, she used extra special sensitivity as she stroked his cock, getting him much harder, and much quicker. Within a minute, he came all over her hand. Spent, he left the room.

Fulson was still enjoying her tight anal lips around his rock-hard shaft, sliding in and out faster and faster. Akemi, now much more sexually experienced from having been in gang-bangs for years in the hellish realms, knew in her debauched state exactly how she liked a tongue to lick her, and lips to kiss and suck on her; and she took total control over Camilla's mouth, making it her pussy's slave.




Camilla Ch. 118



Another psychic barrier was keeping Don, Agape, and Candice from freeing Camilla, though they had cut almost all the way through it.

Soon, Akemi came, and Camilla drank up every drop of the Japanese-Canadian's secretion. Sean shot his come all over Camilla's face after Akemi got up and left; he then stood up and walked out of the room, too. Fulson and Hank pulled their cocks out of Camilla's asshole and pussy, and blew their loads all over her belly and breasts.

No sooner did those two men start walking away from come-drenched Camilla, but four more angry ex-lovers got their hands on her: Bob and Geoff, her old porno photographers, Russell from Australia, and Chris, who ate her ass out in Dr. Cage's classroom many years back. Dr. Lee, another old prof of hers, came by for a hand-job.

Not even bothering to get up off the floor, Camilla, in most willing submission, took Geoff's cock in her mouth and Lee's in the hand that had just jerked off Baker.

"Just like...old times, eh, Camilla?" Geoff moaned as his cock went all the way in her deep-throating mouth. "Wanna get...pregnant again? I remember...how sexy...you were...when you...were expecting, and me...taking pictures...of you. Ah!"

"I remember the first time I saw these tits," Russell said as he put his cock between them. "It was on...the beach in Bali. A great time...had by all. Oh! Too bad...you killed me...like you killed...those innocent Muslims."

Bob slid his dick in her ever-wet pussy. "If only...I still had...that POV camera; we could film this. Unh! An Orgy In Hell: good name...for the movie, Camil? Oh!"

Chris shoved his cock in her asshole. "I remember licking...and kissing...this butt-hole...in Dr. Cage's classroom, during the Chaucer lecture. What fun, acting out...the story of...'The Miller's Tale'! Unh! I also remember...you killing me...with your come. Ah!"

I deserve this, Camilla thought, sliding her lips up and down Geoff's shaft and accepting her degradation without complaint. My lust killed them all. May I get to rock bottom fast, then be saved and redeemed at last, as Daddy, Don, Candice, Ravinder, and Mr. Pierce were.

Russell squeezed Camilla's breasts as tightly around his cock as he could, pumping away and approaching orgasm. Bob thrust his cock faster and more aggressively inside her ever-coming cunt, and Chris admired the sight of her black anal lips, tightly sealed around his dick. Lee enjoyed her gentle caressing of his erection.

Just when Russell came all over Camilla's already come-soaked tits, Don, Agape, and Candice broke through the masked men's barrier and reached for the gang-banged girl. Her friends tried pulling her up off the ground, but her angry lovers kept pushing her down for more fucking.

"Hey!" Geoff shouted when Camilla's mouth was taken away from his cock. "I'm not done with her yet! Wait your turn!"

"Oh, yes you are, all done with her!" said Agape, pulling on her arms to get her free.

"No, we're not!" shouted Bob, just about to come.

"She's coming with us, not on your balls!" Candice yelled, pulling on Camilla's legs.

The struggling back and forth continued for several more seconds before her friends were finally able to pull her free, but with such force that she flew up with them back to the second floor.

Up there, Wayne, Mr. Gray, Mr. Chen, Patrick, and Dr. Alex McVie were waiting for their delayed turn to gang-bang Camilla.

They got her on all fours: Wayne stood before her, pointing his dick at her receptive mouth; Mr. Chen slipped his little pecker in her ass, massaging it gently as the Lehar's manager had done; Alex went under her, shoving his cock in her pussy and feeling her tits. Disappointed that he couldn't have Camilla jump up and wrap her legs around his waist, like old times, Mr. Gray had to settle for her right armpit, and put his dick in there. She reached up and offered Patrick's cock her hand. Cameron came up into the room to watch.

"That's my girl," Wayne moaned as she sucked his cock with her usual virtuosity. "I taught...you well. Oh!"

Thank you for demanding such high standards from me, she mentally communicated as she looked up lovingly in his eyes. I hope you get a chance to fuck my poo-hole later; you too, Patrick.

"That hole's mine...for now," Mr. Chen grunted, happy to have been the one to break her corn-hole in back when he'd hired her as a stripper in Luvlee's. "Ooh!"

"Since I know...you like...to be raped," Alex groaned as he rammed his cock in her pussy as violently as he could, "I'm giving it...to you as...rough as...I can. Ah!"

"Why did I...have to be last...to get here?" Patrick sighed. "I wanted...to fuck...your pretty ass. Unh! Oh, well: your hand...makes me think...of when you...fondled my crotch...when I had...my first...lap-dances with you. Oh!"

Just then, the ghost of Patrick's wife ran over to him. "You were supposed to be with me!" she shouted. "Comforting me here in hell, not enjoying her!"

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, saddened to see the pain in her jealous eyes. "She's so...irresistible! Ah!" He came all over Camilla's hand.

"You were supposed to love her, and marry her," his wife said with teary eyes. "That was supposed to be your redemption for cheating on me!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him away, taking him into another room.

Camilla's guilt feelings came back with a sharp sting to see Patrick's hurt wife for the first time. Then Agape, Don, and Candice came up the stairs to find her, after having been restrained by the psychic power of the masked men again. Her friends once again grabbed her, struggling to free her from her lovers, pulling in the direction of the stairway down to the first floor. Her lovers were pulling in the opposite direction.

"Wait a minute!" Wayne shouted, pulling back on her arms. "We haven't come yet!" She tried to keep his cock in her mouth, flickering her tongue rapidly to get him closer to orgasm.

"When we do, then you can have her!" Alex yelled, annoyed that his dick slipped out of her pussy in the tug-of-war.

Mr. Chen's dick slipped out of her asshole, and in the pulling one way and the other, he ruptured himself against her left buttock. "Oww! Hao tong! (That hurts!)"

Agape, Don, and Candice summoned all their strength to free Camilla, and finally they pulled her away from the naked men; she flew down the stairs and beyond the first floor, and down another flight of stairs to basement one.

Down there, in yet another large, dark, circular room, were Desiree, the stripper from Club Ritz, Mr. Patterson, Sam, Mr. Grisham, and Mr. Finch, all naked and ready for sex. Camilla lay on the floor on her back, as eager for another good lay as she was to let her angry former lovers have a chance to abuse her, and thus assuage her of her guilt some more. Cameron came down, stood by, and watched, licking his lips.

Desiree sat on her face; her hairy pussy tickled.

Reminds me of back when I used to eat her out onstage during our floorshows, Camilla thought, slipping her tongue inside Desiree's vagina. Candice was so jealous.

Patterson sat on Camilla's chest, wrapping her tits around his cock. Grisham and Finch pushed her legs up so they could get to her pussy and asshole, into which they respectively shoved their cocks. Sam, once again annoyed that Camilla preferred the other men to him, had no choice but to settle for getting jerked off.

M. Larre came over and aimed his cock for Desiree's mouth; she gladly opened wide and flickered her tongue against the underside of his cock as he slid it in. Both women squealed and screamed as their pussies tingled and vibrated with pleasure. Camilla came all over Grisham's and Finch's groins. Larre watched her ejaculation in awe. "Just like...old times, eh, girls?" Larre asked in moans. "Oh! Like in the...parties we had...in that big house. Unh!"

The girls moaned their agreement. Larre reached down and fondled Desiree's firm tits as she continued blowing him.

As Patterson slid his cock up and down Camilla's chest, enjoying her soft, smooth breasts around his cock, he sighed, "This was once...the little girl who...tried to...unbutton my shirt...in class. You were...always naughty, Camilla. Oh!"

Though Finch enjoyed sliding his cock in and out of her tight asshole, he looked over longingly at the tits Patterson was enjoying. "Oh, I want those," Finch moaned. "Unh! Hey, wanna trade? Her tits...for her asshole?"

"Sure," Patterson said, and they quickly swapped positions.

Instead of fucking Camilla's tits, Finch grabbed them and squeezed away, just like back when he'd had her in her old elementary school, and his wife caught them together. Still jacking Sam off, Camilla reached over with her other hand and fondled Finch's dick. Though his squeezing hands hurt her tits, Camilla patiently endured it, since the pain seemed to make some of her guilt dissolve away.

As Grisham fucked Camilla's pussy, which had just come a second time, he said, "Oh, Camilla, why did you...have to have...so many...other lovers? I should never...have dumped you. Oh! Then it would...have been just...you and me...here in hell. Unh! With no other...men to...share you with."

So, I'm not the only one with regrets, Camilla thought.

Soon, everyone else started coming: Desiree gushed all over Camilla's face, then took Larre's cock out of her mouth and got up so he could shoot his come on Camilla's face, too. Sam and Finch came on her hands, Patterson and Grisham pulled their cocks out of her holes and came all over her tits and belly. Camilla was so flooded with come, she seemed more fully dressed than her friends, who were struggling to get through another of the masked men's psychic barriers and get to her.

"Nigrovum rained on the earth from heaven, just like how we just came all over you, Camilla," Finch observed.

"Nigrovum, the Sons of God, rained blessings on mankind," Grisham added. "Remember that old heresy?"

"How blessed do you feel, Camilla?" Desiree taunted through her heavy breathing.

Remembering only her mounting guilt, Camilla thought, I deserve this. She got up, and saw the stairway to basement two.

Don, Agape, and Candice had just broken through the psychic barrier; they went over to get Camilla and bring her up to the higher floors, but she'd already begun running to that stairway leading down.

To be saved, I must endure the worst, she thought.

Her friends followed her down the stairs to basement two, where Drs. Lawson and Abruzzi were waiting for her, along with Miles Holland, her old boss in the Toronto electronics company, and Garth Van Duyne, someone she never wanted touching her body again. Still, she had to endure the worst, so she'd even put up with him fucking her. Gregg, Patrick's friend, was waiting for her with them, too.

They lay her on her back. Dr. Lawson aimed his cock for her already wide-open mouth; Abruzzi squatted on her chest, putting his cock between her tits; Holland slid his cock in her pussy; and Van Duyne psychically lubricated her asshole, then shoved his cock in. She took Gregg's cock in her hand and began jerking. As the men fucked her, they shouted out obscenities and blasphemies to express both their lust and anger over their damnation.

"Yeah, go to work, bitch!" Lawson growled as his cock slid in and out of her watering mouth. "Too bad...you don't have...that sexy spandex...grey outfit...to strip out of. I would have...enjoyed seeing...that again. Oh!"

"I remember...the first time...you turned me on...with these titties," Abruzzi grunted. "At that...wine and...cheese party...at York. Ah! You were wearing...that revealing dress...and showing off...your cleavage. You tempted...me down here, you fucking whore! God damn you!"

"Don't...blame everything...on her," Van Duyne said as his cock went in and out of her ass. "My masked friends...and I...were responsible...for a lot...of what's happening here. Unh!"

"Fuck you!" shouted Holland, ramming his cock aggressively in her coming cunt. "We should...rape you...and your masked...friends instead. Oh!"

"Be thankful...we don't rape you," Van Duyne warned. "We own hell, not you. Oh!"

Gregg sprayed his come all over Camilla's dripping wet hand; Lawson came in her mouth, with a little of his come dribbling out the sides; Abruzzi came all over her tits; and Holland and Van Duyne pulled their cocks out of her holes, blowing their loads all over her belly. Her friends, having just broken through yet another psychic barrier, came over and pulled her lovers off her body.

Another pair of hands helped: those of Mrs. Holland, who angrily grabbed her unfaithful husband, pulled him away, and started hitting him with a frying pan. "Come with me, you little bastard!"

"You leave him alone, you bitch!" Camilla screamed as Agape, Don, and Candice carried her back towards the stairs leading up to basement one.

"Mind your own business, you whore!" Mrs. Holland shouted back, hitting Miles again. "It's your fucking fault we're all in this hell!"

Camilla struggled to get free of her friends so she could help her old boss, but they carried her up the stairs. If only my problems could now be as simple as they had been back then, when we were all alive, she thought.

Back on basement one, Camilla's friends hurried to get her to the stairs to the first floor, but more old lovers of hers grabbed her and took her away from them. Another, even more powerful psychic barrier separated Agape, Don, and Candice from Mr. Dawson, Mr. Keyes, Leo, and Dr. Davis. Vicky, the aboriginal woman killed in the Grouse Mountain mansion, was with them, too.

Camilla was on all fours. Her two lovers in the old elementary school had the upper part of her body: Dawson receiving a blow job, and Keyes underneath her, fondling and sucking her tits. Vicky was licking her pussy while Leo shoved his cock up Camilla's ass. Vicky was also on all fours, and Dr. Davis was giving it to her doggy-style. Camilla was giving her old psychiatrist, Dr. Mason, a hand-job while he fondled Vicky's tits. Camilla's other hand jerked off Keyes.

"This native...is hot," Davis moaned as he fucked her tight pussy. "She reminds me...of those old...Hyapatia Lee movies...I used to...jerk off to. Ah!"

"Oh, this beautiful asshole," Leo moaned as he fucked Camilla's ass. "I still remember...the first time...I saw it, when you stripped...for me...in my brother's home...and he took...pictures of you...for your porn site. Oh!"

"You coming...to our school...in Vancouver," Keyes said between sucks of Camilla's right nipple, "and us coming up...behind you, and feeling you up...as I am, now. What memories." He was pinching the nipple of her other tit as he caressed it.

"They're only memories now," Dawson said, sighing as her wet lips and tongue danced all over his dick.

"Only bad memories...for me," Vicky said between licks of Camilla's swollen labia. Vicky gently rubbed her finger against Camilla's rock-hard clitoris, and a waterfall of come soon flooded Vicky's face. Dawson came in Camilla's deep-throating mouth soon after, and her two hands were then drenched in the come of Mason's and Keyes' cocks. Leo pulled his cock out of her ass, and he rained his come all over her buttocks. Then Davis pulled his cock out of Vicky and came on her ass. Finished with Camilla, all her lovers left her and went into another room, in search for more lovers.

Camilla went into a quiet room and found petite, little Li-ping hiding there, trembling and sobbing while lying on the floor in the fetal position. Using Nigrovum to make all the come that was dripping off her body disappear, Camilla squatted down and looked in the frightened Asian's beautiful eyes. She put her arms around Li-ping.

"Let me take away your pain, in the best way I know how," Camilla said, kissing her gently on the cheek. "Let's make love, Li-ping--forever, and ever, and ever. Remember saying that to me, in my dreams?"

"Yeah, but I no want to," Li-ping said, still trembling and sobbing. "I so scared. Always raped. Why you have to bring this hell on all of us?"

"I'm so sorry, baby," Camilla said, gently kissing her on the lips and rocking her shaking little body back and forth. "I never meant for you all to be hurt. I'll be gentle with you: no violence, I promise."

Camilla opened Li-ping's legs slowly, patiently allowing the frightened Taiwanese girl to overcome her timidity. Then Camilla buried her face in the girl's hairy pussy. Li-ping's sobs soon changed to sighs, since Camilla's expert tongue and lips went way beyond healing the many injuries to Li-ping's vaginal walls, using Nigrovum not only to heal the cuts and sores, but to electrify the girl's G-spot in a way she hadn't enjoyed since when she was back in Taiwan, with her old boyfriend. After several minutes of sighing from Camilla's tickling tongue and kissing lips, Li-ping came.

That was beautiful, Camilla thought as she sat up and looked in Li-ping's much happier eyes. And I did it here in hell, of all places. Nigrovum can still be used for good, in a sexual context.

Suddenly, Larre, Marcel, Brad (her lecherous old York classmate), and Mr. Tremblay--the French teacher who saw her nude in a Vancouver park during her photo shoot with Bob--barged in the room and surprised them.

"No!" Li-ping screamed. "No rape me again! Please!"

Camilla jumped up. "Guys, take me instead. Don't hurt her."

"Oh, come on, Camilla," Larre said. "You know just as well as we know, and she knows, that sex gives the only happiness here. Get out of the way." The men grabbed Li-ping, who struggled futilely to get free of them.

"Wait! No!" Camilla shouted. "You bastards! No!" She tried doing a few tae kwon do kicks, but the masked men put up yet another barrier to stop her from fighting with Li-ping's rapists. They dragged the poor Asian out of the room, and all Camilla could do was stand there and watch the girl's suffering in the other room, the door not even closed to spare Camilla the horror of seeing the imminent gang-bang. "This is all my fault. My lust made her suffer. My lust turned those men into monsters."

Camilla now ran out of the room and down those stars to basement two again. Mrs. Holland had just finished beating her husband with the frying pan; he was on the floor, curled in a ball, shaking and moaning in pain.

"You bitch!" Camilla screamed, punching Miles' abusive wife in the gut, then taking the frying pan out of her hand and hitting her on the back several times with it. "How do you like being beaten, you cunt!"




Camilla Ch. 118



Mrs. Holland fell to the floor, then Camilla dropped the pan and ran towards the stairs to basement three. She hurried down the stairs.

There, in another dark, circular room were the four Vancouver punks, licking their lips and ready to fuck.

"Get ready for the worst rape in history, big titty bitch!" the leader of the punks said.

"We're gonna tear you a new cunt, a new asshole, and a new mouth," said the second punk.

"You'll be Swiss cheese within ten minutes," the third punk said. They all laughed.

"Here, we have multiple orgasms, and we'll rape you forever, with no breaks!" said the fourth.

Ms. Callahan came by and watched with a bitter smile. "I warned you, Camilla," she said, "sooner or later, you'd be forced to fuck those you didn't like."

Good, she thought. I deserve it. I especially deserve it, if Li-ping has to be gang-raped forever. I led all these people down here, including my son, if I can find him. Let me endure the worst, so I'll finally be redeemed. I'm ready. She lay on her back on the floor.

The leader shoved his dick in her mouth, as if he'd punched her in the face; two of the other boys similarly penetrated her pussy and ass; the fourth boy grabbed her tits and wrapped them around his cock so aggressively that Mr. Finch's touch seemed gentle in comparison. As they stabbed her with their cocks, her screams of pain were muffled by the cock in her mouth. Blood poured out of her cunt and asshole.

As they continued to gang-rape her, she could sense the presence of Eros nearby! I felt--I mean, she felt his pain. No longer wanting to be punished, Camilla felt her longing for redemption come in the form of a mother's love for her son.

She struggled and struggled, squealing and kicking.

"Stay still, bitch!" the leader shouted, reaching up to punch her in the face. Stupidly forgetting that his cock was still in her mouth, she bit on it with all of her strength. "Aaaaaah!" he screamed. When she let go, he fell on the floor on his back and cradled what was left of his cock in his hands.

The other three punks wouldn't be so easy to get off of her, for they still had her pinned to the ground. The boy fucking her tits raised up his fist to punch her, then she used Nigrovum to visualize those ear-piercing stars ringing loudly and shrilly against his ear-drums. He immediately put his hands on his ears and got off of her, shouting in pain.

As for the other two boys, she visualized her blood as acidic, though not at all harmful to her body. It immediately burned her pussy fucker's cock and balls off; some of the acidic blood dripped on the cock of her ass-fucker, too. Both boys screamed and fell to the floor, grabbing their castrated crotches.

Watching the whole thing, Callahan smirked and said, "Wow. Impressive." Then she left the room.

Now free of the punks, Camilla got up and rushed into the neighbouring room. There, sure enough, she found Eros' large body pinned down with the collective psychic power of many masked men. His rapists were fucking his mouth and ass, and a third was sucking his dick. Instead of stopping them with his great strength, Eros patiently endured his suffering.

Cameron came down into the room to watch, grinning in anticipation.

"You leave my son alone, you bastards!" she screamed, running at Eros' rapists.

Suddenly, Agape, Don, and Candice appeared, holding Camilla back. Eros, too, was psychically restraining her, so she couldn't get any closer to him.

"Baby?" she said in tears. "Why won't you let Mommy save you?"

"We're trying to save you, Camil," Candice said, "and the world. Remember?"

"Why won't you let us save you?" Don asked.

"Because no mother can bear to stand by and allow her son to be raped; isn't that so, Camilla?" said one of the masked men standing by Eros' rapists. "She knows we want her, not Eros, to rape. We'll gladly give him up to you, Camilla, if you're willing to make the sacrifice."

"Don't do it, Camilla," Agape warned her.

"That's what they want you to do," Don said. "So they can spread your lust and fear-energy into the world of the living, enslaving them and giving the masked men more power."

"We know Eros is weakening our power," the masked man said. "If you leave hell without him, Camilla, we'll brutalize him in unspeakable ways, ways that make these rapes seem like caresses. You don't believe me? Watch." He stabbed a knife deep inside Eros' side; the boy's scream of pain was muffled by the force-fed cock in his mouth.

"No!" Camilla screamed, bawling for her son.

"You must choose, Camilla: him, or you, gang-raped for eternity," the masked man said. "I know you can handle the incessant gang-rapes; your endurance was so impressive in the aquarium. But can you really bear knowing what we'll do to your son if you don't replace him as our bitch? Come on, Camilla: haven't you been selfish enough in your life? All those men and woman dead and suffering here, all because of your unbridled lust?"

"Shut up!" shouted Agape. "You're not raping my daughter!"

"She's suffered, too!" Candice said. "And this is all your fault, not hers!"

"She knows what I'm saying is true, don't you, Camilla?" the masked man asked. "It's time to choose: continue to be selfish, or assuage your guilt and sacrifice yourself, for the first time in your miserable life." He punched Eros in the side, right where the knife-wound was. Eros temporarily swooned.

"Alright! I'll do it," Camilla said, pulling towards Eros to replace him as rape victim. "Let me go!" she shouted at Agape, Don, and Candice.

"No!" her friends shouted together, still holding her back.

She struggled to get free, and some of the masked men pulled her arms to help her get out of the grasp of Don, Agape, and Candice. Eros' rapists pulled their cocks out of his ass and mouth, and his cock-sucker took the boy's cock out of his mouth. They got ready to take Camilla.

The tug-of-war to have Camilla continued for several more seconds, and seemingly out of nowhere, an additional surge of power came to the aid of Camilla and the masked men, pulling her free of Don, Agape, and Candice.

"No!" Camilla's three loved ones screamed as her body flew over and onto Eros', hitting him. A brief sizzling of electricity flashed when their bodies made contact, and the masked men took the nude female and made the nude 18-year-old giant male fly upwards to basement two. Don, Agape, and Candice raced up there.

On basement two, masked men were seen gang-raping a number of familiar male faces. These victims included the three white men, two black men, and Tom, the aboriginal, all killed in the Grouse Mountain mansion. Also being raped were Joey, Sean, Allen, Brian, Alain, Danny, and Chris, all of whom had their faces brightly made up and were wearing high heels, a reminder of the days when many of them were my--I mean, Camilla's priests.

Mr. Berman was being gang-raped, too. "It's just like...when I was...in prison," he grunted in pain. "Ah!"

"This is...worse than what...I suffered...from my father," Alain cried. "Oh!"

"Effeminization," Chris groaned. "All over again. Ah!"

"Humiliation," Sean moaned. "Just like when...Camilla made me...get sodomized...just so I...could fuck her. Unh!"

With her closer psychic connection with all the spirits around her, Camilla could vividly feel all the rape victims' pain. She could feel her guilt growing fat all over her. She was shaking with agitation.

She looked down at her body, and was surprised to see Eros' body instead of mine--I mean, Camilla's. "What the hell?" she said. "I should be down there, being raped by the masked men. Why do I have my son's body?"

Her friends arrived, putting up a powerful psychic barrier, not only to stop the ghosts of her former lovers and the masked men from getting at Camilla, but also to make the following conversation inaudible to them.

"Why do you have his body instead of yours?" Agape said. "Because Eros used his shape-shifting powers to trick the masked men into thinking he is you. He knew, as we all did, that you would never let him be gang-raped, so using Nigrovum to trade bodies with you was the only way he could cheat those bastards into giving you up unwittingly."

"With your body, it will be easier for him," Candice explained. "Having a vagina, he'll be in less pain, and they'll be less rough on him, 'cause they'll think he's you."

"Why didn't he make the switch before," Camilla asked, "when I tried to save him after I'd just died, or when I'd fallen into my coma?"

"Because only now has he lowered the masked men's power to the point of being able to trick them into thinking that you and he are each other," Candice said.

"The best thing of all is that he'll be able to continue his work, changing lust and fear-energy into the energies of love and hope, saving humanity from the masked men's global hegemony," Don said. "His method is subtle and brilliant: the masked men will never know he's converting their evil energy into good. What he does is he takes the extreme energy of selfish desire, at the tip of the tail of the ouroboros, and he shifts it slightly, making the masked men think the desire is moving to a further extreme on the continuum, to more desire. The masked men don't know of the paradoxical, yin/yang nature of all opposites, of how one extreme dissolves into its opposite extreme on the circular continuum, symbolized by the serpent biting its tail. When he shifts the desire along the circular continuum, they think he's using Nigrovum to expand lust into more lust; actually, he's transforming extreme selfishness into extreme selflessness. He does the same with extreme fear and despair: he shifts the energy ever so slightly on the continuum, changing from bitten tail to biting head, from fear to courage, and from despair to hope."

"Of course," Camilla said, remembering her own lecturing on the ouroboros in her McGill classes. "Now it all makes sense."

"It's especially easy for Eros to do it now that he has your ever-wet vagina," Candice said. "He'll seem forever compulsively horny and coming, tricking those bastards, when really he's changing sexual ecstasy into spiritual ecstasy, changing desire to touch bodies into a desire to touch hearts and souls. In the same way, he'll be making the fearful brave."

"After all, courageous people are no less scared than cowards," Agape said. "The brave simply choose to control their fear."

"Now you must see why he has to stay with the masked men," Don said. "Not forever--just until their power is reduced to insignificance."

I looked--I mean, Camilla looked around at the naked young men being sodomized by masked men. "Poor Joey," she said, watching him being forced to suck dick. "Poor Sean, poor Danny, and poor Chris. Same for Allen, Alain, and Brian." Chris had licked her pretty asshole back in York those many years ago in Dr. Cage's class: now Chris was being forced to lick a masked man's filthy asshole. "This used to turn me on--watching gay sex. But there's no consent here; those boys are being degraded. I used to like watching boys get humiliated during gay sex; it must have been because I wanted revenge on all those boys in public school who were mean to me because I was so skinny then. But Joey, Sean, Alain, and all the others over there--they didn't deserve to be punished for the sins of my childhood classmates. I'm a terrible woman...Oh, God. I deserve punishment."

"No, Camilla, come with us," Agape said.

"You've suffered, too," Candice said. "Remember the aquarium? There you were already degraded. Please, no more degradation for you--it won't help those boys."

"Come up with us to the heavenly realms," Don urged Camilla. "We'll go up through the roof of this hell-house and into the sky, where this surreal, dream-like world of an afterlife will take you to paradise."

"A Pure Land," Candice said. "A heavenly house, surrounded by beautiful lawns and peaceful countryside. And above that mansion, in the sky, is Nirvana, absolute peace."

"It's a long journey, but it's worth it," Agape said. "In heaven, all souls are one--not the clone-like Goth zombies you see here, virtually undifferentiated in body--in heaven, we're unified in spirit, but with what St. Paul called 'spiritual bodies'."

"You'll get your blonde hair, blue eyes, and peach skin back," Candice promised.

"You'll have the sweetness and innocence of a child," Don said. "For as Jesus said, we can get to heaven only as a child--remember?"

"Of course," Camilla said. "Forgetting what we know, with no knowledge of good and evil. No shame."

Beyond the influence of the pairs of opposites, said the voice of Dr. Singh, from the realm of the living.

"Ravinder!" Camilla said in pleasant surprise.

It's a beautiful, peaceful place, Armand's voice called out.

"In heaven, all is an eternal now," Agape said. "No guilt over the past, no fear for the future, just the enjoyment of the present. Pain feels far away, felt only faintly, if that."

"Come with us, Camil," Candice said. "It's a long way up, but we'll get you there."

Camilla looked at her sodomized former boy lovers again, and felt the pangs of her guilt sting her. "No!" she shouted. "I want a shorter, faster way there: purification by fire. I'm sure the ouroboros will lead me downward to heaven, through the serpents' tail--Satan's Tail--through the snake's biting head, into Nirvana, and finally to the heavenly mansion!" She began moving toward the stairs back to basement three, but Agape, Don, and Candice held her back. In Eros' large body, Camilla had the strength to pull free, and she flew down the stairs and quickly past the room where Eros--in a clone of her body--was being gang-raped. She wasn't noticed at all by Eros' rapists.

Now I was--I mean, Camilla was in an S and M dungeon. It was dark and dank, with mouldy brick walls and chains hanging off them. She changed her body back to its original Goth-girl form, for in her guilt feelings she was eager for punishment. Her weaker, smaller female form would be easily overpowered by the approaching masked men who were already whipping other unfortunate souls.

Noticing her friends coming down the stairs to enter the room, the two masked men in that room put up another powerful psychic barrier to keep them out. As they did so, she shrouded them in a cloud of unknowing, making them forgetful of the other masked men's foiled plan to gang-rape her on basement three. Thus she wouldn't be sent up there and switched with Eros.

Showing no resistance, she was quickly taken to a wall and tied up in strappado bondage, gagged and bent over, with her arms held up in elbow and wrist bondage, and a spreader bar between her legs. The two men each picked up his whip and cat o' nine tails and began lashing on her back.

With each red stripe cutting into her skin, she screamed in pain, its loudness muffled by the gag in her mouth. Within seconds, each wound would heal, but then be replaced with a new pair of red stripes. The men licked her blood as it dribbled down her back to her buttocks.

When they'd had enough fun whipping her, they got some hot waxes, of various colours, and began pouring them on her back. First, they dripped it on her slowly, drop by drop, then they got ladles, scooped up larger amounts, and poured it on her. She screamed louder, as if the gag hadn't been put in her mouth.

I deserve this, she thought. I deserve this punishment; I must endure it, for as long as it takes.

Of course, the masked men cared not at all about safety (something they wouldn't have cared about even if they were in the world of the living), and the hot wax they were using was nothing less than scorching. Her burns healed quickly, thanks to Nigrovum, but new burns quickly replaced the healing ones, thanks to the masked men.

Overwhelmed by the pain she was being subjected to, she soon drifted off into the floating, trance-like, out-of-body world of subspace, much like what she'd felt while hovering nude in the aquarium. Only now she didn't relive old memories: she had new experiences with two more people from her past--Troy and her mother, Collette.

Dreaming, Camilla found herself nude in a forest, much like the one in her old dream as a fifty-foot girl, but she and her mom were normal-sized. Since the afterlife felt like a dream to Camilla, in this subspace dream-like state, it was like being in a dream within a dream, so detached did she feel from reality.

Collette and Troy, both clothed but as 'Goth-looking' as Camilla, approached her.

"As usual, the little slut's as naked as the day she was born," Collette said.

"You have no business judging me, Mom," Camilla spat back defiantly. "You were no better, with your swinger parties and group sex gang-bangs, all while I was sleeping in the same house. Your sleeping pills for me were supposed to keep me from knowing your dirty secrets, but--"

"Oh, shut up, Camilla!" Collette shouted. "After the fire and your coma, I quickly mended my ways. But when you turned eighteen, you out-whored me way beyond what I was able even to imagine."

"Only because you taught me to be a slut!"

"Enough!" Collette slapped her.

"Collette, go easy," Troy said. "Hasn't she suffered enough?"

"No, not in my opinion," Collette went on. "You no longer have the right to judge me, after all you've done. Becoming a stripper and seducing Troy was just the tip of the iceberg. I rarely entered your dreams, as all those incubi and succubi did, because I deliberately distanced myself from you and your increasingly shameful practices. Yes, I cheated on your dad; yes, I slandered him and took you from him; yes, I had a lot of wild sex parties while you were supposed to be asleep. But I never committed incest, as you did with your father and your son--"

"I never willingly fucked Eros!" Camilla cried.

"I never deluded myself into thinking I was a goddess, as you did, you fraud," Collette continued, her voice getting gradually louder and louder. "I never required my heterosexual male lovers to humiliate themselves by sexually submitting to gay men, as you did. I never committed deliberate murder, as you did, killing a man's wife, trying to kill Aga's fiancee and killing him instead, killing some innocent Muslim fathers in Bali, among your other victims. Oh, and speaking of all your other victims, I never knowingly passed on an alien microorganism to my lovers, driving them insane with a psychic power they couldn't possibly understand, and causing their deaths, as you did, just because you wanted to score a record number of times! You are one million times the slut I ever was!"

"Fuck you!" Camilla shouted, her face contorted in a rage. She then grabbed her mother by the neck and began choking her.

Troy tried again to intervene. "Camilla, stop it!" he shouted, trying to pull her hands off Collette's neck. "Calm down! Don't lose control!"




Camilla Ch. 118



"Let go of my hands!" she shouted. "I'm gonna kill her!"

Camilla kicked him sharply in the balls, knocking him to the ground. She and Collette continued struggling.

Collette's face grew redder and redder. Camilla's black fingernails dug into her mother's neck, making it bleed profusely. Finally, Camilla's fingers bore holes into Collette's neck, and her lifeless body fell to the ground.

"I did it," Camila said, panting and looking at her bloody hands. "I finally killed the bitch."

Troy crawled over to Collette's bloody body, tears streaming down his face. "You murdered your own mother--and father--and she's the bitch?" he cried. "She was right about you all along: you are a little beast! Everything you touch, you kill!"

The shock of hearing those stinging words jolted Camilla awake from her subspace dream. She was reeling and disoriented. Don, Agape, and Candice arrived after breaking through the psychic barrier; they used Nigrovum to knock the two masked men away, making them fly to the other side of the room and hit the brick walls head first. They lay on the floor, bloodied and unconscious.

Camilla recovered from her dizziness. Her friends freed her from the strappado bondage, but she then used Nigrovum to knock them away before they could get a chance to carry her back upstairs. She then ran out of the BDSM dungeon and down the stairs to basement four.

She fell onto the hard floor of a dark, cold, circular room. She saw a light leading into another room, one that seemed much warmer. Shivering and hugging her naked body, she ran toward the room, sensing extreme danger but welcoming it, wanting to purge herself of her guilt more than ever, after having just heard her mother's so cruel words.

Don, Agape, and Candice ran after her.

"No, Camilla!" Agape shouted. "Don't go in there!"

It was too late: Camilla ran into the heat. There, in a kitchen, four men were waiting to get their revenge on her: Dirk and Guy, the Vancouver bisexuals who'd tried to enslave her in their apartment the day after her gang-bang with Williams and her other high school teachers. Jay and John, the orderly and customer who'd raped her in the hospital when she was comatose, were also there, hungry for revenge. They set up a psychic barrier, temporarily keeping her friends out.

"Remember the bug spray you put on our Vaseline, Camilla?" Dirk growled. "Ooh, that burning passion!"

"Our injuries didn't just take away our manhood, you bitch!" Guy snarled. "They killed us. Now it's your turn to have your genitals and asshole burned off." He grabbed her left arm.

"That's right," Dirk said, grabbing her right arm. "But we have something worse than bug spray. You'll see."

"Your pussy's gonna look the way you left my disintegrated cock and balls," said John, grabbing her right leg. "A giant hole between your legs."

"Your whole body's gonna blow to pieces, " said Jay, grabbing her left leg. "Not just your head."

They picked her up and carried her to a large hole in a wall, an oven in which a huge fire burned, with what seemed like thousands of knifes slicing up and down on a scalding hot table.

"Oh, God! No! Please!" she screamed, struggling to get free, not prepared for so torturous a punishment. She had her feet on the wall, on either side of the hole, pushing away to stop them from pushing her in.

Her friends broke through the psychic barrier and ran into the kitchen.

"If you want to reach the heavenly realms this way, you must endure the annihilation that's waiting for you in there," Don said.

"We don't want you to suffer in that way," said Agape, with tears in his eyes for what his daughter was about to suffer. "But you keep wavering in your resolve to save yourself. The only way to get to heaven is straight through there, willfully, without ever looking back."

You must also give up your body in the morgue, Camilla, Armand's disembodied voice called out to her from the world of the living, from his hotel in Montreal.

"She isn't letting her corpse decompose up there?" Candice asked.

No, Singh's voice said. She's still far too attached to it.

"She's using Nigrovum to keep it intact?" Don asked.

Yes, Armand's voice said.

You must let it go, Camilla, Singh's voice called out from Vancouver.

"But I...want it...to stay beautiful," Camilla said, still struggling to get free of her four vengeful abductors. "I don't want...my body...to decompose. Unh!"

"But it must!" Agape said. "Decomposition is a natural part of death. You must accept that, or you'll suffer forever."

"Let go, Camilla," Don said. "Free yourself from attachment. Have some peace, finally."

"I don't...want to...be ugly," Camilla said. "Ah!"

"It will be too difficult for us to free you from hell if you won't commit to your own salvation," Agape said. "in your irresolution, you'll just bounce back and forth, from level to level in this inferno, and you'll be trapped here forever."

"We wanted to take you out of hell by going up, the slow and long, but ultimately easier way," Candice said. "You didn't want that; you wanted to go down through the serpent's tail. Well, this is it. Excruciating. You have to deal with it."

"I go...through that fire?" Camilla asked, still struggling, and getting tired. "Burned and...cut to pieces, but after that, I'm in heaven?"

"Yes," Don said. "But first let go of your psychic control of your body in the morgue. Let it decompose. Don't be attached to it. It doesn't need to be beautiful: you'll be beautiful in the heavenly realms."

"Yes," Candice said. "Through the fire, through the serpent's tail, into its head, through the Nirvanic realm, then to paradise."

"We'll be waiting for you there," Agape said.

"Be brave," Don said.

"OK," Camilla said in a trembling voice. She finally stopped struggling.

"Yeah!" the four men shouted in vindictive glee; then they threw her into the oven.

She released her psychic control of her body in the morgue, and it finally began to rot.

****************

The next morning, the nurse working in the Montreal morgue took a doctor she'd told about Camilla to where her body was being held in its cold chamber.

"I'm telling you, Dr. Taggert," she said as she opened the cold chamber. "Her body isn't decomposing at--"

She was shocked to see Camilla's corpse suddenly in an advanced state of decomposition, since it had been in the cold chamber for over two months.

"It isn't decomposing at all, eh?" the doctor asked her with a slight sneer.

"N-never mind," she said, quickly putting the body back inside.

*****************

Camilla screamed as her body was being burned by the fires in the oven she'd been thrown into. In part, however, I--I mean she--was glad to suffer, for her guilt was even more painful to her than her body pain.

Then I felt--I mean, she felt all those knives cutting up my body--I mean, her body. The mutilated pieces were cut into ever smaller and smaller pieces, and were diced and minced into such fineness, as to be a powder. The heat of the oven melted the powder into a liquid. The liquid felt increasingly merged with its surroundings, and I felt my consciousness float through a serpentine tail.

Satan's Tail, I thought.

I sensed the biting head of the ouroboros, cutting into and devouring the tail; with the annihilation of that tail, I finally felt the approaching end of my desire, my fear, and my suffering. My guilt feelings were fading, too.

The liquid that I'd become, at first like molten lava, now cooled and merged with the purifying waters of an ocean, an infinite ocean, that flooded all over me and all over the surrounding landscape of the earth. I became one with the ocean, psychically linked with everyone and everything. It no longer seemed as though Nigrovum, but rather the divine, was linking me with other forms of consciousness; or, perhaps, my lack of a body, of an ego, was no longer limiting Nigrovum's expression in me. Perhaps I had become pure Nigrovum, my identity absorbed into it fully. Or, is Nigrovum simply Brahman?

The waters grew hotter, and slowly began evaporating...I felt myself passing through the ineffable bliss of the Nirvanic realm...the void from which all things come...a nothingness that is everything...

*

*

*

...condensation in the clouds, then rain...drops of rain pouring on the lawn in front of a big, beautiful mansion...a puddle forms on the lawn. The water of the puddle somehow congeals, as it were. An unconscious human body is formed from the water...mine.

I wake up in what looks like the bed of a hospital room. Daddy is sitting on the side of my bed. Candice, Don, Jasmine--the black girl Candice loved in the mansion on Grouse Mountain--and Carrie are standing by, delighted and relieved to see me finally awake.

"Daddy?" I say, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. "Candice?" I look to my side and see my hair--blonde--draped on my peach-skinned arm. "Carrie? Father Josiah?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Daddy says, with tears streaming down his cheeks. "We have you back, at last." He opens his arms for me to hug him.

"Oh, Daddy," I say, now crying myself and throwing my arms around him in a tight embrace. "And I have you back now, too. I'm in heaven, finally."

"Welcome back, baby," Candice says, stroking my hair. "It is heaven here, in a way, with you now back with us."

"I'm so...sorry," I say in heavy sobs. "To you all."

"For what?" Don asks.

"For hurting you," I say, still sobbing.

"When did you hurt us?" asks Carrie.

"I had...sex with...Daddy," I begin, my words constantly interrupted by my endless sobbing. "Then I killed him...trying to kill you, Carrie." The others are looking at each other, apparently totally confused as to what I could possibly mean by such shocking confessions. "I cheated...on Candice...all the time. I made you...all sick...with Nigrovum. I killed...you all, and sent you...to hell. I'm such...a bad girl." My body shook with each sob.

"What on earth are you talking about?" asks Daddy, letting go of me and looking deep in my teary eyes.

"That must have been some dream you were having," says Jasmine. Candice puts her arm around Jasmine and kisses her on the cheek. Jasmine kisses her back on the lips.

"Dream?" I ask, now the confused one.

"Yes, Camilla," Don says. "You just woke up from a long coma."

"A coma?" I ask.

"Yes," Daddy says. "You've been out of it for several months, ever since your mother's house burned down, when you and Angus discovered her in the middle of that disgusting...orgy..." He whispers that last word.

"I don't understand," I say. "Yeah, I remember seeing Mommy naked and tied up, with all those bare-naked men, and they were gang-banging her and--"

"Camilla!" Daddy gently chides me. "Nice little girls don't use naughty words like that."

"Daddy, I'm not a child anymore, I'm a fully-grown wo--" I look down at myself. I'm flat-chested! I'm skinny! I'm smaller! I have the body of a--what?--ten-year-old?!

"What do you mean, you're not a child?" Daddy asks. "Of course you are."

"Oh!" I whine, beginning to cry again. "I don't wanna be a little kid. I want my sexy grown-up body back!"

"Sweetie, you've always been a child," Carrie says, caressing my cheek. She and Daddy hug and kiss, as do Candice and Jasmine. It disappoints me to see them as two pairs of lovers, and none of them mine; strangely, though, I feel numb of any jealousy.

"You must have dreamed you were an adult, during your coma," Daddy says. "Just after you'd fainted in the burning house, firemen rescued you; though your mom, Angus, and almost all of her lovers died in the fire."

"Yeah?" Candice asks. "What happened?"

"Oh, it was awful," Daddy says. "BDSM, naked men in gimp masks--Collette was really into kink. All while having custody of Camilla after our divorce. She'd give the girl sleeping pills so she wouldn't know what her mom was doing. Ridiculous way to raise a child. Was she too cheap to pay for a baby-sitter and have her decadent fun elsewhere?"

"How'd the fire start?" Jasmine asks.

"Angus, then Collette's husband and Camilla's step-dad, unexpectedly came home from the last minute cancellation of a business trip," Daddy explains. "He caught Collette by surprise, doing what she would typically do--cheating. They argued and fought. Camilla, having not taken her sleeping pill that night, suddenly appeared, all distraught from what she saw, and knocking over one of several candlesticks used to light up the dark bedroom. I don't know why Collette needed candlesticks: I guess they were there to decorate the room and give it a sexier vibe. Anyway, the house caught on fire, and the poor, traumatized girl swooned, saved by the firemen in the nick of time. I don't think anyone else survived. If anyone did, the media got the story from them. Anyway, that's the story as I understand it from the news."

"How awful," Don says.

"But, I thought I woke up from the coma, like, twenty-seven years ago," I say, still crying and confused.

"Do you remember waking up back then?" Carrie asks.

"Well, no," I say. "Which is strange, 'cause normally remember just about everything."

"You do, do you?" Candice asks skeptically.

"Yeah, I have a photographic memory," I say.

"Your mom used to claim she had a photographic memory," Daddy says. "Well, Carrie is your mew mommy, sweetie. We got married last month, while you were in your coma."

"Oh," I say, disappointed, but oddly accepting of the relationship, as I am of that of Candice and Jasmine, who peck each other on the lips. "But I couldn't have dreamed it all. I remember everything too well, too vividly, and no child could know the grown-up stuff that I know."

"After living with Collette for three years, a child can be knowledgeable about lots of adult stuff," Daddy says. He exchanges nervous glances with Carrie, Don, and Candice, as though he's hiding something from me. I try to do a scan of his thoughts, but I can't detect any hidden agenda. Are they all blocking me? I can't tell. All the same, I think he's lying about me dreaming it all. He probably thinks he's protecting me from all that pain, the sweet man. "And a smart girl like you, with your curiosity, looking up things on Wikipedia to know what your mom was always doing when you were supposedly asleep, I'm sure you could have learned lots of grown-up things."

"The kids today grow up too fast," Don says.

"I remember--you'd study anything--and everything," Daddy says. "I still remember, even back when Collette and I were married, you would read online synopses of Shakespeare plays, or of Moby-Dick, or look at pictures of masks from ancient Greek comedy on your computer. How those masks used to scare you!"

I think Daddy's lying, making up alternative explanations for why I know so much stuff.

"Well, maybe I got some of my adult knowledge from Nigrovum," I say.

"Nigrovum?" Daddy asks, sneering slightly. "What on earth is Nigrovum?"

"It's not of the earth," I say. "Nigrovum: tiny black alien egg-like things, swimming around in my blood. They give me the power to do anything I want, and to know anything I want to know."

"A child's imagination," Carrie says, chuckling. "Adorable."

"It's real!" I insist, slightly annoyed. "That, and my photographic memory could have given me all my knowledge."

"Baby, there's no such thing as so-called 'photographic memory', or eidetic memory," Carrie says. "As a psychologist, I've tested it. Many people, like you and your mom, claim to have total recall. But it's never been proven, not once."

"Your memory's excellent, sweetie. There's no doubt of that," Daddy says. "But it's not perfect."

"But Nigrovum helps me to know--" I begin.

"Sweetie, there's no such thing as Nigrovum, or eidetic memory, and there's no adult body for you...not for another eight years, anyway," Carrie insists.

I'm crying again. "I don't wanna be a little girl; this isn't me."

"Yes, it is; of course it is!" Daddy says, holding my arms and looking into my eyes. "This little girl is you, the real you."

"But I don't wanna be--" I begin.

"Why not?" Candice asks. "You're such a cutie. I look at you, and want to pick you up and give you a big hug."

"I'm skinny and ugly," I say in sobs.

"No, you're not!" Daddy shouts. "You don't have to be an adult with a sexy body; you don't have to try to be someone else. You just have to be a little girl."

"Be yourself, Camilla," Jasmine says.

"Your true self," Don says.

"Beautiful and little," Daddy says.

Dr. Petrovich comes in with a nurse in her late fifties. "I'm afraid visiting time is over."

"OK, Doctor," Daddy says, getting up. "We'll come by tomorrow, sweetie. Get some rest. Bye."

"Bye, Camilla," Candice says, walking out of the room holding Jasmine's hand. The others say good-bye to me and leave.

"They're right about you being pretty," the doctor says.

"That's right," says the nurse. "Don't grow up too fast."

They leave after giving me a quick check-up; then I take a short nap.

***************

About an hour later, I wake up and get out of bed. I walk out of my room, wearing a hospital gown. Oddly, the halls are completely empty of people, and all quiet. I go to an exit door down the hall, open it, and get out of the hall. I go up the stairs and find a door to the roof. I open it, and go out. I walk over to the edge of the building.

I look up at the blue, sunny sky of a late afternoon, knowing the Nirvanic realm is up there, beyond the clouds. I smile, yearning for it. Then I look down at the grassy ground, about ten floors down. I get dizzy and a little scared from seeing such a long way down. After that, I look all over the surrounding scenery: it's just as it had been described to me--green, grassy countryside, beautiful and peaceful. A Pure Land, an ideal place for gaining total purification and for nurturing spirituality. I have surely found the heavenly realms.

I go over and over in my mind everything that happened to me since the coma--my real coma, not this white lie I'm sure my daddy just told me, to protect me from the awful truth. I remember back when I turned eighteen and quit my McDonald's job to work as a stripper for Luvlee's. I remember the crush I had on Mr. Grisham. Since I know how painful the later memories are, I find it easier to narrate my past as if I were someone else watching it from a distance, saying, 'Camilla did this, she did that', instead of 'I did this, I did that'. It's always easier to be someone else than it is to be yourself, anyway.

To ease the pain further, I remember those years, from being an eighteen-year-old to a thirty-seven-year-old, as I understood everything then, without my knowledge of later events, or of what the masked men were doing, or of how Nigrovum was affecting my life, until I discovered them when I did later. I prefer remembering the early years as being of me just enjoying the sex and worrying about small problems like being caught by Ms. Callahan, things like that. Ignorance is bliss, and it's better to forget the awful things we know, worrying about them only later, so we can take a rest from agitation. Knowing is hell, believe me. That's why eating of the Tree of Knowledge leads to The Fall, and I want to be Eve before the Fall again, for as long as possible.




Camilla Ch. 118



Sometimes as I go over my memories, telling my story in my mind in the third person, I get details mixed up and state them incorrectly. I think this is because, as knowing the terror of the truth becomes more and more unavoidable, the stress of it all makes it harder for me to think clearly. When the horror of it gets really bad, I even occasionally, briefly, go back to the first person. Sometimes, in my fear, when I get really mixed up, I even get people's names wrong.

Carrie and Daddy would probably say that I make those mistakes because I don't really have a photographic memory; I say I sometimes make those mistakes on purpose to shield myself further from the painful truth. Lies, illusions, and incorrect information can be comforting.

Sometimes I remember realizing what the masked men were scheming, then I forget what I'd learned, because of the way those horrors were driving me mad; then I remember the ugly truth again.

But I couldn't have dreamt it all, could I have?

No ten-year-old could know the things I know, especially without a photographic memory. I have a huge vocabulary, and I know literature really well, including Shakespeare plays, not just synopses of them. I even know the memories of other people, when I was never with them. No little kid could know all that, and nobody without Nigrovum could know other people's experiences without sharing them.

Of course, Nigrovum could help a kid know all that, if she wanted to know that stuff badly enough. I, of course, did want to know stuff like that, even as young as seven or eight. But I didn't get Nigrovum in my blood until I was about fourteen, when I squatted on the grass in a Vancouver park; so I must have woken from the coma twenty-seven years ago, not just now!

When I was in kindergarten, on the way to school, sometimes I'd lie on the dewy grass in the morning, feeling the moisture seep into the pores of my skin. I'd then go to school all alert, the best student in my class, remembering everything without needing to study for tests. Wait a minute: was Nigrovum already there, in the dew? No, it couldn't have been!

I saw dishonesty--if well-meaning dishonesty--in Daddy's eyes when he told me I'd dreamt everything after the fire in Mommy's house. He, Candice, Don, and Carrie were all lying to me, I'm sure. They're trying to protect me. They don't want me to go back into the hellish realms, to save Eros, because it's dangerous. If I go back there, I could bounce back and forth, from infernal realm to infernal realm, trapped there forever, eternally gang-raped! How awful!

Though the after-life, this 'other world', is surreal and dream-like, with its defying of the laws of physics and gravity, giving us the ability to jump up into the sky and leave this realm by going through the clouds, this is the real world. The physical world is the inconsequential one.

Daddy and the others trying to trick me into thinking that all my years, from my teens to age 37, were just a long dream I had while in a coma, is like what happened in the Induction to The Taming of the Shrew. A lord and his men trick Christopher Sly into thinking his whole life as a drunken tinker was all just a dream he'd had while he was supposedly in a long coma. Though I'm not at all fooled by my daddy's white lie, Sly sure was. All of this, nonetheless, leads to an inevitable question: which is the dream, and which the reality? Before waking from the 'coma', or after?

Again, no ten-year-old could know what I know about the Induction to The Taming of the Shrew. It's a professor's expertise, and I have it, a 37-year-old woman, though temporarily I'm stuck with the body of a child!

I have a child's body, surely, because I'm in heaven, here where atman, my true self, equals Brahman. You have to enter heaven as a child, as Jesus taught us. I'm sure Candice and Jasmine were children when they first got here, after they died, Candice from her drug overdose, and Jasmine after being murdered by those bastards in the mansion on Grouse Mountain. Then, over time, they both got back their adult bodies, once they were completely purged of their sin. When I'm purified totally, as I'm sure I will be, sooner than I know it, I will have my adult body again.

Surely this is heaven, not just some hospital: why hasn't anyone come to take me back to my room? Surely by now they know I'm not in bed, where I should be. Why aren't they looking for me?

This building and this scenery are just like the vision of the heavenly realm I saw in my dream, when I was pregnant with Eros. If I was always only a child, why don't I have any childhood memory of this hospital?

It's peaceful here, in heaven, in this 'Pure Land', but I want something--I don't know--better than this. I'd like to be a Bodhisattva, like Daddy, Candice, and Don were for me, and save Eros and the others in hell from their rapists. But I guess Eros is doing what he must to save humanity from the masked men and their evil Green Party. Maybe he's already beaten them by now, and I'll see him here soon. I'd like that.

What's it like in Nirvana, that realm beyond the clouds? I only passed through it very quickly after I got out of hell, and I can form no image in my mind at all of what it was like in there. All I know is that it's supposed to be indescribable, the highest peace. I've never known perfect peace, and now that I'm no longer addicted to sex, I'd like to know that kind of bliss.

In this surreal, dream-like after-life, I can jump up into the sky, enter the clouds, and find that perfect peace. I really want to do that.

Of course, if I jump too high, I could shoot through Nirvana, through the head and tail of the ouroboros, and find myself back in hell. From there, I could find my son and try to save him, or be trapped there forever, addicted to sex again, and always gang-raped. How can I be sure I'll jump just high enough to end up in the right place?

On the other hand, if I don't jump high enough, I risk falling down and hurting myself on this roof, or, if I go over the edge of this building, I could fall all the way down to the grass. If Daddy's right about this just being a hospital, in the physical world, my falling to the ground will mean my certain death. Killing myself in that way, my Catholic soul will go to hell, a place I never want to return to, except if I can guarantee getting Eros and all my former lovers out of there and up here, in heaven.

I have no guarantees of success if I jump, no assurances of ultimate salvation. Still, I feel dissatisfied here, as nice as this Pure Land is, and as wonderful as it is to be with my Daddy and Candice again. There must be a better happiness than the one I have here.

I squat down, summon up all my strength, and close my eyes. I feel a vibration in my body: that must be the Nigrovum in me, aiding me in my visualization of a perfect jump, one that will take me flying just high enough to enter the clouds and land precisely in the Nirvanic realm. Nigrovum, don't fail me now.

I jump up and off the edge of the building. It's a really high jump, taking me way up into the sky...I'm reaching for those clouds...I'm pretty sure I'll touch them...

*

*

*

THE END



Camilla Ch. 012



"Please come in," Dr. Singh said to Camilla. She walked into his apartment, and he looked around the hallway, hoping no gossipy neighbours saw this beautiful naked exhibitionist come into his home. She took off her high heels and left them by the door.

"What a nice home you have, doctor," she said, still in that breathy imitation of Marilyn Monroe that she knew he liked. In his living room, he had an extensive library of books on a huge bookshelf covering an entire wall, with only a TV in the centre and DVDs on the shelves above it, all these together making an isthmus between the two oceans of books. To the left of the TV and DVDs were all medical books in Hindi and English; to the right were books, in Hindi, Sanskrit, and English, of a variety of scholarly subjects. These included such Hindu sacred texts as the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Mahabharata, and other literature like the Kama Sutra. Also there were books on philosophy (including Schopenhauer), literature (including Shakespeare's complete works), and history (including Tacitus' Annals of Imperial Rome). Most of the books were old and had clearly been read by him already, so there was no reason to believe that the books sat there merely to look impressive. Camilla was in awe of the doctor's obvious intelligence, and since for her 'smart is the new sexy', she now wanted to have sex with him all the more.

"Are you a reader, too, Camilla?" he asked, trying to look in her eyes and not at her statuesque nude body.

"Not like you," she answered with her eyes and mouth agape.

"Dinner is just about ready," he said. "Your timing is perfect." As is your body, he thought. "I'll go into the kitchen and get the dish. Please come sit at the dining table." He went into the kitchen.

She walked over to the dimly-lit dining area and saw the table settings on opposite sides of the table, in the middle of which were lit candles. She moved her setting--a glass of red wine, a plate and a knife and fork--to the middle of the table and sat down on the chair there. This way when he sat with her, she would be at two o'clock from his vantage point. She saw on the wall, by the chair where he would sit, was a small altar to the gods Shiva and Parvati.

When he came in the dining area holding a small pot of food, he asked, "Why did you move to the middle of the table?"

"So you could see my body better as we eat."

"Well, that was very considerate of you," he said as he put portions of the food on her plate and his. He then put the empty pot back in the kitchen and returned to sit with Camilla.

"What is this?" she asked. "It looks delicious."

"It's a lamb curry dish called 'Rogan Josh', he explained. "'Rogan' means 'oil', and 'Josh' means 'heat, hot, boiling, or passionate'."

"Sounds like my kind of food." She grinned slyly as she put some in her mouth. "Mmm...spicy!" She licked her lips like a cat.

"I'm glad you like it," he said as he started to eat. He took furtive glances at her lovely nakedness as she ate. Always wanting to be a gentleman in spite of his lust, he hoped she wouldn't see his ogling eyes, even though she'd done nothing other than encourage ogling. Of course, she saw his leering out of the corners of her eyes, and she deliberately pushed out her behind and curved her spine inward so he could see clearly what undulating curves she had. Oh, how he wanted to taste that soft, sweet, peach-coloured skin! Still, he had to remember to be gentlemanly, even though she wasn't exactly being a lady in the classic sense.

"I've always wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your defence of me against those kids who make fun of my accent," he said.

"I feel obligated," she said. "They don't make you lose face: they make us Canadians lose face."

"Still, I thank you for caring. I've been a lonely man these five years in Canada, so far away from my family in India. It touches my heart to see such a beautiful girl show me consideration." He fought back some sobs.

She grinned, shook her head and threw her hair back to make her breasts wiggle while saying, "Thank you."

"Thank you," he said, holding up his wine glass. They clicked their glasses together and drank.

"There's no reason to make fun of Indians," she said. "You have a fascinating culture: your art, music, spirituality. And people everywhere love Bollywood movies."

"Well, Bollywood isn't the best India has to offer in cinema, but our Sanskrit literature is something I'm proud of. There have even been Western scholars who have said Hindu poetry and philosophy are far superior to that of ancient Greece."

"Wow, you're smart," she said, beaming at him.

When they finished their dinner, he took the dishes back into the kitchen, insisting that she, as his guest, not help him. He came back and asked her how she liked the lamb curry.

"It was delicious," she said. Getting up from her chair so he could see all of her, she then asked: "Can you examine me now, doctor?"

"Certainly," he said, breathing heavily. They went over to the living room sofa, where he sat. She sat on the coffee table and spread her legs. He turned on some nearby lamps to get a better look. He also took out his penlight to see inside her vagina. He knew, as did she, that there were no warts in there at all; but he'd enjoy looking anyway, and she'd enjoy showing him.

"The yoni is an important Hindu symbol, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, voice cracking as he put his finger inside. "It's the divine passage, the sacred temple."

"The Holy of Holies," she sighed as his finger touched her G-spot.

"Yes, you could call it that." His penis was as hard as Shiva's linga stone, and ready to be used in the same way. "But one shouldn't talk about such religious symbols in an erotic context."

"I wasn't," she said; though the wicked girl was certainly thinking that way. His finger made it impossible not to.

"The union of...lingam and yoni...is not merely sexual...It symbolizes...the unity...of opposites...like yin and yang..." Indeed, Singh was unifying the spiritual (in his speech) with its opposite, the sensual (in his fingering and panting). His finger felt everywhere along her vaginal walls. By now he knew her vagina better than she did.

"Are you sure my yoni...vagina...is OK?" she asked, affecting insecurity about her beauty.

"It's perfect." He pulled his finger out.

"Can you check my asshole again?" She rolled off the coffee table and got on all fours on the floor. She pushed out her behind so he could clearly see her anus.

"Certainly." He suddenly remembered that he had no medical gloves, but he didn't care. He pushed his finger deep inside her rectum, again feeling for warts they both knew weren't there.

"Ohh!" she moaned with pleasure. After a thorough feeling of her rectal walls, he pulled his finger out. It had no faecal odor at all: he was impressed. Her opened anus looked like a chocolate-coloured Life Saver. "Is it OK?" she asked, looking back at him.

"It's perfect," he panted.

"So, you're sure I have no warts at all?"

"Yes."

"Am I stil desirable to men?"

"Without a doubt." With her naked on all fours before him, and with her behind pushed out at his face so her perfect vulva and anus were in clear view, he couldn't believe her 'self-doubt'.

"Maybe you're just saying that to be polite." (She loved pretending a sexual situation was non-sexual, acting as though her obvious seduction of him was merely a medical check-up.)

"Of course I'm not just being polite. There's no need for me to lie: you're a sex goddess; you're an 18-year-old female avatar of Kamadeva, god of love."

"Will I still be able to do my job? When I strip, will the men still want me?"

"Of course they will."

"I think you're just trying to be nice."

"What ever makes you think that?"

"Well, you haven't tried to ravish me, have you?"

Not able to contain himself anymore, he instantly unzipped his pants and pulled out his phallus. Since she was still bent over in front of him, at first he couldn't decide which hole to enter. He decided that going in her vagina was what she must have wanted, though she would actually have enjoyed anal sex a lot, too. In any case, he put the finger of his right hand back in her rectum so she could enjoy a double penetration. As he slid his rock-hard phallus in and out of her vagina, and as his finger massaged her rectal walls, he reached back with his left hand and tickled her left foot. The pleasure of the double penetration was multiplied tenfold by his tickling fingers, and she orgasmed sooner than usual.

He, however, wasn't done yet.

He pulled his still-erect penis out of her vagina and his finger out of her anus. Looking back at him, she said, "You can put your cock in my ass if you want."

"Actually, your feet especially excite me," he said.

"Do you want a foot job?"

"I'd love one," he panted nervously in anticipation.

She turned around and carefully put her feet on either side of his penis. With her soles she gently stroked it; she used her toes to tickle his scrotum and gently tap his testes. All the while, his hands caressed her toes, heels, and arches. She also put her toes under his penis and wiggled them against his frenulum. All of this stimulation, along with his absolute adoration of her feet, sped up his climax, and he ejaculated all over them. She giggled at it.

"They are so beautiful," he said.

"Thank you," she said with a grin. "And thanks for examining me."

"My pleasure," he said, using Kleenex to wipe his penis clean and putting it back in his pants.

He then got some paper towels to wipe her feet clean and to clean her fluid off his wooden floor. As he did this, she put on her shoes and stood by the door.

"I just remembered something. I hate to leave, doctor..." She suddenly lost her breathy voice.

"Please...call me Ravinder."

"Sorry, Ravinder, but I have to get home now. My roommate needs to talk to me about something; I meant to talk to her about it before I came here, but she wasn't in when I got in, and I forgot. She says it's urgent, so I gotta go. Sorry. We'll do something together again real soon. I'm just across the hall from you, so just knock, OK?"

"OK. You've already given me an incredible evening. Thank you, and goodnight."

"Bye," she said with a smile, and walked out the door. He closed it after watching her knock on her apartment door and be let in by Candice.

I hope my foot fetish didn't turn you off, Camilla, he thought. 



Camilla Ch. 013



After nude Camilla walked into their apartment and Candice--also nude--closed and locked the door, Candice immediately went up behind Camilla and started fondling her breasts. 

Camilla moaned at the gentleness of Candice's touch, and asked, "What's the problem with Mr. Pierce? How's he a pervert?"

"He watches us as we shower after gym class," Candice said in moans as she lightly tickled and pinched Camilla's nipples. "He has hidden cameras in our shower room."

"How could he sneak cameras in there?" Camilla put her hands over her shoulders so she could stroke Candice's hair. Candice kissed and nibbled on Camilla's neck.

"I don't know how, but he has them hidden in the shower room," Candice said between kisses as she rubbed her pelvis against Camilla's buttocks. Camilla enjoyed the gentle brushing sensation of Candice's pubic hair against her behind, and Candice enjoyed feeling Camilla's anal cleft open slightly as her pelvis pushed each buttock away from the centre alternatively. "I think the cameras are in the black borders between tiles on the walls, where the borders intersect."

"How do you know he's filming us?" Camilla sighed.

"Yesterday Ms. Partridge told me to find him and have him come to her to talk to her about something, and I went in his office," Candice explained as her right hand moved down to touch the stubble on Camilla's mons pubis. "He wasn't anywhere in sight, and I went inside out of curiosity, because normally his office is always locked. When I saw what was in there, I understood why. I saw, by his computer, DVDs he'd burned with 'Cami. & Candi' written on them. Suspecting they were about us, I put one in his computer. Sure enough, it showed us showering together: it was Friday after gym class, when we washed each other's bodies after all the other girls left." Candice was now tickling Camilla's clitoris.

"I've no objections," Camilla squealed. "Let's do him in a threesome."

No longer touching Camilla, Candice said, "Camilla, we may be his favourites, but we're not the only girls he's filmed."

"No?" Camilla turned around to look at Candice.

"No. He has DVDs with 'Gr. 9', 'Gr. 10', 'Gr. 11', and 'Gr. 12' on them. I watched a bit of one of the 'Gr. 9' ones, and it was just what I'd suspected: naked, showering 14-year-olds."

"Oh, no," Camilla said. "That's just plain wrong."

"We have to tell the principal."

"Do you have proof?"

"Yes, I took pictures of everything in his office with my cell-phone: the DVDs with their labels clearly legible, and stills of them playing on his computer. He's soooooo busted."

"Why would he keep all the incriminating evidence in his office? I thought you said he was a smart man."

"I don't know: I guess it's just criminals' vanity--you know, like the murderer who publishes his crime as a novel describing exactly how he did it, yet still thinking he'll never get caught. Well, Pierce has been caught, and he's going to jail, as I see it." 

"Well, what if he repented?"

"What?"

"You're a Catholic. You believe in Christian forgiveness, don't you?"

"This is unforgivable, Camilla." When Camilla gave Candice a disapproving look, Candice continued: "If I don't forgive, Camilla, remember: neither do you. You'll never forgive your mom for messing up your life--am I wrong?"

"Candice, my mom will never repent; but if we put the fear of God into Mr. Pierce, I bet we can force him to repent." Camilla then told Candice her nascent plan, and they went to bed, resuming their lovemaking. Candice gluttonously sucked on Camilla's breasts while rubbing hers against Camilla's belly. Candice rubbed her crotch against Camilla's foot; Candice also gave Camilla a 'shocker', putting the index and long fingers of her right hand in Camilla's vagina, while putting her pinkie in Camilla's anus. The surprise of this made Camilla orgasm: Candice happily licked all of the fluid off Camilla's genitals and off the bed-sheet. 

********************************************

After gym class the next day, Candice had finished her shower early and left to find Mr. Pierce in his office. When she surreptitiously saw him walk in, turn on his computer, and lock the door with a slightly guilty look in his eye, she called Camilla on her cell-phone to tell her that the gym teacher was probably watching the girls shower on his computer just then. Camilla, still in the girls' change room, then hung up, put away her cell-phone, and slowly undressed in front of Akemi. Camilla rarely looked in Akemi's direction so the shy 18-year-old Japanese-Canadian could enjoy the show. Akemi took furtive glances, making sure the other girls didn't notice, as Camilla removed her blouse, her mini-skirt, her shoes and socks, and finally her bra and panties. Naked Camilla then suddenly squatted when facing Akemi to scratch her ankles, all the while turning her head to the side so Akemi could freely look at Camilla's vulva. Akemi, however, was too timid to look. Camilla grinned at Akemi, who blushed, as Camilla walked out of the changing area and into the shower room. She then began a late shower, deliberately dawdling so the other girls would leave first, and she would be alone there.

Finally alone, she noticed what looked like a small camera lens hidden in a hole in the intersecting black borders of the white tiles on the wall: Candice was right! Neither Camilla nor Candice minded Pierce watching them shower; both girls were of the age of consent, and Candice had the potential to be as exhibitionistic as Camilla was, given Camilla's influence. Watching underage girls shower, however, was going too far; also, there was the issue of invading all the girls' privacy, regardless of their age. Pierce had to be stopped, and Camilla knew exactly how.

The camera was level with Camilla's upper legs, and looking up at her. Pursing her lips, she looked down directly at it, as if it were Pierce's eyes, and began a slow, erotic dance. Her hips swayed and undulated like the ocean waves as if seen while lying on one's side. She moved her hands up and down her body, touching her breasts, hips, and crotch. She turned around and moved her behind left and right, fondling her buttocks and opening them wide so the camera would get a clear shot of her anus. Then she bent over and aimed her behind at the camera so her anus would be in a close-up. Perfectly clean inside and out, it looked like a pink Fruit Loop. 

After that, Camilla turned around and squatted. As she thought would happen, the camera tilted down to get a shot of her vulva, which she clearly displayed with wide-open legs. Then she opened her labia wide to expose her vagina, and looked in the camera lens with widened eyes that hoped for approval. Her genitals looked like pink liquorice.

Camilla continued displaying herself in this manner, trying different poses, including going on all fours with her backside to the camera and displaying both her vulva and anus. As she did this, it occurred to her: she was of legal age, and enjoyed showing off her nakedness--why not hire a photographer and have pornographic photo galleries and films of her posted on the internet? She wanted a straight man to do the photography: though he'd control his lust and be professional about his work, when she looked in his eyes and saw his desire, that could create a sexual chemistry that would make her poses even more exciting--for him, for her, and for her viewers. Besides, they could do POV porn, and she'd let the man have sex with her as long as he filmed it, every time.

At one point during her posing, she stood up to dance before the camera, but it didn't tilt up with her. Pierce must have left his office: Camilla and Candice thought he would do that; they correctly assumed he would rush to the girls' shower area in the hope of having an encounter with Camilla. 

Indeed, Pierce soon entered the girls' change room, and Phase Two of Camilla's plan began. "Camilla?" he boldly asked as he turned the corner that led to the shower room. 

"Mr. Pierce?" she asked with a grin as she casually reached for her towel. When he saw her, she was just starting to wrap it around herself: he caught a split-second glimpse of her buttocks; she knew, and her body language clearly told him that she didn't mind. "How are you, sir?" she asked as she walked up to him.

"Oh, just real good," he stammered in excitement.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked with a sly smile.

"Yes, I did," he panted.

"I'm glad," she said, grinning wickedly as she allowed her towel to unwrap from behind her and cover only her front. Her hips were now bare. 

"Since I already know what everything looks like, I don't think you'll be needing this." He grabbed her towel and quickly pulled it away from her.

She waited for him to look drown at her nakedness before putting her hands over her breasts and mons veneris, neither of which she adequately covered; indeed, both nipples were still showing, as was her pudendal cleft--this, of course, was deliberate. "Sir," she whined in affected disapproval. "You're bad."

"Let me be worse," he said, and put his arms around her. They were kissing hard, their tongues dancing with each other, as his hands moved up and down her body. He gently fondled her buttocks as she stroked the bulge in his pants: its size, roughly seven inches in length, impressed her; as she stroked it, she also sucked on his tongue as if she were performing fellatio. His fingers crept inside her anal cleft and fingered her anus. She pulled her tongue out of his mouth and gently bit his lower lip, pulling it towards her as she moved her head back. She let his lip go, and it snapped back. He moved his right hand to her front; his finger tickled her clitoris. He moved his left hand over to her breasts; he squeezed her left breast and pinched the nipple; Camilla squealed with pleasure. After several minutes of masturbating her while fondling her breasts and kissing and nuzzling her lips, cheeks, and neck, she orgasmed. He was impressed with her gushing, and enjoyed watching her squat and urinate down a shower drain. After cleaning her genitals of urine and come, she joined him in the change room.

He looked out the door to make sure no one was in the area, then he looked back at her as she reached for her light-green lace panties. With her back to him, she bent over and slowly put them on: he loved looking at the softness of her buttocks as the panties caressed and finally covered them; watching her let the elastic snap against her behind was particularly pleasurable. Then she reached for her brassiere and turned around so he could enjoy watching her put it on. She wiggled her breasts as she put her arms through the shoulder straps. Finally, he watched her put on her pretty white socks, her black shoes, and the white blouse and dark plaid miniskirt of her school uniform. "Is there somewhere private we could go so we can have more fun?" she asked. "I have a free period now."

"Let's go up to my office," he suggested, as she'd hoped he would. As they were walking out of the girls' change area and into the gym, they didn't notice Ms. Callahan watching them. "How many teachers is Camilla going to be slutting it up with?" the English and drama teacher asked herself. 

When Camilla and Mr. Pierce went into his office, Candice was there waiting for him, with a DVD of showering Camilla and Candice playing on his computer monitor. "Let's talk about your filmmaking, Mr. Pierce," Candice said. 



Camilla Ch. 014



"How'd you get in here?" Mr. Pierce angrily demanded. "My office is always locked. This is an invasion of privacy."

Holding up a skeleton key she'd recently bought, Candice retorted, "So is filming girls showering."

"I see," he said as he sat on his chair, with overwhelming shame smeared all over his face. He just sat there, speechless.

"I personally don't mind that you filmed me, sir," Camilla said. "I'm just like that: an exhibitionist."

"I'm not too upset about myself being filmed, either," Candice said. "If you'd stopped with us, we'd have probably arranged a threesome with you, since frankly, we think you're kinda hot-looking."

"We don't mind 'cause we're both eighteen," Camilla added. "But you filmed naked 17-, 16-, 15-, and even 14-year-old girls in the shower room. How could you violate their trust like that? You're our gym teacher." Pierce was visibly shaking from these words.

"A lot of teenage girls are sexually mature for their age these days, like us," Candice said. "But a lot of the girls in our school, especially the freshmen, are sweet, fragile, and innocent. How could you?"

"And why would you keep all the incriminating evidence here, where people could find it?" Camilla asked.

"Because part of me wanted to be caught!" he finally said, breaking out in sobs. "You don't know how conflicted...how ashamed...I am about this."

"You should be ashamed," Candice scolded. "It's pedophilia."

"It's ephebophilia, and there's a difference!" he shouted in angry sobs. "I'm not into children at all; my weakness is for older teenage girls."

"It's still wrong," Camilla said.

"It's still sick," Candice added.

"Yes, you're right," he wept. "Thank you for stopping me. I've sinned. I try to be a good Christian, and I keep failing. It's an addiction that I can't stop...I try and I try. If you want to involve the police, I won't stop you. I deserve to be punished, and only punishment will stop me. God help me...I'm so ashamed of myself." He buried his face in his hands and kept crying loudly.

Camilla and Candice began to be touched by what must have been sincere remorse. If this repentance was fake, Mr. Pierce deserved an Oscar for so convincing a performance. Indeed, he knew there was no way even the best acting could get him out of this: he saw no escape from prison time and a ruined career as a teacher. The girls also remembered confirmed stories they'd heard of him regularly attending Mass and tearfully praying while kneeling on his pew. He clearly wanted to be redeemed and purged of his forbidden desires.

"So, you're only hot for older teenagers, right?" Candice asked in a more subdued tone. "No younger than 14?"

"I don't even like them that young, actually," he said, wiping the tears off his face. "I know you saw a few 'Grade 9' DVDs, but I watched each of them only once--honestly. I know that's still once too many times, but my point is I didn't get excited at all. The same is true of the 'Grade 10' and 'Grade 11' DVDs, for the most part. Only the 'Grade 12' DVDs, especially those with you in them, really got me hot...sorry. Still, what I did was wrong; I'm not trying to excuse myself--just mitigate my sin a bit, if at all possible."

The girls looked carefully in his eyes: was he only trying to win their sympathy and escape punishment? They saw no cunning, hypocrisy, or deceit in his still-fearful face; indeed, he was a male Mary Magdalene with his teary eyes and guilty expression. The girls were softening in their judgment of him.

"Well, it's quite common for men to think some 17-year-old girls are hot, sometimes," Camilla said. "It's wrong, but I wouldn't call it sick."

"Don't excuse me!" he said fearfully. "I'm afraid I'll get into this filth again. Stop me from filming anymore. Have me arrested and fired." He was still shaking.

"Oh, we will stop you from filming, all right," Candice said. "We're confiscating all your DVDs."

"Good," he said. "I have a few at home. I'll give them to you today, as soon as I can."

"You're also getting those cameras out of the shower walls," Camilla said.

"Yes, right now. Let's go," he said nervously, and he quickly led the girls to where he'd hidden the cameras. He removed all of them from their hiding places and smashed them on the ground, right in front of the girls. Camilla and Candice were impressed and amazed at how resolute Mr. Pierce was in his repentance. Their initial disgust at his lechery changed into pity for him and his compulsive desires. "Ever since my wife died two years ago," he said, "I've been a mess." That he was a recent widower, and had been an emotional wreck for a whole year, was well-known all over the school. Both girls were moved by the pain they saw in his eyes. He wasn't a pig; he was human, struggling and falling.

As they returned to his office, he said, "Okay. I guess it's time you told the principal and called the police."

Camilla, closing and locking the office door, said, "Maybe that won't be necessary."

"What?" he said fearfully. "You can't let me off easily. I could do it again."

"Do you promise never to do that again?" Candice asked.

"Of course I'll never do it again," he insisted. "I don't need to promise; I'll be fired and arrested. Still, I promise, never again, for the good of my soul."

"Swear to God, Mary, and the saints," Camilla said.

"I swear, in Jesus' name, I'll never lust after underage girls again," he said in a trembling voice.

"We will check a couple of times every week to make sure no new cameras are put in those holes," Candice said, looking firmly in his eyes.

"Sure, but you won't need to," he said. "I'll be in jail." He was confused at their meaning.

"And we'll check in your office for any DVDs that need to be confiscated," Camilla added.

"I'll give you all of them right now, if you like," he said. "We'll just go to my home and get them; you driving, of course."

"We'll do that soon enough," Candice said, and grabbed his head; she shoved her tongue in his mouth. He yelped in shock at her sudden move. She pulled her tongue out of his mouth and licked his face several times.

"What are you doing?" he asked, shocked and excited at the same time.

"Call it ironic punishment," Candice said while nibbling on his neck. "You want sexy teenage girls, you got 'em. With a catch, though: you have to service us." She started licking and blowing in his ear.

Camilla started undressing while Candice stroked his crotch. Though an erection was growing there, his whole body shook with fear. What were these crazy girls doing? he thought. Didn't they despise him? Didn't they think he was a pervert? Were they mocking him and his shame?

Now nude, Camilla started undressing Candice as Candice unzipped his pants and pulled out his almost fully-erect penis. Candice wanted to kiss all the pain and loneliness out this wretched widower, but she would also use sex to put him in a submissive role to remind him of his shame, and to ensure he would be deterred from ever filming underage girls again. The three lovers lay on the floor. Candice, now with only her blouse and bra on, briefly masturbated him to get his phallus fully erect, then she guided it into her vagina. She moaned as she felt it slowly slide deep inside. Camilla then removed Candice's blouse and bra, and pinched Candice's nipples. Candice squealed with pleasure.

Mr. Pierce lay on his back with Candice riding on him in the cowgirl position. Camilla sat on his face with her buttocks opened so he could tongue both her vulva and anus. Her anus rested against his nose, caressing it, while his tongue went as deep inside her vagina as he could stretch it. He would go back and forth between licking her genitals and anus. Facing each other, the girls could kiss, suck on and fondle each other's breasts while Pierce brought them closer and closer to orgasm.

He was discomfited and addled by the conflicting emotions he was feeling. On the one side, he still felt shame and terror from being caught, and still sensed the danger of being arrested, as well as the danger of falling back into his goatish ways if he was forgiven; on the other side, he was exhilarated at getting lucky with the two girls he lusted after the most. Paradoxically, they were simultaneously pleasing him and punishing him. With Camilla's buttocks wrapped around his face, he couldn't see the beautiful nude girls who were both satisfying him and dominating him.

The two 'tops', however, were enjoying themselves without inhibitions of any kind. Mr. Pierce's phallus, as petrified as he was emotionally, was a perfect fit for Candice, who joyfully went up and down on it, and his frantically busy tongue vibrated against Camilla's vulva and anus in a way that made those two holes seem like the only parts of her whole body, so intense was their stimulation. Still, other areas were stimulated, too: Camilla squealed as Candice squeezed Camilla's breasts and pinched the nipples; Camilla returned the favour by sucking on Candice's breasts and tickling the nipples with her tongue.

Finally, after fingering Camilla's A-spot--a depth that drove her wild--he unwittingly made her orgasm on his face: he almost drowned, it seemed. Candice climaxed shortly afterward, and the girls got up to put their clothes on. Pierce, in a state of shock, put his penis back in his pants and zipped them up. This had been the most thrilling, and the most frightening, day of his life.

He used the Kleenex on his desk to clean Camilla's come off her vulva and his face (it had previously been used for his masturbating). Some come got on her feet: she had him kneel down and wipe them clean, too. When the girls were fully dressed, Candice said, "Let's go to your home now and get those remaining DVDs."

"Yes," he said. "And the police?"

"Forget about it," Camilla said. "As long as you stay good, you're forgiven."

"We'll check every few days to make sure you stay good," Candice said. "We'll check the holes in the shower room regularly for new cameras, and we'll check your office for any DVDs you may have not given us today. Each time we're done with our checks, we'll come in here with you and you'll perform your sexual penance with us. What do you think, Camilla? Should we start wearing black leather and buy some whips and chains?" The girls laughed; Pierce found the idea titillating.

The three of them left the office. Ms. Callahan, hidden, heard the whole sexual encounter.

"So that slut has Candice mixed up in all of this now," she said to herself.



Camilla Ch. 015



That night, twelve of the male teachers at Camilla's school got together for drinks at Chuckie's, a small pub that was several blocks down the street from the school. Grisham, Hanson, and Pierce were among them. Each of them had already drunk several beers, so all twelve of them were quite tipsy. 

"So, in a month, another group of girls is graduating and leaving us forever," Mr. Leroy, a French teacher, said before sipping on his beer. "Who do you think will be missed the most?"

"I'd say Akemi Hamasaki," said Mr. Grisham. "She's made great strides with her English, and she isn't as shy as she used to be. Good for her."

"Well, my vote goes to Camilla Mennon," Mr. Fulson, a math teacher, slurred: everyone froze at the sound of her name. "She's one of the brightest girls at our school, and...well, she has other interesting qualities, too..." He took a gulp of beer while smirking.

"Indeed, she does," said Mr. Burgess, a physics teacher. "And she's easy on the eye."

"Yeah," said Leroy. "Bit of a flirt, too, isn't she?"

"That's putting it mildly!" said Mr. Williams, a chemistry teacher. "I don't think I'm spreading any wild rumours when I say she's the school tramp." Grisham, Hanson, and Pierce were completely silent while all the other men laughed.

"So she's flirted with you, too?" Fulson asked Leroy. "I didn't think I was the only one."

"What did she do with you?" Leroy asked Fulson after belching. 

"Yesterday, she stood by my desk," Fulson began explaining, "and bent over to show me two of her answers to some math questions I gave the class. She held her notebook under her boobs, with her back to the class, so the other girls had no idea what she was doing--I assume this was deliberate. Anyway, while she was showing me her two answers, she also showed me a generous amount of cleavage: no bra--I saw about a millimetre or two of each areola. As she spoke to me in a high-pitched voice, her eyes and mouth were wide open, like those of a dumb blonde: we all know she's a very smart girl, so this ditziness seemed to be affectation, intended to turn me on--it certainly did! As I was saying, with her tits hanging just inches in front of my face, she asked me in that titillatingly ditzy soprano voice, 'Are these two any good?' In a trance, I just stared at them--not her answers, of course--and replied, 'They're both perfect.'" Everyone laughed. 

"She's shown off tit like that to me, too," said Mr. Johnson, a biology teacher. "But not with that kind of voice. With me, she giggles and talks in a slutty voice." Hanson could relate to that completely, but he didn't dare say so. 

"With me, she talks breathily, like Marilyn Monroe," said Burgess. "But she talks normally among the girls." All the other teachers nodded in agreement.

"Of course!" slurred Williams. "The voices are an act to turn us on. For me, she does the slutty voice, too, and I love it! It's like she can read our minds, and know our fantasies to the minutest detail!" As did the other teachers, Grisham totally agreed, but he timidly kept his thoughts to himself. "I'm telling you guys, she wants to fuck every teacher in our school--the men, anyway. You know what I keep hearing her sing, supposedly to herself? Y'know that new song by...what's the singer's name? She's like the new Madonna, or another Lady Gaga,...Oh, yeah, I remember now: Trampauline. You know her new song?"

"I wanna get gang-banged!" Burgess, Johnson, and Mr. Langella (an art teacher) raunchily sang together while hitting their hands on the tables to the rhythm of the song. Then Williams enthusiastically joined in: "I wanna get gang-banged!" They all laughed. 

"I've heard her sing that song, too," said Burgess.

"So have I," said Johnson.

"Same here," said Langella. "I'll bet she'd really like to be gang-banged, and by us. The way she wiggles that beautiful ass of hers as she sings that song, I'm sure she's trying to tell us something." The other three agreed.

"My sister, a neighbour of one of our teachers, told me she saw a beautiful naked blonde girl, Camilla's build and age, walk out of the teacher's house late last Sunday night," said Fulson. Hanson froze at these words. 

"Which teacher?" asked Burgess.

"Not one of us," Fulson lied. Hanson appreciated Fulson's discretion. Before Burgess could inquire further, Fulson told more anecdotes: "Yesterday during our math class, after she flashed her cleavage, I had the girls get in groups to do math problems together. They were standing in their groups, and I walked behind Camilla and gently squeezed her buns. When she looked back at me, with no disapproving look on her face at all, I asked if the girls were having any problems. My hands were still squeezing her ass when she said in that ditzy voice, 'No, sir.' She acted as though I hadn't touched her. After school finished and just about everybody had gone home, I saw Camilla in a nook in the hall by a water fountain. She had changed out of her uniform and into a sexy, skin-tight black outfit. Her back was to me, but she had a compact: she was powdering her face, which was made up like a prostitute. I'll bet she saw me in her mirror as I came up behind her, and this is why: I scooped those beautiful tits of hers in my hands, and wasn't at all shocked; she allowed me to do it!" 

"Oh, yeah!" Williams and Johnson growled in unison. The others listened in lecherous fascination, except for Grisham, Hanson, Pierce, and Mr. Phillips, an overweight and rather morose music teacher.

Fulson continued: "As I continued to fondle her tits, she looked back at me with wide-open eyes and a friendly smile: it was as though I was being a perfect gentleman. In that high-pitched, ditzy voice, she said, 'Oh, hi sir!' As we continued talking, as if nothing sexual was going on at all, I got bolder with my groping; I fondled her ass, and even touched her crotch--the most beautiful camel-toe in human history. She totally allowed me to finger her between the legs! She acted as though I was carrying her books for her, or something."

"What a little bad girl," Leroy said.

"Slut," grunted Phillips.

"No, she's a bitch," said Williams, who sat beside Phillips. "'Cause she'd fuck every man here...except you. And I think we all know why." Williams then patted Phillips's round belly.

"Oh, hardy fuckin' har," Phillips growled bitterly. "All she ever says to me is how pissed off she is about how I graded her last test. She says I was unfairly strict. Fuck her."

"Maybe you should," suggested Burgess. "She does you a sexual favour, you bump up her mark. A hump for a bump." The others laughed. 

"Anyway, what happened with Camilla, Joe?" Johnson asked Fulson.

"Nothing, unfortunately," Fulson answered. "She said she had to rush off somewhere; in that black outfit of hers, we can safely assume it was to fuck someone else. Speaking of rushing off, we'd better go: it's almost eleven-thirty. On a Tuesday night, I don't think we originally intended to keep drinking this long."

Everyone paid his bill, left the pub, and went home, except for Phillips. Depressed and drunk, he walked down the street and found a bar playing rave music. An all-night rave on a Tuesday night? he wondered incredulously. He was about to walk away when he saw, in the most fortuitous encounter of his whole lonely life, Camilla! She was, predictably, wearing a sexy, tight red dress with large holes on each hip to reveal that she was wearing no panties; similarly, the low back of the dress showed that she wasn't wearing a brassiere, either. Apart from her dress, high heels, and bright makeup, she was nude. Seeing the way her head slowly swayed left and right, and how dazed she looked with her wide-open eyes and mouth, he could easily tell that she was on drugs. Curious and aroused, he went into the almost empty bar. 

She saw him. "Mr. Phillips! Hi!" she shouted over the deafeningly loud drum and bass pounding from the speakers. She quickly went over to him and hugged him. "How are you?"

"Oh, okay, I guess," he said. "That's the friendliest you've ever been to me, by a mile."

"Oh, yeah," she said as she chewed gum. "I'm on ecstasy right now. It's 'the love drug': it would make you friends with your worst enemy; I hope you don't mind my being high. Don't tell anybody at school, okay?"

"Don't worry about that," he assured her. "We teachers aren't any moral improvement, that's for sure." They found a table and sat down. 

"I'm sorry I got mad at you in music class last Friday. I just don't think my grade was fair."

"Well, maybe I can reconsider it."

"Good; thanks. That makes me feel a lot better; if I can get a better grade in music, it will give me a better chance to get into the university I want to get into this September." Her whole body was vibrating and sparkling with pleasure from the MDMA, on which she was peaking now. "I'm on X because I've been kinda down and lonely. You seem depressed, too. What's wrong?"

"Just lonely, I guess," he said. "Just like you."

"My roommate's out with a new guy she met," she said. Though she had no intention at all of turning him on, she just prated on, propelled by the ecstasy: "I think they're gonna fuck tonight, and she wants to have our apartment all to herself. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping at my mom's home, because I hate that bitch. So I need to find a lover. Bates Massage didn't have any guys I was interested in: I jerked off only fat, ugly guys. Yuck! Luvlee's, the strip-joint I do lap-dances at, is closed again for repairs, because the fuckin' electricity is fucked again, so I can't find any cock there, either. I came here, because nothing else is going to be open this late; but of course, nobody's here. I took half a pill of E to cheer me up, and I'm peaking now, but I still have no one to fu--"

Suddenly Phillips grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her hard. She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to slide in, even though his beer breath only augmented how unattractive she found him. Still, she allowed him to kiss her for as long as he wanted to, because she enjoyed making love on general principle. After about twenty seconds of French kissing, he let go.

"Wow," she said. "You're hot for me, sir? I never knew. Even though I'm dressed hot, I didn't think you'd go for it; you've always seemed too uptight for that."

"Sorry," he said, afraid that she'd tell people. "I shouldn't have done that." He got up and was about to leave, but she took his hand and gently led him back to sit with her. 

"It's OK. I'm not mad," she said calmly. "It's just sex; don't make a big thing out of it."

"You mean, you want me?" he asked hopefully.

"I wouldn't say that," she said, trying to hide a sneer. "You're not my type, sir. Sorry."

"I know: fat and ugly; yuck!" In a snit, he was about to leave again, but she held his hand and kept him with her.

"Don't worry about your looks, sir. Here's the deal: a hand job is fifty dollars; a blow job, a hundred; fuck my pussy, two hundred; anal, three hundred. You can have me for an hour, OK? Try to give me pleasure--it's in your best interests. The more pleasure you give me, the less you have to pay. If you don't please me at all, though, I'll be frank about it, and you'll have to pay in full. Sorry in advance if that hurts your feelings. Anyway, is it a deal?"

He nodded in agreement, and she touched the bulge in his pants. His erection surprised and impressed her: its size felt just like Grisham's. "Wow," she said. "There's more to you than meets the eye."

********************

In his apartment twenty minutes later, she unzipped his pants and pulled out his phallus, eager to find out how close it really resembled Grisham's. Indeed, it seemed a clone of the penis that had so pleased her the preceding week. He lay on the floor on his back. She quickly got out of her dress and removed her high heels: Phillips stared in awe at her perfect nude body. She got on top of him. Full of expectation, she correctly assumed his phallus would feel exactly like Grisham's when it went inside her. The night was as fortuitous for her as it had been for him. She closed her eyes and imagined she was with Grisham instead of Phillips as she aimed her vagina over the now fully-erect member. 

She felt the knob push against her wet vaginal opening. She was now vibrating with ecstasy from two sources: the half pill she'd taken almost an hour earlier, and Phillips's erection. As it slowly slid deeper and deeper inside her, she sighed at ever higher pitches. She felt the same thrill go up her spine and throughout her body as she'd felt with Grisham during their night together. Still not fully over her crush on him, she could easily imagine she was with him again, and she screamed, "Oh! Mr. Grisham! I love you!", as Phillips's phallus went in deep and then out, over and over again, massaging all her vaginal walls from top to bottom. 

Though it annoyed him to hear another man's name as he made love with her (and confirmed the gossip he'd heard from Ms. Callahan), he was in an ecstasy of his own, feeling the moistness of her lovely, tight vagina, watching her large, round breasts bounce up and down, and squeezing her soft buttocks: his hands opened her anal cleft wide, and he rubbed his fingers against her anus. He thought, fuck you, Williams, I got lucky with the slut, too! 

The mildly psychedelic feelings of the MDMA made it easy for her to believe she was really with Grisham, and the love and affection the drug inspired in her heightened her excitement all the more. Finally, her voice squealing in the whistle register, she came, and messed up his pants. She got off of him, and was on all fours beside him. They both groaned and panted for several minutes. 

"So," he began after catching his breath, "that's two hundred bucks?"

"No," she sighed. "That was for free." 



Camilla Ch. 016



Camilla slept over at Phillips's apartment and went back to hers early the next morning. She felt a little uncomfortable from the after-effects of the MDMA, but two aspirin helped her enough to function effectively for Wednesday, her last day of school before the final exams.

During her free period at school, after studying for her oral test for Mr. Leroy's French class, she went through the halls looking for Mr. Grisham. She saw him--with his back to her. She'd written a small note for him (immediately after learning from her boss's wife at Luvlee's that their electrical problems were over), and when she got behind her teacher she put it in his back pants pocket. The hall was empty of people at the time, so she could get away with that, as well as with caressing his behind before walking away. He pulled out the note: it read, "Come to Luvlee's tonight and I'll give you a blow job. You can do anal with me in the private room, too. Love, Camilla."

*****************************************

That night at Luvlee's, Camilla could only think of Grisham coming over. She so wanted to revive her passion with her English teacher that she did her floor shows and lap-dances most absent-mindedly. Indeed, there would be some sexual fire between her and her school's faculty that night, but not with Grisham.

Mr. Leroy walked into the strip-tease bar at about 7 PM after hearing rumours about Camilla working there. (Earlier that day, standing by his desk in French class, she'd given him the same cleavage display she'd given Fulson; she'd even 'accidentally' displayed a bit of her panties while lifting up her skirt to scratch her hip. As with Fulson, she also played the role of 'ditzy blonde', a persona she privately called 'Dolly', because she knew it excited him.)

When she saw him walking across the bar looking for a table, she went up to him and they hugged. He may not have been Grisham, but at least he was a man in whom she had a sexual interest. "Hi, sir!" she said with 'Dolly's' high-pitched voice and girlie giggle. True to the character of 'Dolly', with wide-open eyes and a grin from ear to ear, she asked, "I didn't expect to see you here."

He refrained from saying that he did expect to see her--all of her--there. Instead, he said, "That's a lovely bikini you're wearing."

"Thank you!" she said. "But it's not a bikini; it's my underwear--do you like it?" She pushed out her breasts and behind, and turned around, bending over so he could see her bra and panties from all angles. Now bent all the way over, and with her behind pointed straight at him, she swayed her bottom left to right while looking back at him to see if she was pleasing him.

"It's beautiful," he said. "But it's not what you had on at school today. That underwear is light blue; you were wearing white panties at school today."

Straightening up and turning around, she feigned wide-eyed surprise and asked, "How did you know I wore white underwear at school?" With her chest pushed out, she fidgeted like a little girl, her hips moving side to side.

"In French class today, you pulled up your skirt to scratch your hip, and some of your panties were showing. Some people might think you meant to do that." She giggled in pretend embarrassment.

"You wanna see me naked?" she asked, as if 'Dolly' were a six-year-old innocently asking a new girl friend if she wanted to play hopscotch with her.

"Yes, I do," he said bluntly and with a touch of sexual aggression in his voice.

"OK," she said nonchalantly, and without even waiting till they'd gone into a private room, she casually removed her lace brassiere and panties in front of him and every staring man in the bar, and kicked off her high heels, all as though she were alone in her bedroom. When the bra came off, she wiggled her breasts and had her eyes and mouth wide open, as if getting naked in front of so many leering men were nothing for a young girl to be nervous about. Her boldness, all done with an affected naivete, inspired a big bulge in his pants. She then turned around so he could see all of her. "So, do I look good naked?" she asked, as if she were asking his opinion of a new dress.

"Let me put it to you this way," he said as he looked up and down in amazement at her large breasts, round buttocks and trim pubic hair (which had been growing back rather quickly since Monday morning's shaving). "There should be a law against you ever wearing clothes."

"Thank you," she said while standing with her legs wide apart. Her back was to him, and she bent over to pick up her underwear and heels. She said, "Let's find a private room. Twenty dollars a song; I'll lap-dance you, and you can touch every part of my body--even inside. Just be gentle, OK?" He stared with hungry eyes at her anus and vulva, respectively a tiny chocolate candy atop a strawberry eclair. Looking back up at him and noticing his lustful daze, she stayed bent over so he could continue enjoying a free peak.

After a few seconds more, he snapped out of his lecherous stupor and asked, "Well, are we going?"

"Do you wanna look some more first?" she offered. "I don't mind. You seem interested in what you see." Sweet 'Dolly' wanted to show her ogler some consideration.

"OK, for a few more seconds." He studied every wrinkle and fold on both holes. "OK," he said, she straightened up, and they went in a private room. A new song began, and she sat on his lap, grinding on his erection as he fondled her soft breasts. She accurately estimated his erection at about six and a half inches in length. She was quite fortunate to go to a school with so many well-endowed men.

"Do you like how my body feels, sir?" she asked, always in 'Dolly's' ditzy voice, even though it was obvious to her that he did like it.

"Oh, yeah," he groaned with delight. He knew she was much smarter than she was acting, but he appreciated how she pretended to be slow-witted to enhance his fantasy: it made her seem easier to seduce, even though it was actually she who was slowly seducing him. Williams was right! She seemed to have a sixth sense about how to know a man's exact fantasy and be it, right in front of him.

She got up and bent over with wide-open legs so her anus and vulva were clearly exposed. She stroked his erection as he fingered her anus, opening and closing it over and over again. Pretending to be naively unaware of the pleasure a man can get from anal sex, she said, "That's what I poop through, sir," in 'Dolly's' high-pitched girlie voice.

"That's right, sweetheart," he panted.

"But men put their thing in here," she 'corrected', opening her vagina. "Don't they?" She looked back at him upside-down from between her legs, with 'confused' eyes and pursed lips.

"And in here, sometimes," he said, opening her anus again. He loved how she pretended not to know anything about his lecherous hopes, and how she acted as though there was no reason to disapprove morally of how she showed herself off and indulged his groping. "Why'd you become a stripper?"

"Because all the men I know are always trying to take my clothes off," she said matter-of-factly.

"Imagine that," he said as she straightened up and pushed her buttocks against his face. He opened them up and wrapped their softness around his face while pressing kisses on her anus and all over her anal cleft. He loved how she completely allowed him to do that.

"If men always want to see me bare-naked," she said as he continued to kiss and lick her anus and vulva, "I got to thinking: hmmm--why not become a lap-dancer? I'll make lots of money, and it's so easy: getting paid just to take off all of my clothes and show men what all of my body looks like. Anyone can take off their clothes and show people their body," she said with a feigned naivete that only got him more excited.

"You think taking your clothes off in front of horny men is easy?" he asked incredulously.

"Sure. Most men here are really nice to me. When the bad ones come, the bouncers take care of 'em." She turned around, spread her legs, and wrapped them around his neck. He licked her vulva to orgasm. Giggling as he licked her come off his face, 'Dolly' said, "Your face is all gooey."

When he ran out of money, they left the private room and went towards the front door outside. She was still naked, having put her purse in a safe place before following him outside.

"You're really uninhibited, aren't you?" he asked the insouciantly nude girl as they stood together on the street by the door.

"This is good for business," she explained. "The men see me naked, and come in the bar. As long as the police don't see me, I'm okay." Many men walking by were smiling at her; 'Dolly' smiled back.

"Do you wanna come home with me?" he asked. Going along with the fantasy that she naively didn't know what he really wanted to do with her, he said, "You can practice with me for your oral test tomorrow."

"Sorry, I'm waiting for someone tonight," she said, still hoping Grisham would come. "We can talk about getting together when I do my oral on you...my oral test with you tomorrow. Bye."

He said goodbye and left, and she walked back into Luvlee's, followed by some eager men as she'd expected. She did some lap-dances for them, then it was her turn to go onstage. She put her underwear and shoes back on and started her floorshow. Her first song was Trampauline's 'Gang-banged.' With no Grisham to dance for, she didn't show the same joie de vivre for the song that her teachers had seen her show when she sang it in their classes. Her second song was 'Baby Got Back', by Sir Mix-a-Lot. The bra and panties came off, yet had Grisham been there, she would have shaken that healthy butt much more. Her heels came off, and her last song, "Inside My Love," by Minnie Riperton, began. Again, with her back to the audience, she was dejected from the lack of male faculty from her school.

Little did she know, though, that her school's male faculty had come, even if not Grisham. Among those twelve teachers who'd drunk together at Chuckie's, two quiet teachers sat and listened eagerly as the others gossiped about Camilla: Mr. Rudolph, who taught computers, and Mr. Matotek, who taught accounting and business. They'd also heard of Camilla stripping in Luvlee's, and couldn't contain their curiosity. These two teachers came into the strip-tease bar and approached the tip rail, looking up at the beautiful naked blonde girl on the stage, with her back to them as her third song began.

"Please be Camilla," Matotek said to himself as he watched her slowly turn around.

Facing them now, she saw them...and they saw their student...every lovely inch of her. They looked in lustful awe at her perfect nakedness. She smiled and giggled in surprise and embarrassment at the shock of suddenly realizing two of her teachers were studying her nudity, having not expected that they'd know she was even stripping there, let alone come there to see her naked. Though blushing at first, she quickly started to breathe heavily with sexual excitement, and she got her exhibitionistic enthusiasm back. She joyfully got down on the floor and spread her legs before the men, who were now sitting at the tip rail. Mr. Rudolph salivated at the sight of her pretty pink vulva; when she turned around and got on all fours with her legs still spread wide open and her behind pointing at her teachers, Mr. Matotek drooled at the sight of her bronze-coloured anus.

*****************************************

Fortunately for all three lovers-to-be, Rudolph and Matotek shared an apartment.

Several hours later, having quickly grabbed a small, thin pink dress, she went with them to their home. Though she was disappointed by Grisham's not showing up, she was cheered up by the prospect of getting her first double-penetration.

They tore her dress off violently as if to rape her (though you cannot rape the willing, can you?), and she kicked off her high heels. She wasn't wearing her underwear, so all the men had to do now was unzip their pants and pull out their hardening phalluses. Camilla took her anal lube out of her purse and gave it to eager Matotek. Rudolph lay on the living room floor on his back. Camilla, crawling on all fours, went over him and aimed his now fully-erect penis at her wet vagina. Matotek got behind her as she had Rudolph's knob pushing against her vaginal opening; Matotek started lubricating her anus and rectum. Rudolph slid his member inside, and she moaned from that penetration as well as that of Matotek's finger pushing deep inside her rectum. After lubricating his phallus, Matotek was ready, and he carefully slid inside her rectum, synchronizing his entry with Rudolph's pushing inside her vagina. Both men now were going in her at the same time and out of her at the same time, in a perfectly coordinated rhythm. It was somewhat awkward, but they all loved it: the men were moaning, and she was screaming with a pleasure of an intensity she'd never experienced before. Finally, after about ten minutes of her holes being thoroughly probed, she squealed in the whistle register and came all over Rudolph's penis and pants. Not quite satisfied yet, the men then pulled out of her holes and masturbated over her face. She made glugging sounds as she felt their come drench her face.

They sat in silence for several minutes to regain their breath.

At last, Camilla weakly sang, "I wanna get gang-banged."



Camilla Ch. 017



Matotek drove Camilla home at about 7:30 the next morning. She insisted on going nude even after he offered her a T-shirt and shorts of his own; one must remember how he and Mr. Rudolph had torn her dress off the night before. He dropped her off in the basement parking lot by the elevator and drove away. She took her cell-phone out of her purse and called Candice.

"Hello?" said Candice.

"Hi, it's me," said Camilla. "Are you with your boyfriend?"

"No, he didn't come over. I'm going to his apartment tonight, so you can have the place all to yourself and Grisham, or with whoever. Were you with him last night?"

"No, I slept with someone else. Grisham stood me up. Anyway, I'm home and getting on the elevator. I'm also naked. Can you get the door for me? Bye." Camilla hung up and got in the elevator.

When Camilla got to her floor and got out of the elevator, she casually walked down the hall to her apartment with only high heels and bright makeup on. Her next-door neighbour, in the apartment after hers on the same side of the hall, was a man in his late thirties; he was watching her through the crack of his slightly-ajar door. She smiled and waved at him while Candice opened their door to let her in. 

*************************

At school later that morning, neither Camilla nor the other girls wore their uniforms because now the regular school days had ended, and it was final test time. (The principal decided to be nice during these last few days of the school year, and he let the girls dress however they pleased.) Camilla wore a tight yellow T-shirt that her nipples poked out of (no bra), and denim Daisy Duke shorts. Already low-cut enough to show some buttock cleavage, they had a small triangle cut at the back centre where her anal cleft was, thereby exposing even more buttock cleavage, or 'bleavage', as Camilla liked to call it (she wasn't wearing panties, either). To avoid getting into trouble, for most of the day she had her shirt tucked into her shorts, but when it was safe, and a teacher she liked was near, she pulled the shirt up and tied the bottom material of it to expose her midriff and 'bleavage'. 

It was her turn to do her French oral test with Mr. Leroy, and she went into his classroom. He had to leave the room temporarily, so she was alone there for the moment. She raised and tied her shirt to expose her tempting areas. She sat on her chair next to his chair and desk; she put the back of the chair to her left so he could see the 'bleavage' as she sat with her torso bent forward. She looked on the desk where his paper of questions for her lay. They were obviously prepared only for her, for these were the questions:

Ou sont tes seins? ('Where are your breasts?')

Est-ce que tes cheveux pubiens sont longs ou coupes? ('Is your pubic hair long or trimmed?') 

Est-ce que ton vagin est entre tes jambes? ('Is your vagina between your legs?')

Ou est ton trou de cul? ('Where is your asshole?')

Laissez-moi te toucher.  ('Let me touch you.')

Trouvez mon pénis. ('Find my penis.')

Caressez-le. ('Fondle it.')

He came into the classroom quietly and closed and locked the door as silently as he could. She heard him coming, but pretended not to hear. Admiring her two inches of exposed 'bleavage', he got behind her and scooped her breasts in his greedy hands. She, of course, allowed him to. 

"Oh, hi sir," she said in 'Dolly's' voice as she turned her head to see him. She acted as though he were a gentleman tipping his hat to greet her. As he continued fondling her breasts, she asked, "How are you?"

"Tres bien," he said as he squeezed her breasts gently. He let go of them and sat down. "Let's begin." She started giggling 'in embarrassment'. "Why are you giggling?" he asked.

She got up, blushed, and fidgeted like a little girl. "You know what I look like bare-naked." She giggled some more.

"Yes, I do," he said while touching her behind, feeling for her anal cleft. "You sure showed me everything last night at Luvlee's." Rubbing his finger along her anal cleft, he said, "This is really nice." 

"Thank you," she said, and turned around to show off her buttock cleavage. "I thought you would like it. I know you like my bum." She bent over, and he opened her buttocks at the top to get a look at her anus. "I saw your questions," she said. "To answer them right, I'd better take my clothes off." She straightened up, turned around, and unzipped her shorts, acting as if all of this were a standard part of a school test. 

"Yes, you should undress," he said as her shorts started sliding down her hips. She swayed from left to right while removing her shirt, which came off as her shorts touched the floor. Now nude, she kicked off her high heels. "Ou sont tes seins?" he asked. 

"Ils sont ici (They are here)," she answered while fondling her breasts. When he asked the second question, about whether her pubic hair was long or trimmed, she answered, "Recemment coupes (Recently trimmed)," while running her fingers through her pubic hair. As he asked the third question, about if her vagina was between her legs, she got on his desk and spread her legs. "Oui," she answered as she opened her vagina for his hungry eyes. She looked back at those eyes with an 'innocent' expression on her face, as if she were simply showing him her homework. 

"Ou est ton trou de cul?" was his next question. She got up on all fours on his desk with her behind pointing at his face. Opening her buttocks wide so he could see her anus, she said, "Ici, entre mes fesses (Here, between my buttocks)."

"Laissez-moi te toucher," he said while fingering her vagina and anus.

"Pas de problème (No problem)," she said in sighs.

"Trouvez mon pénis," he said in pants. "Caressez-le." She got off the desk, stayed bent over before him with her legs wide open so he could see her anus and vulva, and unzipped his pants. She put her hand in, slipped it under his underwear, and stroked his half-erect penis. 

After a few minutes of pleasurable petting, and Leroy's tongue dancing on her vagina and anus to the point of near orgasm, suddenly someone was heard trying to open the locked door to Leroy's classroom. 

"Why's this oral test taking so long? There are other students waiting," Ms. Callahan demanded to know. "Why's the door locked?"

"It isn't," Leroy said while zipping up his pants. Camilla reached for her clothes. "Something's wrong with it; it's hard to open sometimes."

"Nonsense," Callahan said. The sound of tinkling keys was heard. "I've never had a problem with this door."

Camilla frantically put her T-shirt on. Leroy held her shorts for her as she put each leg in them. 

A key was heard slipping in the keyhole as Camilla was pulling up her shorts. The door was thrown open quickly. When Ms. Callahan finally saw what was going on, Camilla was dressed, except she was zipping up her shorts. Her shoes weren't on, either. 

"Getting dressed, Camilla?" Callahan asked.

"No, just adjusting my zipper," Camilla said indignantly as she started putting her shoes on. 

"Why aren't your shoes on?" Callahan inquired with smile of suspicion.

"My feet were sore, so I took 'em off," Camilla said, even more defensively. "Do you mind?" Camilla stormed out the the classroom in a huff. Bitch, she thought. Callahan just smiled as she let the next boy in Leroy's room for his oral test. "Carry on, Monsieur Leroy." She, still smiling, closed the door and walked away. Leroy just shook in his seat. 

*********************************************************************

That afternoon between tests, Camilla met Leroy in the hall. "That was a closer shave than my pubes," 'Dolly' said of Callahan with a giggle. 

"Yes, it was," he said. "We should meet tonight. Come to my place. I'll cook dinner for you."

"You come to my place," she said. "I'll cook for you. My roommate won't be there, and I can be bare-naked for you the whole time."

"Sounds great," he said. "I can be there around ten. Where do you live?"

She gave him her Luvlee's card. "My address and phone number are on the back. I'll see you tonight at ten." She left him, and went to Mr. Pierce's office. When she told Candice on her cell-phone that she was going to his office, Candice said she would be late; she was told to do something that would take a while--she didn't know how long. Candice said she'd already checked the shower area for new hidden cameras--there were none--and that Mr. Pierce had been kept busy helping Candice doing what she had to do. They would both get to his office later for his 'sexual penance': Camilla would have to wait for both of them. They hung up. 

She opened Pierce's office with Candice's skeleton key. She went in, and looked around his desk for any new burned DVDs of showering girls. There were none. 

She'd been waiting for about three minutes before the door opened; it wasn't, however, Candice and Pierce.

It was Ms. Callahan.

The drama teacher walked in and closed the door behind her.

"What are you doing here?" Camilla asked nervously.

"What are you doing here, I think, is the relevant question," Callahan said.

"Waiting for Mr. Pierce," Camilla said. "He needs me to...do something for him."

"I'm sure you do plan to...do something with him."

"You got a problem with that?"

"Yes, I do, actually," Callahan said, locking the door. "I know what you've been dong with the male teachers here. I have proof of your slutting around with them. I have pictures of you with Mr. Hanson at Lehar's and in a park--naked. I have MP3 recordings of intimate conversations of you with Mr. Grisham, and of you, Mr. Pierce, and your best friend Candice...'doing something'. It's not fair, Camilla."

Camilla started crying. "What do you want?" she asked.

"It'd be a shame if you and Candice had to be expelled and put in some kind of reform school," Callahan said while approaching the sobbing Camilla. "So soon before graduating, and with such potential in you, Camilla, as a future university student, with your excellent academic record. It's all so unfair." Callahan put her hand on Camilla's shoulder.

"What do you want?" Camilla sobbed.

"I don't want you to get in trouble," Callahan said 'comfortingly' with her arm around Camilla. "I don't want to stop your little set-up with your teachers; I want to get in on it. It's only fair."

"What do you mean?" Camilla asked with growing suspicion.

"Call this 'ironic punishment'," Callahan said. "Undress for me." 



Camilla Ch. 018



"You're hot for me?" Camilla asked with a shudder.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Ms. Callahan asked. "You are sooooo easy on the eye. Yes, I conform to the radical feminist stereotype: I am a lesbian. Come on, you, off with your clothes, if you and Candice want to graduate."

This was a first for Camilla: not wanting to show someone her naked body. Normally she loved to see the thrill in people's eyes as she revealed the delicious candy she had hidden under her bra and panties...if she was displaying herself to people she liked. But Camilla hated Ms. Callahan, for the sour teacher resembled Camilla's mother both in body and in personality, always berating the girl and interfering. Camilla felt almost as though she was about to be sexually abused. 

Camilla's shorts fell to the floor, and Callahan ogled her student's pubic hair, deliberately as if she were a lecherous old man. "You have the cutest little pubic hair," Callahan grunted.

Camilla, with her lip quivering, looked away to the wall as she pulled up her shirt, for she didn't want to see Callahan's face as she bared her breasts. For once, she didn't shake them when the shirt came off.

"Oh, Camilla," Callahan moaned in awe at the flawless bosom in front of her. "They're sensational." Tears started running down Camilla's cheeks as she kicked off her shoes. "I knew you were beautiful, but I never imagined a girl could be this lovely. Turn around, baby; let me see the rest of you."

Fully-nude Camilla turned around so Callahan could see her buttocks. "Oh, yeah," Callahan growled in the voice of a lustful male viewer of pornography. "Baby got back!" Camilla shivered and shrieked when Callahan caressed her buttocks, where her anal cleft spread out to her horizontal gluteal crease. "Bend over, cupcake: let's see what goodies you have down there."

Audibly sobbing, Camilla opened her legs in a Lambda shape and bent over so Callahan could see her anus and vulva. For the first time in her life, Camilla felt sexually humiliated. How awful it was that this sow of a woman, a self-styled feminist, was objectifying her! 

Eyeing Camilla's anus for the first time, Callahan mocked, "Wow, so that's what you poop through." The lecherous English and drama teacher chuckled to herself. "And what a pretty pussy you have." Callahan then stroked Camilla's vulva. Looking back at Callahan upside-down from between her wide-open legs, Camilla could only frown, her tears dripping on and off her eyebrows. "OK, sweetie, get up and on the desk and spread 'em." Callahan spanked the girl's behind as she straightened up and crawled on the desk. Camilla got on her back and spread her legs. Callahan bent over and brought her face closer to Camilla's vulva. "You see, Camilla, the way you now feel is how women do when they are forced to have sex with men they don't like: degraded," Callahan explained before giving Camilla's clitoris a few licks. "That's why you shouldn't be a tramp; it encourages the potential rapist in all men." Callahan licked Camilla a few more times and said, "You slut it up for the men you like, but one day the men--and women like me--that you don't like will force themselves on you." After a few more licks, Callahan added, "and sometimes the man you tempt rapes other women, the respectable ones." She sucked and licked Camilla's clitoris some more, then said, "Are you enjoying this? You should: I'm Harriet Callahan the horniest clit-ma'am." She continued licking.

Something surprising was happening to Camilla: she was actually starting to enjoy the oral sex!  Once again, a woman's sensitivity was proved best for performing cunnilingus. Camilla started sighing and squealing with pleasure; another first that day--'Dirty Harriet' was making Camilla feel good! Encouraged and moaning herself, the teacher licked, sucked, kissed, and gently nibbled with more enthusiasm now. Thus absorbed in her virtual devouring of Camilla's genitals, Callahan didn't notice her unlikely lover turn on a digital camera set to take video of Callahan going down on her. Stopping to take licks between each phrase, Callahan said, "Men...can't give women pleasure...the way a woman can...Men have sex...only for...their own pleasure..." Callahan never looked up from Camilla's vulva, so Camilla could freely record Callahan's face and voice, as well as the rest of the room so it would be visually evident to the first-time viewer that the sex was happening in their school. 

"Oh, Ms. Callahan," Camilla moaned very articulately for the camera. "Ms. Callahan!" Camilla was approaching orgasm.

"Men are so selfish...," Callahan continued, alternating licks with phrases. "They humiliate women...coming on girls' faces...they love doing...that to women: disgusting!..." Just then, Camilla sprayed her orgasm all over Callahan's face. (Camilla loved doing...that to Callahan.) 

"What the f...!" Callahan yelled in disgust, getting up quickly as Camilla safely hid her camera in her purse. Callahan frantically grabbed some Kleenex from the box on the desk to wipe her face clean. Camilla fought back her laughter, saying, "Sorry, ma'am. I'm a gusher."

After removing the worst of the mess, Callahan stormed out of the office in extreme embarrassment, leaving the door wide open. Camilla remained lying naked, spread-eagle on the desk, laughing loudly and uncontrollably for several minutes. "Everything that goes around, comes around," she said, and laughed some more. Then Candice and Mr. Pierce came in the room, surprised yet aroused to see Camilla lying as she was. Camilla merrily said, "Hi guys. Let's fuck." 

**************************

That night in their apartment, Camilla and Candice were waiting for Mr. Leroy to arrive. Candice would leave soon after to go to her boyfriend's apartment, but Camilla wanted her to be with them briefly when Leroy arrived. 

"Remember to open my butt-cheeks when you grab my ass," Camilla, naked as always, told Candice. "I want him to see my asshole. He likes it."

"Why do you indulge guys like that?" Candice asked as she tickled Camilla's clitoris. 

"'Cause it pleases them," Camilla sighed.

"Why is 'pleasing men' so important to you? What about pleasing yourself?" Hearing the doorbell, Candice went to open the door.

"Pleasing men is pleasing myself. By turning men on, I build a tower from the flaccid. It's the art of sexual architecture."

"I see," Candice laughed as she opened the door. "Hi Mr. Leroy. Come on in." He walked in, nervous to know Candice knew about him and Camilla. "Don't worry, sir; I won't tell anyone." Candice went behind Camilla, put her arms around her, and started fondling her breasts. "You're gonna have soooo much fun with this body, sir." Camilla turned around so Candice could open her buttocks and expose her anus to Leroy, who was practically drooling at the lesbian pageant before his mesmerized eyes. The girls pecked each other on the lips a few times, and after letting Candice tickle her clitoris, Camilla walked over to the door to close it. She saw Dr. Singh opening his door across the hall, and she casually walked into the hallway to let him look at and briefly fondle her naked body. In 'Marilyn's' breathy voice, she promised she'd make some time to see Singh again soon. As they were talking, that other neighbour with his door ajar, the man in the room opposite Singh's and next to Camilla's, was ogling her body and Singh's roving hands. 

Camilla said good night to Singh, smiled at the other neighbour, and went back into her apartment. As Candice walked to the door with her purse, she said, "Mr. Leroy, have fun with her, but be gentle, okay? Don't hurt her or anything."

"Of course," he said, and Candice left, closing the door behind her.

Dinner would be ready in a few minutes, so as they waited, Camilla posed erotically for Leroy, who sat on the sofa. Camilla bent over, her legs wide open in a Lambda, and happily exposed her anus and vulva for him. Looking back at him upside-down from between her legs, she could only smile. He just enjoyed the show. 

Dinner was then ready, and they sat and ate.

"You got 100 on your oral test," he said.

"Hooray!" Camilla cheered and giggled in the voice of 'Dolly'. They continued eating and chatting about various things about school, her always in the persona of ditzy 'Dolly', with her high-pitched voice. When they finished dinner and put the plates in the kitchen sink, Camilla felt a rumbling in her bowels. "Oh, no!" she squeaked. "I have to go poo-poo!" She wiggled her behind in a dance.

"Can I watch?" he asked.

"But it's so icky-smelling," she said with a 'confused' look as they went in the bathroom.

"Not if you do it, goddess, I'm sure," he insisted as she sat on the toilet.

"Oh, that's so sweet," she said with a grin, as if he'd complimented her eyes. First she urinated with her legs open for him to see. She looked up at him innocently, as if there were nothing at all embarrassing about someone watching her pee. This was easy for her; she was used to it. When the faeces came out, however, she--staying in character as 'Dolly'--fought hard to hide her embarrassment and nervousness at first, naturally assuming he'd grimace at the odour. But the coprophiliac obviously liked the smell! He clearly also liked the plopping sound as well as the sound of her breaking wind. For Leroy, the experience of her flawless, peach-coloured, curvaceous nude body sitting on the toilet, her round buttocks caressing the seat, juxtaposed with the crude odours and sounds of nature, was extremely arousing. On the other hand, this was the most bizarre sexual experience Camilla had had yet! Still, always in her 'Dolly' persona, she kept the innocent, unabashed look on her face as she looked up at him, lips pursed and eyes wide open, soon perfectly confident that Leroy was loving every second of her defecation. When she finished, he asked if he could wipe her clean. "OK," 'Dolly' intoned in a singsong voice, as if she were simply letting him get a chair for her. She got on all fours on the floor in front of the still-unflushed toilet. He got some toilet paper as she pushed her behind out so he could see her muddy anus. She looked back at him, always in her 'Dolly' face as he carefully and thoroughly wiped the brown off her anus. "Why do you like that?" she asked, as if he were a boy playing with an unusual toy. "Poo is so icky." 

"Not if it's your poo," he insisted. "I wanna worship you, lovely sex-goddess Camilla, all of you, even your dirtiest parts. If I can't appreciate your lowest aspects, I won't be worthy of your loftiest ones." 

"You are so sweet, sir," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Now I've got to be really clean. I need an enema." She got her aluminum enema nozzle from the medicine cabinet while he looked adoringly at her droppings in the toilet water. As she got the nozzle ready, she tried to hide her sneers at his paraphilia. When the nozzle was ready, she handed it to him and asked, "Can you put it in?" 

"With pleasure," he said, and put the nozzle in her anus; then she squatted over the toilet. She stroked his crotch: he had quite an impressive erection, long and thick, and his excitement was all because of her faeces! The liquid went in: she felt cramping, a powerful peristalsis, extreme urgency and a complete and speedy evacuation of all the brown that was left in her lower intestinal tract; she moaned with pleasure--she loved that sensation. He had his strange paraphilia; she had hers. 

She went in the shower and briefly washed the urine off her vulva; she also soaped up her anus so it would have a nice, fresh smell. She rinsed, got out and dried herself off, and he finally flushed the toilet. She sprayed the bathroom with air freshener, then they went into the bedroom. She got on the bed on all fours with her legs spread wide open and her behind pushed out so he could see her vulva and her wide-open anus--clean as a whistle, inside and out. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his fully-erect penis. "Let me show you another use for the anus," he said.

"Stuff only goes out of it, though, not in," 'Dolly' said 'naively', with pursed lips.

"Let me show you 'going in it'," he said, pressing his knob against her anus. 

"OK," 'Dolly' said as though she were merely trying a new kind of tea. Only willing to go so far with pretending to be the ingenue who's never had anal sex before, she reached for some anal lube in her bedside table drawer. She gave it to him, he lubed his phallus and her rectum, and slowly slid inside. 

"Oooh," she squealed in near whistle register as he went all the way in. He was so long, it seemed to her as if he were almost touching her stomach; this was also the widest her anus had been stretched open. She kept squealing each time he went out and back in, her eyes widening in 'surprise' at the 'novel' sensation, though the only novelty for her was his massive size. He saw her 'surprised Dolly' face in the mirror on the wall over the head of the bed. He knew the obviously intelligent girl was just pretending to be ditzy, but he loved it all the same; she, the consummate actress, knew how to be any man's fantasy. 

"Oh, that's...so tight," he grunted. "How does...it feel...for you?" 

"Like a great...big poop...coming back...in after...I poo-poo," she sighed, though of course his huge phallus didn't feel that way at all: she just said that to please him. And he was pleasing her: his phallus rubbed against the anal wall that was next to her vaginal wall; it was like indirect vaginal sex with a well-endowed man. As he kept on digging inside her, she noticed a small hole just between the mirror and the head of the bed. Inside the hole was a hidden camera, like those Mr. Pierce had installed in the girls' shower room. The voyeuristic next-door neighbour was filming their sex. Let him enjoy himself, Camilla thought. 

After a few more minutes of anal probing, Leroy was close to orgasm. He pulled his penis out of her anus and asked her to turn around. She quickly did, and he gently brought her head down to his phallus. He pushed the tip against her mouth, and 'Dolly' compliantly opened her mouth to take in his erection. She tickled his scrotum and looked up to his eyes as she sucked on his phallus, intermittently deep-throating it. She made sure their positions on the bed were such that the neighbour could clearly see what they were doing. As she looked up into his eyes, her eyes asked him if her mouth was pleasing him, and how she could please his phallus more. Her lips and tongue expertly slid up and down his member, her tongue tickling and her lips caressing. Her fingers tapped his testicles, and her fingernails gently scratched his scrotum. 

"I'm gonna come," he groaned. 

Pretending not to hear him or know what was happening, she asked, "Hmm?" after suddenly letting his phallus out of her mouth, but keeping it aimed at her face as she stroked it. He immediately inundated her face with his come. 

"Aaah!" she screamed and giggled each time a splash of come splattered on her face, as if she were a little girl laughing as a friend squirted her face with a squirt-gun. "My face is all gooey!" 'Dolly' giggled some more.

"Beautiful," Leroy said as he looked at her dripping wet face. 

Everything that goes around, comes around. 



Camilla Ch. 019



On Friday night, Camilla and Candice went out to a club called 'NRG' to dance. Both girls were wearing cleavage-revealing dresses that went down just a few inches below their crotches; they were hoping to find a man both of them thought would be appealing enough to share as a lover in a threesome. Their compromise would have been a man in his late thirties: they never found such a man that night, though plenty of undesirable men had tried to pick them up, and failed miserably. The girls had never been forced to say, "Fuck off", so many times in one night.

"Well, another day of tests is done," Candice shouted over the thundering techno. "And Monday is the last test day. Then it's graduation in a week and a half, then summer vacation. Woo-hoo!" 

"Well, I'll still have to do one summer school class so I have enough credits to start university this fall," Camilla said. "Trigonometry--ugh! But there is some good news: all my Monday tests will be easy--art, history, and phys ed. I barely need to study any of them, since my photographic memory will get me through them. In other news, remember that video I filmed of Callahan going down on me?"

"Dirty Harriet and her electric tongue?" Candice asked.

"Yeah," Camilla answered. "I e-mailed the bitch, and added the video as an attachment so she'd know I have evidence of what she made me do in Pierce's office. I told her to leave me and my men alone if she doesn't want her job to be in danger. I don't think we need to worry about her jeopardizing our graduation anymore. Still, if she wants to give me head again, I won't mind, since she's great at pussy-lapping." 

Candice pretended not to hear that last sentence. She said, "Yeah. Pierce sure enjoyed doing his sexual penance yesterday, didn't he? The spanking you gave him turned his butt-cheeks into a pair of tomatoes! But what about Leroy? What a pervert, eh?"

"Yeah! Can you believe he actually has a shit fetish? Callahan's a lesbian, Pierce likes sexual spankings, and Leroy's into coprophilia. I gotta say, Candice, yesterday was the weirdest fuckin' day of my whole life. Crapping in front of him really tested my insecurities about my body."

"I didn't think you had insecurities about your body, Camilla."

"Well, last night I learned that I do." Just then, Camilla noticed one of their fellow graduates-to-be walking around the club between her and the washroom. Like Akemi, the grade-twelve student was one of the girls who would frequently take furtive glances at nude Camilla in the shower area during gym class. She was a pretty girl, and Camilla in her awakening bisexuality was interested; so she made sure she yelled loudly enough so the girl would hear: "Speaking of toilets, I gotta pee!"

"I'll tell the six o'clock news if you like," Candice joked as Camilla walked in the direction of the ladies' room. The other girl followed Camilla in. 

Out of the corner of Camilla's eye, she saw the girl follow her into the washroom. Camilla went into the nearest stall and closed the door without locking it; she hoped the girl would know the door wasn't locked. She pulled up her dress, pulled down her white panties and sat on the toilet. "C'mon, pee. Hurry up," she whispered, hoping the girl would know she was only urinating, not defecating. Camilla figured the girl wouldn't have Leroy's coprophilia, and that Camilla's peeing probably wouldn't turn her off. 

The girl waited to hear the sound of Camilla's urine pour into the water of the toilet. Having drunk a lot of beer, the normally-shy girl was bold, and wanted to make known how she felt about her beautiful classmate. Camilla was simply waiting for her to open the door.

As soon as Camilla's urine was heard splashing in the toilet water, the girl pulled the door open. Camilla's legs were wide open so the line of yellow was clearly seen coming from her urethra; also clearly visible was Camilla's labia minora. Camilla casually looked up at the girl and grinned at her as if they'd bumped into each other in a supermarket. 

"Tina! Hi!" Camilla said in feigned surprise. "I didn't know you were here." Looking down at herself in the middle of her urination, Camilla then looked back up at Tina without a molecule of embarrassment on her face, and with a friendly smile said, "I'm sorry--I'm just about done." Tina looked down at half-naked Camilla and admired her labia minora, pink curtains Camilla had opened up with her hand to display her urinary performance. Camilla finished with a few last squirts, squealing 'Ooh!" with each little spray, then giggling. She took some toilet paper, wiped her vulva dry, got up and flushed the toilet. Leaving her dress rolled up for Tina's viewing pleasure, Camilla then took a perfumed wet napkin from her purse and wiped her vulva, which was moist not only from urine. "I hate it when my pussy smells," she said with a giggle, always pretending nothing sexual was happening. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I know you wanna pee."

"I can wait," Tina said; then she closed the stall door, and in her passion forgetting to lock it, she took Camilla's head and brought it up to her face. Camilla allowed Tina to sink her tongue into Camilla's mouth. They continued French kissing as Tina put her other hand on Camilla's bare bottom, and Camilla dropped the used wet napkin in the toilet bowl. Camilla put her arms around Tina while Tina started fingering Camilla's hardening clitoris. Both girls started audibly moaning. Tina pulled her tongue out of Camilla's mouth and started kissing her cheeks. "Oh, Camilla...," Tina sighed between kisses, "I've always wanted you..."

Suddenly the stall door was opened. The surprised girls saw Candice's jealous face. "I should've known I'd not be your only girl, Camilla," Candice growled, then stormed out of the washroom, with Camilla frantically pulling her panties up and her dress down as she chased after her hurt roommate. Tina just stayed there, in a confused daze for half a minute, before finally pulling up her dress, removing her panties, sitting on the toilet, and urinating.

Camilla couldn't see Candice anywhere in the packed dance club, and she assumed Candice had gone outside; so Camilla went out to look for her. Not seeing Candice anywhere on the streets either, Camilla worriedly went to the parking lot where she hoped Candice's car still was. She saw Candice driving away, too far away to hear Camilla shouting at her to stop the car. Camilla now would have to walk home or get a taxi, for it was already past 1:30 in the morning, and there were no buses.

Camilla, sulking, walked several blocks in the direction of her apartment, which was on the other side of town. She impatiently waited for a taxi to appear, but none ever came. She didn't know any phone numbers for taxi services. Part of her didn't even want to take a taxi home, though: she still wanted a male lover, or two, or maybe even three...

Her wish, for good or ill, was about to come true. She was approaching a pub, across the street from which was an old, condemned building, when who fortuitously came walking out of the pub? Mr. Williams, her chemistry teacher; Mr. Johnson, her biology teacher; Mr. Burgess, her physics teacher; Mr. Langella, her art teacher, and Mr. Knowles, another art teacher who knew of her notoriety at their school. Though the lecherous men had had enough whiskey to provoke the desire, none had had so much as to take away the performance! They took one look at the provocatively-dressed girl, and, their inhibitions submerged under a euphoric ocean of liquor, they threw all self-control away.

"It's Camilla," a wide-eyed Williams growled with lust.

"All tarted up for our viewing pleasure," Johnson said with a lascivious grin.

"Sing us that Trampauline song, Camilla," Langella said as he ogled her breasts and thighs, wondering what treats lay hidden inside. "You know you want to."

"OK," Camilla said with an even mixture of fear and desire. "But where do you wanna do it? Whose home...?"

"Right over there!" Williams interrupted as he ran up to her, pointing to the condemned building. He picked her up, her screaming with fear and sexual excitement, and using a fireman's carry, he took her across the road and into the old building. The other four tipsy teachers eagerly followed right behind them, that modern-day Zeus with his Io. 

Conveniently for all of them, there was an old mattress lying on the floor inside the building. It was right by one of the windows, illuminated from outside by a nearby street light. They took her there and started taking off her clothes. She giggled with titillation and screamed in a combination of fear and arousal. Her vagina was a glass filled to the brim with lubrication. None of the five men knew what she looked like naked, and they were anxious to discover what sexual treasures she had under that dress. 

"Guys, maybe we shouldn't do this here, OK?" Camilla said with a nervous giggle, futilely (and half-reluctantly) trying to stop them from undressing her. Langella removed her high heels, and Williams unzipped her dress at the back while Burgess held her arms and Johnson and Knowles held her legs. "Let's go to one of you guys' homes instead," she suggested, half-pleadingly. Her heart was pounding with terror, but her soaking-wet vagina was quivering with lustful expectation. 

"No way," Williams growled. "It's happening here or nowhere." He laughed as they got her dress off, revealing her lovely white lace brassiere and panties. "Check out those lovely undies!"

"Yeah!" Johnson said as he reached for her panties to pull them down. "Sensational!"

Burgess frenziedly got his hands on her bra clip, but his spastic, shaking hands made it difficult to undo. "C'mon!" he said in frustration. "I gotta see what those tits look like!" He finally unclipped her bra, and when Williams pulled it off her shoulders, her breasts shook with their new, revelatory freedom. "Ta da! There they are! Look at those two beauties!" Burgess shouted in victory.

Johnson pulled down her panties to reveal her pubic hair, still short from the shaving almost a week ago. "Look at that terrific tuft!" he said.

Knowles pulled her feet through the leg holes of her panties. He held them to his face and sniffed the wet spot. "Sweeter than all the perfumes of Arabia," he said. 

Putting the now-completely naked girl on the mattress, they turned her over to see her buttocks. "Gluteus marvellous!" the biology teacher noted. "Boys, choose that part of her anatomy you want to penetrate." He opened her buttocks to see what her anus looked like: a swirling mixture of brown and pink, the orifice mirrored the puckered, full lips of an African princess. "Beautiful!" Johnson said, then kissed it passionately for several seconds. "I want her pretty anus."

They laid her on her back on the mattress, and pulled her legs up and wide open in the shape of a fat V so both anus and vagina were exposed to the salivating quintet of lechers. Unzipping his pants, Langella licked his lips at the sight of those opening liquorice curtains between her legs. "Her vagina's mine...all mine!" he panted as he pulled out his hardening penis. 

"I've got her mouth," said Williams, whose fully-erect phallus was already sticking out of his opened zipper. "Her red lipstick is a sign welcoming my cock."

"I'm fuckin' them titties," said Burgess as he placed his phallus between them. "The biggest and softest pillows ever!"

"What about me?" asked Knowles in annoyance that all the best spots had already been claimed. 

"Pick an armpit and fuck that," said Williams as he brought his phallus down to Camilla's receptive mouth. Knowles shrugged and chose her left armpit. 

"Please be gentle," Camilla pleaded, extremely frightened yet also extremely sexually excited. "Don't hurt me. There's anal lube in my purse, Mr. John..." Williams's entering erection stopped her mouth.

"Oh, good," said Johnston, who frantically reached for her purse. He got the lube out and thoroughly lubricated her rectum and his erection while the other men entered her. As soon as she felt the tip of Langella's rock-hard penis touch her vaginal opening, she exploded in her first of what seemed an uninterrupted, seamless series of powerful orgasms. All of her screams were in the whistle register. A lake of vaginal fluid was foaming up the mattress and Langella's crotch as he slowly slid his phallus all the way inside her. Williams, Burgess, and Langella now all thrusted together in a perfectly coordinated rhythm, going back and forth all in synchronized movements. Johnson, now ready, entered her rectum, timing his penetration with the other men's forward thrusts. Together, they looked like an engine in use. 

When Langella found his penis drowning in Camilla's copious come, he suggested, "Let's finish her off with bukkake; she's already had more than her share of the fun, if you'll notice the ooze of cooze down here." 

"Good idea," said Knowles. The men all pulled out of her, got up, crowded around her in a circle, and started masturbating. This had been the most thrilling fuck she'd had yet, so she was perfectly content to receive their collective waterfall. Soon, her face was drenched with their almost simultaneous ejaculations. When they finished, her face and hair were veiled in a white sheet of come. She was shaking with fright and ecstasy at the same time. 

Suddenly, they all could hear applause from the other side of the room. Four teenage boys--a gang of punks--had been watching. Now that the men had gotten off of Camilla, the boys could see her delicious nakedness; indeed, they were drooling at the sight of her large breasts and pubic hair. The boys' leader said, "Now it's our turn to have the bitch."



Camilla Ch. 020



"Hey, wait a minute," Williams said as the five men put their penises back in their pants and zipped themselves up. "We had her consent; you punks don't."

"We don't fuckin' care!" said the boys' leader. "Give us the bitch, or you're all dead." The four boys walked towards the teachers with clenched fists.

Camilla wiped the come from her eyes. The naked girl was now only scared; her sexual excitement was gone at the sight of four teenage punks coming nearer and nearer. Her body was not for boys to enjoy, nor was it about to be enjoyed by punks, if she could prevent such a thing from happening. Without even thinking about her clothes or her purse, she just ran out the doorway that she and the teachers had come in.

The boys started running to that doorway to chase her, but the teachers stood in the boys' way, ready to fight. Williams punched the boys' leader in the face, knocking him to the ground. The other men tried their best to fight the boys, but men in their late thirties and early forties are no match for the youthful agility of boys aged 18-19. The fight soon ended with the boys running out of the building to look for naked Camilla, while all five men lay on the floor with bruised faces. At least Camilla was given some time to get as far away as possible; also, her clothes and purse weren't stolen by the boys, so the teachers would be able to give them back to her when they had the chance. 

Camilla ran and ran, her breasts bouncing and her heart pounding with fear. Her bare feet ached whenever she accidentally stepped on rocks on the ground. Since it was about 2 AM, there were virtually no people on the streets, and she could hide her nudity in alleys if anyone was seen either driving or walking.

The boys, however, were now on the prowl, and going in the right direction. They saw her sneak out of one alley to get around a building, her soft, round buttocks in plain view. "Look at that ass!" one of the boys shouted. She looked back in terror at the four boys and ran into the next alley. The boys ran in after her.

Fortunately for her, this alley continued to the next street, so she had an escape route. Unfortunately, the boys were getting closer. She was hiding behind a garbage dumpster and some boxes, quietly sobbing in terror. "Naked big-titty bitch!" called out the boys' leader in a sing-song voice. "Come out and play!" 

"We know you're here," said another boy. "No escape."

"C'mon, baby," said the third boy. "Lemme play with those titties." 

"Gang bang number two comin' up," said the fourth.

Looking from behind the boxes, she saw them looking through the garbage. They were almost upon her. The darkness kept them from finding her; all she had to do was keep quiet.

Suddenly, a huge rat scurried in front of her, running over her feet. She audibly gasped, but she was lucky in that, at just that moment, one of the boys shouted, "Come on out, baby! We'll show you a good time!"

Then, a neighbour from the third floor shouted from his window: "Hey, you goddam punks! Get outta here!"

The boys all looked up at him, the leader shouting, "Fuck you, man! Mind your own business!"

"I'll call the cops, assholes!" the man shouted as he let them see his cell-phone. The boys and man continued cursing at each other; now was Camilla's chance. She quietly snuck out the alley to the next street. Nobody was there, so she just ran and ran. The boys weren't coming after her, and she soon realized she'd lost them, at least for the moment.

Still, she was naked and far from home during the wee hours of a Saturday morning in early June in Vancouver. Her best friend and lesbian lover was mad at her for being with another girl, so even if she could get home soon, she doubted Candice would let her in, much less forgive her. Her nymphomaniac instincts told her to use her nakedness to her advantage (if an advantage could be found in such adverse circumstances), and find a man--or men--who'd be willing to take her home and give her protection in exchange for sex. Such willing men would, of course, be easy to find; men she would like to have sex with, though, would be extremely hard to find, especially in such a short time. Obviously, this was also a terrible gamble: would she choose bad men? Abusive men in charismatic guise? Psychotic men? She seemed to be about to play a kind of Russian roulette with her body, and the gun was all loaded except for one empty cartridge chamber. Extremely bad odds.

In spite of the obvious danger, though, she was willing to take the risk instead of continuing to wander about the city at night, naked and homeless. Also, those boys were still not too far away: they might find her yet. Besides, she wanted a lover.

This last point was particularly remarkable, considering Camilla's predicament. Though Camila was as afraid as any woman would naturally be of being raped, by those boys or by anyone, the whole time that she had been running naked down the streets of downtown Vancouver, her vulva was dripping wet, her labia were swollen, her clitoris was erect, and her vagina was thoroughly lubricated! She was panting not only from exhaustion, but from sexual excitement! Intense fear had always aroused her sexually, and this was the most frightened she'd ever been in her whole life, her arousal being in proportion to her fear. Camilla realized that, in a way, her body was trying to protect her from a rape by mitigating her trauma through an accompanying sexual arousal. This didn't mean, of course, that she wanted the boys to assault her. This didn't mean that she was willing to let any phallus enter her. This didn't mean that she wanted to be raped; of course she didn't. It was just that her instinctual lubrication was a biological attempt to obviate, or at least minimize, any physical pain from an unwanted penetration. In some cases at least, the lubrication theoretically could make that penetration pleasurable for her, depending on the desirability of the man, of course. 

As she went along a street, slipping in and out of alleys, she was always careful to hide when one or two people happened to be walking down the street, or when a car drove by. At one point, she peeked out of an alley, and thinking the street was clear of people, she suddenly ran out onto the street. A limping man in his late fifties saw her flawless frontal nudity. "Hi," she said with a sheepish smile as she ran past him. "Hope you enjoyed the show." He looked back at her as she ran away, admiring her pretty buttocks. 

"Pity my leg's bad," he said to himself as he saw her disappear into another alley. He continued walking home.

The alley she went into was nearby a pub that was still open. She noticed a water spigot at the back of the building where the pub was. Now she could finally wash the remaining come off her face and hair, the come from the bukkake she'd received from her teachers almost an hour ago. She put her head under the spigot and turned it on: the water rained all over her face and hair. It was awfully cold, but worth it to be clean. When the come was all washed away, she turned off the tap and wrung her hair dry. The water had gotten all over not just her head and face, but on much of her body, too. She shivered in the cold.

Now, at last, she had a moment to urinate: she found a nearby storm drain and squatted over it. She moaned with pleasure as she relieved herself; it would take a long time, for she had a lot to empty.

As she continued urinating, she heard the voices of those boys again, one of them saying, "Where'd that naked girl go?" Terrified again, she anxiously pushed as hard as she could to get the rest of her pee out as quickly as possible. The boys' voices were getting louder; they were getting closer--but how close? There was nothing to hide behind in this alley. She heard people walking out of the pub: some men, some women. She finished peeing, ran some tap water on her hand and washed her vulva clean--oh, how cold it was! Then she walked along the wall towards the front of the pub to see who was there: all overweight, unattractive men and women in their fifties and sixties at first; then two attractive forty-something men walked out and stood talking at the corner of the building, near where she was hiding in the dark. Physically, these well-dressed men in suits seemed perfect lovers for her; hearing their conversation, they sounded intelligent and articulate, just as she liked her men. She hesitated, wondering if these men would be okay to be with. They seemed nice, but Camilla of course had no idea what these men, total strangers, were really like. The boys' voices, getting louder and closer, forced her to act: it was loaded Russian roulette time. Again, fear from the risk she was taking got her sexually excited enough to want to leap into the danger. 

"Psst! Hey, you two," she called to the men. "Can you please help me?" Her vulva was getting as wet as her head and face were.

"Who's there?" the first man said as both men walked in the alley. "What's wrong?"

"I need a place to sleep tonight," she explained. "Can I come home with you?" She started fingering herself.

"Well, I don't know," the second man said. "We share an apartment, but we don't normally allow strangers in..."

He was interrupted by the sight of her naked, wet body walking into the light.

"Holy shit!" the men said in unison. The bulges in their pants came quickly.

"You can have sex with me if you want," she said nervously, half-scared at their reaction, half-aroused. "Please take me home. Hurry!"

*************************************

Five minutes later, the men drove their car into the basement parking lot of their apartment, Camilla in the back seat. They parked, got out of the car with her, went into the elevator, and up into their room on the third floor. The first man turned on the light and closed the door after all three of them were inside. They hurried into the bedroom.

She got the bed on all fours with her legs spread open to display her vulva and anus. "I'm willing to do anal, guys, but my anal lube is in my purse, which I lost," she said.

"Not to worry: we have Vaseline in the bathroom," the first man said, rushing off to get it. The second man had his partially-erect phallus pulled out of his pants. She took it in her mouth and sucked it eagerly. The first man returned with the Vaseline, pulled out his penis, and lubricated it and her rectum. He slid his now fully-erect phallus in. "This is the happiest day of my life," he groaned. How delightfully tight she was! 

This was an incredibly exciting night for her, too. The men seemed nice enough, and she was safe from those boys. Now the fear of being naked in public and of being ravished was just a memory, and as a memory, it was in her control. She'd often fantasized about being in a predicament like that, and now that all seemed safe for her, she could relish the sexiness of the experience while enjoying two men in bed. 

The men switched positions, since the first man wanted to give Camilla some ass-to-mouth. The second man, however, didn't go in her anus, but in her vagina. Camilla was particularly gratified about that, and she squealed with pleasure at his large phallus sliding into her dripping-wet vagina. The second man was an especially capable lover, knowing just how to move in and out of her to thrill her. After several minutes of the phallic massage he so expertly gave her vagina, she orgasmed. Then the first man ejaculated in her mouth. The second man withdrew his phallus, masturbated briefly, and came on her buttocks. An excellent ending to a wild night for Camilla.

**************************************

The next morning, they woke up around 7:30. 

"OK, thanks guys," she said. "Can you take me home now?"

"Nope," said the second man. "We're not taking you anywhere."

"What?" she asked in shock.

"No clothes for you, either," the first man said. "You can go, but if you do, you're going as naked as you came. While you were sleeping, we hid all our clothes, so you can't sneak any of them out of our home. If you want to stay here under our protection, you're gonna have to be our sex slave." Then the men kissed. "Now, go and make our breakfast." 



Camilla Ch. 021



"Me? Your slave? Forget it!" Camilla shouted indignantly.

"OK," the first man said. "Have it your way. Dirk, grab her legs." He grabbed her arms while Dirk approached her.

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" she shouted as Dirk picked her up by the legs. "Let go of me!"

"Oh, we will in a minute," Dirk said as they went into the outside balcony. "Ready to take a swim?" He referred to the swimming pool on the ground, three floors down.

"Wait!" she screamed. "Don't!" They held her over the balcony rails, ready to throw her.

"Are you a slave or not?" the first man asked. "On three, Dirk: one..."

"Please! Don't!" she screamed.

"I think she said 'no', Guy," Dirk said. "Two..."

"OK!" she yelled. "I'll do it. Please don't throw me." They put her down, and she went into the kitchen to make them some breakfast. They went into their bedroom for some quick gay sex.

She grudgingly made scrambled eggs and toast for them and for herself. She put their breakfasts on the dining room table, and went into the bedroom to tell them they could eat. Though she was annoyed at being made their servant, she eagerly wanted to watch them make love, for she found gay sex exciting to watch (she had an extensive collection of gay porn DVDs in her apartment). When she opened the door, Guy was reaching orgasm during anal sex with Dirk; at least she could enjoy seeing that.

"Breakfast is ready," she told them.

"Hey, get out of here!" Dirk shouted. "We don't want you watching us! Back in the kitchen!" She went back into the kitchen, wondering what she could do to get out of this predicament. In a compartment under the sink, she found an insecticide spray can, corrosive to the skin. She remembered the Vaseline container, the bisexual men's enjoyment of gay sex, and started plotting her revenge.

The two men got some clothes out of their hiding place, in a secret wall behind their closet, where they'd put all their clothes, even towels, while Camilla had been sleeping. This way, if she left, she'd have to leave naked. They got dressed and went to the dining room. As they sat to eat, she went into the kitchen to get her plate of food.

"Where are you going?" Dirk asked angrily. "Clean the bedroom."

"But I'm hungry," she said, on the verge of tears, as she took her plate over to the dining room table.

"If you wanna eat," Guy said while taking away her plate, "eat on the floor like every other dog." He dropped the food on the wooden floor. She started crying.

Dirk got a dog leash and collar from the closet. "Let's do this right," he said as he put the collar around her neck. "Now get down and eat." She got down on all fours and started eating. The men admired her behind as the collared, naked girl gulped scrambled eggs between sobs. "Bark like a dog," Dirk ordered.

"Hmm?" she said with a mouthful of egg.

Dirk pulled her head up with the leash. "No barking, no eating," he insisted. She gave a few weak canine yelps between her sobs, and he let her back down to eat.

After breakfast, the three of them went in the bathroom to take a shower together. On the sink she saw two containers of Vaseline, one used and one unused. She continued planning as the men got undressed. They all got in the shower stall, and Guy turned on the water. She was ordered to clean their every crevice while they cleaned her body more in the form of gropes than anything else. As she cleaned their legs, they made her perform fellatio on them; with the shower water falling on her face, it was hard to breathe, but she managed to do it, deliberately bringing both men to orgasm as quickly as she could to get it over with. After their shower, she dried them off and herself. They got dressed and took the towels back to the hiding place while she cleaned the washroom. She would have to continue cleaning the rest of the apartment, or else be kicked out of the apartment without any clothes. The men didn't care which choice she made, but those were her only two choices.

Guy left the apartment to go grocery shopping, and Dirk decided to take a nap on the sofa. Camilla continued her planning. These men were brutal, she thought, but also very stupid. She could have easily called the police, or gone for help from the neighbours, but she didn't want to. She wanted revenge. Normally Camilla didn't want to hurt anybody; she only wanted to give people pleasure. Now, though, she had been pushed too far in being made a slave. She had been terrorized by men for much of that Saturday morning, and she was sick of it. She was like a modern-day Sadean Justine, though her misfortunes came not from virtue. Her plan was to spray the insecticide on the men's Vaseline, so as to spice up their sex life in a way never before conceived; but first she would have to find a neighbour willing to take her in and give her protection, as well as a ride home. Again, she would have to play 'loaded Russian roulette' with her body, hoping this time to meet a genuinely good person.

She stood behind the front door, which she kept ajar so she could look through the crack and see if any of the neighbours coming and going in the hall appealed to her. She watched and waited. A few men and women went in and out of their apartments, but none of them were to her liking. As she waited for, preferably, a handsome forty-something man, she thought of what Ms. Callahan had told her: being a 'slut' would one day put her in a degrading situation like the one she was in now. Camilla hated to admit it, but her nemesis teacher seemed to have a valid point. Not to blame Camilla as the victim here, but the girl would have to be more careful in her sexual dealings with men in the future. She could also understand why it was wrong for women to trade their freedom just for protection, Guy's and Dirk's 'protection' being particularly dubious. Camilla didn't mind sexually submitting to those male teachers she found appealing, because she admired them for their intelligence and, as she saw it, their sophistication; but Guy and Dirk, as were those teen punks she'd narrowly escaped from, were contemptible in their blatant lack of respect for her rights as a human being. Those men were going to pay for what they'd been doing to her. When Camilla finally got home, she'd apologize to Candice for being unfaithful, and she'd control her wild ways to avoid another predicament like this.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of watching the hallway, a good-looking man came with a bag of groceries and a key to unlock his apartment door. With an amazing stroke of good luck, it was Mr. Fulson, her math teacher! Though he'd boldly groped where many a man had groped before, he'd always been nice to her, and she genuinely wanted to sleep with him. As he unlocked his door, she opened hers and 'Dolly' said, "Hi sir!"

He turned around, and when he saw her frontally nude for the first time, his jaw dropped, as his grocery bag almost did. "Camilla, why are you naked?" he asked with eyes agape.

Looking down at herself as if she hadn't been aware of her nudity, 'Dolly' said, "Oh...I don't have any clothes, sir. It's a long story." She walked up to him without any embarrassment on her face, leaving his eyes free to roam up and down her body, surveying her large breasts and pubic hair, which she made no attempt to cover.

"That's OK," he panted as he opened his door and put the bag on a nearby table inside his apartment, all the while keeping his eyes on her beautiful, peach-coloured skin. "You should never wear clothes."

"Really?" she asked with wide-open eyes, pretending, in her ditzy 'Dolly' persona, to have no idea of the effect her nakedness was having on his libido.

"Really," he sighed, smiling at her glorious nudity. "Your body is too beautiful to be covered." His fingers tickled her genitals.

"Thank you," she said with a giggle and a grin. "Can I stay with you? I don't like the men in this apartment. They're mean to me." She made a sexy pout.

"Of course you can stay with me," he said as he caressed her breasts, something she completely allowed him to do. "Could you turn around for me, sweetie? I'd like to see you bum."

"OK," she said in a sing-song voice as she turned around and pushed her buttocks out so he could get a good look. "Is that OK?"

"That's flawless," he said as he gently patted her behind. "Let's come inside, OK?"

"OK, but first I have to do something. I'll be right in." She went back in the men's apartment.

"I'll leave my door ajar for you," Fulson said as he went in his apartment.

Making sure Dirk was still sleeping on the sofa, she snuck into the kitchen, got the corrosive bug spray, went in the bathroom, and sprayed a generous amount of the insecticide on the used Vaseline. Stealing the other Vaseline container, she put the bug spray back in the kitchen compartment under the sink, left the men's apartment and went into Fulson's. "Have a good butt-fuck tonight, you bastards," she whispered to herself as she walked through the doorway.

"I'm on the sofa," Hudson said. "Come here."

Camilla put the Vaseline on the table next to Fulson's bag of groceries and went over to him. "What do you want to do, sir?" she asked.

"Could you sit on the coffee table and spread your legs for me, please?" he gently asked. "I'd like to see what's between them." He had a huge bulge in his pants.

"Sure," she said as she sat down in front of him. She spread her legs as wide open as she could get them, giving him a perfect front-row seat view of her pretty vulva, purple strips of chewing gum with the tips stuck together, and the middles wide apart.

"Thank you, sweetie," he panted as he studied her hole.

"I like how politely you ask me to do things," 'Dolly' said, as though posing like a pornographic model were as innocent as giving him a glass of water. "Please and thank you--not like those two men I left. They always boss me around."

"I'd never treat you like that, sweetie," he said as he touched her vulva. "This is beautiful. Could you get up, turn around, and bend over, please? I'd like to see what your anus looks like."

"OK," she sang as she got off the coffee table. She turned around, spread her legs wide apart, and bent over, exposing her anus and vulva.

"What perfection. Thank you for letting me see such beauty, Camilla," he said as he stroked her beige anal lips. "You know what I'd like you to do? Perform fellatio on me. Would that be OK?"

Looking back at him upside-down between her legs, 'Dolly' pretended not to understand. "Perform him for you? Fellatio? I don't know that Shakespeare character," she said with pursed lips and wide-open, 'confused' eyes.

He laughed. He knew the nymphomaniac English and drama major was much too smart and knowledgeable of the Bard not to know what he really meant, but he was entertained all the same by her ditzy 'Dolly' character. Unzipping his pants and pulling out his almost fully-erect penis, he asked, "Can you open your mouth, please? I'd like to put this inside."

"OK," she said, and took his over six-inch phallus in her mouth while he licked her vulva and anus. He was amazed and delighted with how perfectly clean both holes were, inside and out. (She'd properly cleaned those areas in the shower with Guy and Dirk when they wouldn't.) He stuck his tongue deep inside her anus, but there was no faecal taste at all. Impressive. Her vagina had a similarly immaculate flavour. Delicious. They continued with this sitting/standing 69 foreplay for several minutes.

"Could you now turn around, please, and sit on my phallus?" he asked her. "I'd like to guide it in your vagina."

"OK," she sang, and happily did as he asked. As his erection slowly slid into her vagina, she sighed in an ascending soprano. He thrilled to the sight of her large breasts bouncing as she frenziedly went up and down on his phallus. Her squeals of pleasure eerily sounded something like the singing of Mozart's 'Queen of the Night' aria, except Camilla skipped over every other eighth note, it seemed. She was the queen of his night (or Saturday, anyway), dancing on his magic skin-flute. Hell's vengeance boiled in her heart as she wished she could witness Guy and Dirk attempt anal sex with their newly-modified Vaseline.

His long phallus so deeply and thoroughly probed her vagina, that her soprano voice soon went up to the whistle register, and she soaked his lap with her orgasm. "Sorry," she said with the guilty face of a six-year-old girl.

"That's OK, sweetie," he said. "But I haven't come yet, and I really like your anus. Could you be a good girl and let me put my penis in there? I'd really like to do that."

"OK," she sang, and went to get the Vaseline. As she came back with it, she said, "This should make it go smoother." She opened the container and gave it to him.

"It sure will be smoother," he said as she got down on all fours on the floor, her legs spread wide open and her behind pushed out so he could see her anus up close. He lubricated her rectum and his phallus, and slid it in. How gloriously tight her rectum was! How cheerfully compliant Camilla was being in her 'Dolly' persona, indulging his every desire! Williams was right: she knew how to be the exact fantasy of any man; her majoring in drama as well as English was something she was obviously putting to good use. As his phallus slid in...and out...and in...and out...of her rectum, he delighted to the slippery feeling, as did she, with its massaging of her rectal walls, stimulating her vaginal walls, too. He came, and they lay on the floor for a few minutes. "Ooh, that burning passion!" he groaned.

*************************************

She stayed with him all Saturday afternoon and evening, having sex with him between meals and naps. By the end of the day, he knew her whole body, every inch of it, by sight, smell, touch, and taste, better than she knew it.

She finally got up the nerve to phone Candice, who, rather than still being angry with her, was flooded with relief to know she was OK. Candice told Camilla that Williams had returned her clothes and purse, and he apologized for the bad decision of the five teachers having sex with her in the abandoned building. Candice would want Camilla to explain more about that when she got home. The girls exchanged apologies, Camilla for being with Tina, and Candice for not driving Camilla home. They hung up, and Camilla asked Fulson to take her home.

"Sure, sweetie," he said. "I'll find some clothes for you."

"I thought you said I should never wear clothes," 'Dolly' said.

"Yeah, but how will I get you home if you stay naked?"

"We can wait until after 1 AM; just about everybody should be in bed by then."

"OK," he said, and they waited until that time. As he was sneaking the naked girl through the hallway towards the elevator, they heard the screams of Guy and Dirk from inside their apartment.

"My cock! It burns!" Guy screamed.

"My ass!" It's on fucking fire!" Dirk screamed.

"What's that all about?" Fulson asked.

"Ooh, that burning passion," Camilla said with a smirk.



Camilla Ch. 022



Candice was ecstatic with relief to see Camilla walk back into their apartment around 2 AM on Sunday morning; she also gave Mr. Fulson profuse thanks for getting Camila home safely, even asking how she could repay him. He only wanted the assurance that they wouldn't tell anyone of his sexual adventures with Camilla on Saturday; he got that assurance, and left.

Candice hugged Camilla's naked body tightly, kissing her left shoulder. "Oh, thank God you're OK," she said, choking back sobs. "I was so worried all of Saturday. I'm sorry I left you at NRG." 

"I'm sorry about Tina," Camilla said, coughing a bit as she put her arms around Candice. "I didn't mean to cheat. I...I don't know...I just get impulsive whenever opportunities for sex come. Sorry."

"I'm not mad about that. I don't own you, and I know you like to experiment with other lovers. You're free to fuck whoever you like, but be careful, OK? Anyway, I shouldn't judge you; we went to NRG to find a man to share in bed, and I have a boyfriend...well, sort of. It hasn't gotten serious yet; he probably looks at other girls--you know how men are." Candice brought her face up to Camilla's for a kiss.

"No, sweetie, don't kiss me," Camilla said with a cough. "I think I caught a cold."

"I'm not surprised, what with you running around naked at night. Which reminds me: remember I told you on the phone that Mr. Williams came here and gave me your clothes and purse, and he told me about your encounter with those teachers. What really happened between you and those men? Look me in the eyes, and tell me the truth: did they rape you?"

"No, of course not," Camilla said with conviction, looking in Candice's eyes. "I loved it; I was coming buckets." 

"I can't help thinking this is denial," Candice said, moving down to suck on Camilla's breasts. She also fondled Camilla's buttocks.

"Really, Candice," Camilla sighed. "Actually, I engineered...the whole gang-bang...I sang that...Trampauline song, 'Gang-banged', on purpose...in front of...each teacher...when I had...class with them...I really wanted...to get...gang-banged. Oh, Candice...I love the way...you touch me." Camilla, coughing, started unbuttoning Candice's shirt.

"So you meant for them to gang-bang you?" Candice asked as she took her shorts and panties off.

"Yes," Camilla said with a cough as she pulled off Candice's shirt. "I only wish we'd gone to one of their homes." Camilla put her left hand on Candice's right nipple, pinching it, and she tickled Candice's clitoris with her right index finger. Candice moaned at Camilla's touching. Camilla ran her hands through Candice's hair as Candice squatted and kissed Camilla's torso.

"Williams said...he was...really embarrassed...about doing you...in an abandoned...building," Candice said between sighs and kisses on Camilla's abdomen. "He said...some young punks...tried to...rape you,...but he and...the other teachers...fought them...The boys kicked...the teachers' asses...Williams had...a nasty...black eye...Did the boys...get you?" Candice started licking Camilla's clitoris.

"No, I got away," Camilla moaned. "So, Williams...came here with...my clothes...and purse?...Oh!"

"Yeah," Candice said while licking Camilla's clitoris and fingering Camilla's anus. "They're in...the bedroom...Let's go there!" They went to bed and continued their lovemaking. They put paper towel all over the middle of the bed, in anticipation of Camilla's gushing.

Camilla lay on her back with her legs spread wide open as Candice continued performing cunnilingus on her. At first, Candice alternated between slower and faster licking. She then stuck her tongue in Camilla's vagina as far as it would go to reach her G-spot; with effort, she touched it with the tip of her tongue a few times, and Camilla squealed in a soprano voice. Her lips gently tugged on Camilla's labia minora, and she alternated between licking, humming and buzzing on Camilla's clitoris. Candice didn't care if she caught Camilla's cold: she was just glad to have her lover back. 

Camilla was afraid to pass her germs on to Candice if she licked Candice's vulva, so she suggested they try tribadism instead. They got in the 'scissor' position, with Camilla's head at the head of the bed and Candice's head at the foot of the bed; Candice's left leg went over Camilla's right thigh, and they started rubbing vulvas. Camilla guided Candice's left foot on Camilla's right breast; Candice's toes gently pinched and tickled Camilla's nipple. 

"Ooh!" Camilla squealed. "Our pussies feel so good together!"

"Oh, yeah!" Candice sighed. "We gotta...do this...more often!" The girls felt their labia minora flap against each other, and Camilla's hard, larger clitoris rubbed against Candice's--equally hard, though not quite as big. Sometimes Camilla would push her clitoris against Candice's vaginal opening and rub it around the orifice; this got Candice especially excited. Candice moved her crotch so her pubic hair brushed against Camilla's vulva. 

"Ooh!" Camilla squealed with a giggle. "Your pubic hair tickles!" She giggled again, and coughed. Both girls were approaching orgasm. 

"Yours tickles, too," Candice moaned. "I love it." Several times, she pushed her vaginal opening against Camilla's in imitation of kisses. Then the girls rubbed their clitorises together again. 

"Oh!" both girls screamed together, and they orgasmed at the same time. Much of Camilla's come entered Candice's vagina, and the girls' vaginal fluid swirled together. 

They lay there for several minutes, almost motionless, and breathing heavily, then slower and slower, and lighter and lighter. Then Candice removed the soaking paper towels and threw them away. She didn't bother cleaning Camilla's come out of her vagina; she didn't care if she caught any germs from Camilla--she just liked having some of her lover inside her. She went back to bed with Camilla, and both girls quickly fell asleep.

**************************************************

The next morning, they woke up, sat in bed, and talked. Camilla sneezed and coughed several times, and reached for the Kleenex to blow her nose. 

"You're really sick, Camilla," Candice said. "I'm going to the drugstore to get you some medicine. We've got to get you better for tomorrow's exams."

"I'll be okay," Camilla said with a cough. "By the way, I wanna resume my old tae kwon do classes. I made good progress with it 'til a year ago, when I stopped. I wish I hadn't. If I can get good at it, I'll be able to defend myself instead of running from rapists." 

"You also need one man to be your lover, Camilla."

"I know. I don't know why I can't just do that. I keep searching for the right man to replace Mr. Grisham." Camilla started crying. "I miss him."

Hugging Camilla, Candice said, "Forget him. You'll find someone to replace him, sweetie." Candice kissed her on the forehead. "I gotta go get that medicine. You rest for a while, then study. I'll be back soon and make us some breakfast." Candice got dressed and left for the drugstore.

Camilla got her history book and flipped through the pages to find something she didn't know well. She found American history easy, because it was fascinating to her. Also, she found Mr. Hanson so attractive that she hung on his every word as he taught; and her photographic memory meant she could ace the test with minimal study. Finding nothing difficult to remember, she said, "Ah, I know this." She put the book down and got out her iPad. 

She got online and found Derek Jarman's film adaptation of Shakespeare's Tempest. She'd seen the movie before when researching an essay on the play for Mr. Grisham's class a month ago, and she was captivated with the actor (David Meyer) who played Ferdinand. She didn't want to watch the whole movie this time: only the part when Ferdinand emerges naked from the water onto a beach. She found the right scene and paused it. On Friday she had put a can of pencils on the shelf on the head of the bed to cover up the hole where the hidden camera was, that of the girls' next-door-voyeur-neighbour. She did this out of respect for Candice's privacy; but now that Candice wasn't home, Camilla removed the can so the voyeur could freely watch her masturbate as she watched Ferdinand's nude scene. She lay on the bed with her head at the foot of the bed and with her legs spread wide open, so the camera--if being used at the time--could get a clear image of her fingering her genitals as she watched the movie. 

"I wonder if he's watching," she said, then pressed play to watch the nude scene. She started rubbing her finger against her clitoris as she saw Ferdinand's muscular naked body stagger out of the water. Her eyes were fixed on his penis. "Oh, Ferdinand, your body is soooooo beautiful!" Her vagina was getting wet as she continued stroking her clitoris and tickling her G-spot. "Ooh, look at his long, wiggly penis!" She giggled and coughed. This was one of those rare moments when she lusted after a younger man (Meyer would have been about 32 when the film was made). He had smooth, white skin, with muscular definition in his arms, torso, and legs. As the nude man staggered towards a large mansion just off the beach, she thrilled to see his soft, round buttocks and the back of his scrotum shaking between his legs. As she continued masturbating, she noticed slight movements from her neighbour's camera. "He's watching! Good! Oh!" Every time she'd seen this neighbour, he had his door ajar so she couldn't see much of him, though he saw all of her naked body in the hall; what she did see of him, however, looked good, so she was happy to entertain him with her masturbating. He was another lover for her to try. She fingered herself more vigorously as she got wetter and wetter. Her other hand fondled her breasts. 

When the nude scene was over, she brought it back to the beginning, with Ferdinand coming out of the water and onto the beach again. She began to fantasize that she was the naive virgin Miranda from the play, with no knowledge of men apart from her father and his vile, deformed slave. Having been with only these two men, always clothed in front of her, all her life on their lonely island, she knew nothing of men's anatomy. Now she would see naked Ferdinand approach her from the beach, as in Jarman's movie... 

Salivating at the sight of his penis, and curious about what this new, beautiful anatomy was that she'd never seen before, 'Miranda' said, "This is the third man that e'er I saw; the first that e'er I sighed for."

Standing in front of kneeling, clothed 'Miranda', Ferdinand said, "O you, so perfect and so peerless, are created of every creature's best!"

"What is this for?" she asked, touching his penis. "I haven't one: why have you one when I haven't?"

"Women aren't supposed to have them attached to their bodies, but women may enjoy them inside their bodies," he explained as his penis started hardening in her hand. 

"'Tis growing," she said with delight and fascination. "How may I enjoy it?"

"Suck on it," he said.

She gluttonously put it in her mouth. It grew thick and to a length of seven inches. It was a supreme phallic beauty, sliding in and out of her mouth like a long, thick stick of rock candy. Adoring its size and hardness, she deep-throated it and kept it deep inside her for several seconds, for she wanted to know it in its entirety. Its awesome length went down so far into her throat that the tip seemed to be almost level with her heart. Her face was buried in his pubic hair. She grabbed his buttocks, squeezed them, and fingered his anus. He groaned with pleasure at 'Miranda's' oral talent, so prodigious for so innocent a virgin. She put the index finger of her right hand deep inside his rectum, which was perfectly clean from his bath in the tempest at sea, and her left hand played with his testicles, shaking them gently. She pulled her head back to take the length out of her throat, and her lips and tongue caressed the large, ovoid knob. 

'Miranda' knew nothing of men except for her father, Prospero, and the beastly Caliban, and she was only now beginning to know about the functions of a phallus. Still, she instinctively sensed, as if she had ESP, that he would ejaculate soon, and that the spent member would then be flaccid, no longer interesting to her. She was in control of his pleasure, though, and she would keep him like Priapus for as long as she liked. 

She intuited that his desire was peaking, and that she would have to ensure that his peaking would go no higher to result in ejaculation; still, she wanted to sustain his peaking desire at the same high level, no lower. Thus she licked, kissed, and sucked on his phallus in such a way as to keep him at such a high plateau. She was fascinated at the protruding tube (his corpus spongiosum) along the underside of his phallus, and she licked it and tickled it with her tongue. She also tapped his testicles gently with her hand, for they fascinated her, too. His pubic hair tickled her face. She licked the urethral opening on the tip, and let her lips roam all along his shaft. Finally, after about twenty minutes of her sustaining his peaking desire, she relented, and stimulated him to orgasm: his ejaculation was a fountain filling her mouth. She swallowed it all, careful not to miss a drop, for she loved the sweet nectar. Then, finally, she sighed, "How beauteous mankind is!"...

Camilla continued fantasizing in this way as she watched the nude scene over and over again while frantically masturbating. Her tickling fingers fluttered against her clitoris and went inside her vagina and anus, rubbing against her G-spot and her rectal walls. With her other hand, she put the nipple of one breast in her mouth for sucking, then the nipple of the other one. Watching the movements of the camera, she kept her vulva and anus pointed directly at it to ensure her neighbour was getting a good look. She had no idea what pleasure she was giving him, but she hoped and assumed that his pleasure was at a maximum. Finally, she came all over the sheets. The camera moved down to get a look at the foam.

"Shit!" she said. "I forgot to get the paper towels." Watching the movements of the camera, she said, "Well, at least he enjoyed the show." 



Camilla Ch. 023



Camilla replaced the bed-sheet that had been drenched in her come from her previous masturbating and put the can of pencils in front of the hidden camera hole. "Don't worry, my voyeur next-door neighbour, I'll let you see more later," she said. Then she went to bed and slept for an hour. 

Candice returned at noon with some medicine. She had Camilla take some cough mixture and spray some nasal mist up her nostrils; then Candice made lunch for both of them. 

"Sorry I'm late coming back," Candice explained as they ate. "I ran into my boyfriend and had a coffee with him in Starbucks. We made plans to get together for the afternoon. I'll be going as soon as we finish eating, but I promise to be back around 5 or 6 PM to check up on you. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me," Camilla said. "The medicine is already working." 

After Candice left, Camilla went back into the bedroom and got on the bed. She took the pencil can away from the hole in the wall and noticed the camera move slightly. "Does this guy ever turn it off?" she asked herself of her next-door-voyeur neighbour. "Oh, well: I guess I'll give him another show."

After putting some paper towels on the centre of the bed, she lay on it on her back with her head at the foot of the bed and her legs spread wide apart so her vulva and anus would be visible to the voyeur. She started masturbating. 

*******************************

Those holes were visible to him, indeed. Jim, 42, had the camera move down and zoom in on Camilla's spread, but included her head so that, on his computer screen, he could see her looking straight at the camera as she touched herself.

"I can't believe it," he said to himself. "She wants me to watch!" He unzipped his pants, pulled out his hardening penis and started stroking it. 

*******************************

Camilla started remembering her first strip show at Luvlee's. Those fond memories would be ample fuel for masturbatory fantasy. 

On that day, Camilla was eager to display herself, but unsure if the men would like her. None of the men watching her were attractive. She heard a few cheers as she got out of her white T-shirt and pink miniskirt at the end of her first song, 'Single Ladies', by Beyonce. Some more cheers were heard when she removed her pink bra and panties during her second song, Beyonce's 'Sweet Dreams'. She took off her running shoes and socks for her third song, 'Flashing Lights', by Kanye West. A man in his mid-forties came up to sit at the tip rail with a similarly-aged friend of his. He was not all attractive in any conventional sense: somewhat overweight and bald, with all grey for the remaining rim of hair around the sides and rear of his head. He had a bushy grey moustache, and wore a short-sleeved light-blue dress shirt and navy blue dress pants. He smiled at the sight of Camilla's sweet nakedness on the stage.  

Encouraged by his smiles, she spread her upraised legs wide open for him (Camilla's spread for Jim was an exact imitation of this spread: both holes in plain view). He rested his head on his left hand and stared with his eyes and mouth wide open in lustful amazement. His friend laughed at his total loss of control, for the bald man could hardly contain his admiration for the delicious beauty she was showing him, and his penis quickly became rock-hard. Though most girls would be annoyed at such a blatant expression of lechery, Camilla was touched by it: thanks to him, her confidence increased tenfold. She assumed he was salivating at the sight of her liquorice vulva, though actually he preferred her brown anus, which looked like pursed lips that wanted to be passionately French-kissed. She lewdly looked back into his eyes while pursing her bright red lips, an appropriate variation on what he saw below. Then she rolled over on all fours and crawled toward the back of the stage, where the mirror showed the man's reflected reaction, which was all lascivious awe at the sight of her still-clearly exposed vulva and anus. She was nervous to know a man wanted her so voraciously, but she was also excited by his ogling; for though he wasn't her first choice for a lover, he was assuredly an available lover. She breathed heavily as she alternately looked at his reflection in the mirror, and turned her head around shyly to look at him directly. 

*******************************

As Camilla remembered the events of that day in Luvlee's, she tickled her hard clitoris with her index finger and massaged her G-spot with her middle finger. She moaned audibly so the microphone that she correctly assumed was in the wall could pick up the sound of her voice. The whole time she had been on her back with her upraised legs spread wide open so Jim could see both anus and vulva. Then she rolled over on all fours as she had been for the bald man in Luvlee's, now showing herself off exactly the same way for Jim's camera. Her legs were wide open, and her behind pointed out toward the camera, exposing her vulva and anus. As she continued fingering and stroking her wet vulva, she looked back at the camera with salacious eyes that asked the viewer if she was pleasing him. 

*******************************

She was! Jim vigorously slid his hand up and down his shaft as he watched the image on his computer screen, zooming it in to see her holes in better detail. 

"Oh, that candy cunt!" he groaned as he played with himself. "Oh, that pretty asshole! Keep moaning, you little bad girl!" His eyes and mouth widened exactly as those of the bald man in Luvlee's had. 

*******************************

Masturbating Camilla continued remembering that first day in Luvlee's.

As soon as she finished her floor-show, she got off the stage with only her purse, and, still naked, went up to where the bald man was sitting with his friend at the tip rail. "Did you enjoy my show?" she asked him with a smile.

Looking up and down her nude body, he panted, "Did I ever!" He couldn't take his eyes off her large breasts and pubic hair. 

Shyly giggling and blushing, she asked, "Would you like me to give you a lap-dance?"

"Yes, I would like several," he said. "I don't think I'll be back for quite a while, Hal," he said to his friend. "You may want to go home without me if I'm not back after an hour." He and Camilla then went into a private room. "So, your name is Camilla, as the DJ called you?" he asked as she sat on his lap.  

"Yeah," she giggled shyly. "What's your name?"

"Wayne," he said, and they shook hands as if he and the naked 18-year-old were meeting in a church. "How long have you been working here? I come here often; I've never seen you here before."

"This is my first day," she said with a giggle. "I just turned eighteen, so I'm barely legal." 

"My goodness," Wayne said as he looked down at her body again. "You're just a little baby." He cradled and rocked her in his arms as if she were his baby daughter. She enjoyed his tenderness. "A little baby." 

"Yeah," she giggled shyly. The next song began. "Shall we start?"

"Sure," he said, and she started grinding on his crotch. He grunted in a call-and-response to her sighs of pleasure. She was impressed by the size of his erection: guessing it at seven inches (it was actually six-and-a-half), it was also thicker than any penis she'd ever known before. She imagined how good he'd feel inside her. Furthermore, though he wasn't good-looking, he was good-feeling: he had magical, electric fingers that gently touched her, with great sensitivity to her erogenous zones. He intuitively knew exactly where to caress her to drive her wild with desire. She was definitely willing to sleep with him. 

He cupped her breasts in his hands, and gently tickled and pinched her nipples. She squealed with pleasure. He put his hand on her vulva and rubbed his finger against her clitoris. She sighed her appreciation to him. She got up and bent over; he opened her buttocks to see her wrinkly brown anus. He stroked it and opened the hole. Now Camilla realized what he must have been looking at when she'd spread her legs for him on the stage. Very well, she thought, I'll indulge him because I want to please him. When he moved his hands from her behind and started fingering her vagina, she moved her bottom around in circles and, looking back at him, watched his eyes as they followed it. Since her legs were wide open enough for her anus to be still partly visible, she correctly assumed his eyes were following that brown spot between her buttocks, so she opened her right buttock so he could see her anus better. He was delighted at the sight of those swirling wrinkles as they widened and became more clearly visible; he appreciated her encouraging him to indulge in his fetish. On a pretty girl like her, a dirty hole like that was always beautiful. 

She then turned around and sat on him, this time facing him. He gently pushed his left long finger deep inside her rectum, then rubbed his right index finger around her vaginal opening. She responded with a gravelly moan. After a few seconds of moving his long finger in and out of her rectum, he pulled it out to smell it. It was very faecal-smelling, but he liked the smell, because it was her smell. He then slid his long finger back inside her rectum. She liked the sensation as much as he did, and squealed in response while looking approvingly in his eyes. The feeling of the bulge in his pants rubbing against her genitals was particularly arousing for her. As his right index finger started sliding inside her vagina, he would soon come to a surprise...

*********************************

Camilla was still on all fours with her behind pointed at the camera. As she continued vividly replaying images of that day in her mind, she slid her own fingers deeply in and out of her vagina and anus, all the while moaning and making sure what she was doing would be clearly seen by her neighbour with his camera. Both fingers touched the upper walls, massaging her G-spot and the rectal wall neighbouring her lower vaginal wall. She was dripping wet, and moaning and squealing like a wild animal.

*********************************

Jim quickly moved his hand up and down his hard phallus as he, amazed, watched her masturbating on his computer screen. Watching her was better than watching a video of Taylor Rain (one of Jim's favourite porn stars) fingering herself, because Camilla wasn't doing it for the money--she did it because she liked it, and she did it all for him. 

"Yeah!" he grunted. "Jam your fingers up your cunt and asshole! She wants me to watch. I can't believe it!" 

*********************************

To continue with the memory of Camilla's first-ever lap-dance...

When Wayne continued sliding his finger inside her vagina, he was surprised to hit a bump: it was a hymen! 

"Camilla," he said with his eyes and mouth agape. "You're still a virgin?" She blushed and turned her head away in embarrassment. "My sweet little innocent baby! How could such a beautiful, sexy girl like you not have sex yet?"

Though he was now more excited than ever, she now felt much less attractive. "My mommy controls my life too much," she said with beginning sobs. "I hate her. She never lets me do anything." She was crying, and he held her in his hungry arms. 

"Well, if your mommy is so controlling, how did you get work here, sweetie?" Wayne--much harder than ever before--asked with a gentle, avuncular voice, rocking her back and forth as a father would his daughter.

"She doesn't know I'm working here. I told her I'm staying at my friend Candice's house tonight. I wanna lose my virginity so badly. I wanna be a woman, not a little girl, as my mommy wants. She put me in an all-girls' Catholic school so I'd be 'safe' from boys. That's just as well, since I don't like boys my age; they're so immature and rude; that's why I like older men." She continued crying as he cradled her in his arms. He rubbed his bulging crotch against her clitoris; as she sobbed, she moaned with excitement. "I've been with a few boys, but I only jerked them off or tried to blow them. I got naked for them, and they said I should be a stripper. But they didn't like how I do fellatio; they were so mean. They said I 'suck at sucking'." She put her head on his shoulder and sobbed loudly between sighs of pleasure. He put his hand on her head and stroked her hair. 

"Oh, don't cry, sweetie," he said as he stroked her clitoris with his other hand. He also fingered her adorable hymen from time to time. "You just need a man to practice fellatio on, and to teach you how to do it." Obviously, he was hoping to be that man. 

Though she wanted to be with him that night, she'd already made other arrangements, so he would have to wait until next time. "Well," she said between sighs of pleasure, "I'm sleeping with my boss, Mr. Chen, tonight. I offered him my body to make sure I got a job here, because I really want to be a stripper. I wanna be desirable to men, not be just a chaste little mommy's girl. Oh!"

"You're desirable to me," Wayne groaned as he continued to finger her clitoris, her G-spot and her rectum. "I'll give you a little sexual experience here, for what it's worth." They both sighed as he fingered her. She put her hand on the bulge in his pants and squeezed it gently; then she kissed him hard on the mouth, ignoring his bad beer breath. His left finger slid in and out of her rectum while his right finger rubbed against her G-spot, sometimes also tickling her hymen. "That you're a virgin...makes you all the more...desirable."

Squealing with pleasure from his touching, she got up, then suddenly orgasmed. Her whistle register almost deafened him, but her copious spewing astonished him. 

*********************************

Camilla continued fingering herself, more frenetically now. She went back onto her back and raised her legs up so Jim's camera eye could see her wet, pink vulva lips and brown eye. Her fingers were now quickly pumping deeply in and out of them, and her squeals and screams were getting higher and higher in the soprano range. 

*********************************

"Yeah!" Jim growled as he continued choking his phallus. "Finger-fuck those holes! Go deep inside!" He was nearing ejaculation, but trying to delay it as best he could.

*********************************

Camilla's anus-finger went in as far as it would go, while her index finger rubbed vigorously against her clitoris. She stuffed her long finger deep inside her soaking vagina to reach for her A-spot; it was difficult, but eventually she got there with a partial fisting of herself. She reached deep inside, curved her long finger around the corner and found it. Her soprano screams went higher and higher until they reached the whistle register, and her orgasm spouted like Old Faithful, then splashed all over her vulva and hands. 

*********************************

"Incredible! Oh!" Jim ejaculated two seconds after she did, also spouting like a geyser all over the floor between his legs. "That girl and I have to be formally introduced." 



Camilla Ch. 024



Camilla removed the come-soaked paper towels from the bed and threw them away; then she slept for a few hours, waking up around 4 PM. She looked at the hidden camera in the hole in the wall above the head of the bed, and saw the camera move slightly. "He's ready for yet another show," she said, then she put more paper towels in the middle of the bed. After that, she took out a vibrator, a butt plug, and some anal lube from a nearby drawer. "It's time I made the show a little more interesting," she said as she spread her legs for the camera. Then she turned on the vibrator and touched its buzzing tip against her clitoris. "Ooh," she moaned.

************************

"How many times is this girl going to play with herself today?" Jim asked himself as he zoomed the camera in on her vulva. She was moving the tip of the vibrator around her vaginal opening. "Oh, that's great," he said as he pulled down his pants and underwear.

************************

As Camilla continued masturbating, she remembered the day after her first day at Luvlee's, two days after her 18th birthday.

After school at 4 PM, Camilla got on the bus that would take her to Luvlee's. Apart from her and the driver, there were only two people on the bus: an old lady sitting near the front, and Wayne, sitting at the back.

"Hi," she said with a smile as she walked up to him. When she got to the back, she stood before him and put her school bag at her feet. "Remember me? You saw me naked yesterday."

"Yes, I did," he said as he looked up and down at her. "You look sexy in your school uniform."

"Thanks," she said with a shy giggle.

"Did you sleep with your boss last night?"

"Yeah, but he didn't pop my cherry," she answered with a pout as she lifted up her skirt to show him her pink lace panties, with a camel-toe tightly hugging her crotch. "It's still in there."

"He must have a microscopic prick," he said as he stroked her between her legs.

"His prick is small--and thin--but that's not the point. He didn't even wanna put it in my pussy. He only wanted anal sex with me."

"Well, at least you lost your anal virginity. Did it hurt?"

"No, I liked it, actually. His penis felt just like your finger when you stuck it in my bum yesterday; about the same size, too. To make his dick slide in better, he spat on my asshole. Eww!" She unbuttoned her shirt halfway down to show off her pink brassiere.

"Oh, I hate it when people lube girls' butts with their spit like that."

"Why?" She sighed at his fingering.

"It's so disrespectful: your asshole is so pretty. It should be worshipped."

She giggled shyly at this strange compliment, then she nervously asked, "You wanna have anal sex with me, don't you?" She still held her skirt up for his hungry eyes.

"Oh, yeah!" Wayne growled in lust; he kept fingering her--she was getting wetter and wetter.

"But Wayne, your penis is so much bigger than my boss's: it would hurt if I let you put it in my poo-hole," she said with a coy smile.

"I'd be really gentle, sweetie," he insisted, hoping to persuade her to let him do it. "I'd use anal lube, too."

"But Wayne, I want it in my pussy. I don't wanna be a virgin anymore," she fought back a few sobs.

"I'll fuck your pussy, too, sweetie. I promise. Don't cry. By the way, does your mommy know about you working as a stripper?"

"Not yet. I don't wanna talk about my mommy, though. I wanna talk about my physics homework. I don't understand it; I can't do it." Sighing, she kept showing off her panties as he stroked her.

"Oh, physics is easy for me; I'm an engineer. I can help you with your homework."

"Oh, would you, Wayne? Look, if I sleep with you, will you help me?"

"Baby, to sleep with you, I'll do it for you; but I want to have anal sex with you, too, OK?"

"But it'll hurt," Camilla pouted coyly; her face, however, showed she was half-willing.

"Your first vaginal sex will also hurt--breaking your hymen; but you still want to lose your virginity, in spite of the pain. As I see it, doing your homework for you and sleeping with you are two favours I'm doing for you. What will I get in return?" He grinned as he continued bartering for her body.

"But you'll get to sleep with me," she haggled back.

"Which I'll enjoy, no doubt; but breaking your hymen will hurt my cock, too. With anal sex, that pain isn't there--only pleasure." He grinned at how he was easily winning the bargaining.

"I--I don't know," she said, turning her head away coyly.

"Look, if you never wanted anal, why did you so willingly show me your pretty anus--during your lap-dances, which you had only with me, and every time I saw you on the stage last night? Why did you like it when your boss fucked your ass? If you don't like to take it up your beautiful asshole, why did you let me finger-fuck it during our lap-dances?"

"Well, I knew you liked it, and I wanted to please you," she answered timidly.

"Then please me completely. I'll be very gentle, I promise. I'll do your homework for you; I'll deflower you; and I'll lubricate your rectum thoroughly before I put my cock in so it won't hurt. Please--satisfy me. I'm on fire for you."

"Well,..." she dithered, half in coyness and half in teasing him. "Oh,...okay," she said nervously.

"Wonderful," he said with a grin from ear to ear. They reached a bus stop near Luvlee's and got off the bus. They went to the back entrance in the parking lot, where nobody else was. Before they went inside the strip-joint, he asked, "Can you undress for me here? I want to see your naked body in the bright light."

"OK," she said as she undid the rest of her shirt buttons. "But what if somebody sees us?" She took the white shirt off.

"I'll protect you, as best I can, anyway." He admired her pink lace brassiere.

"OK," she said as she unbuckled her skirt belt. Then she undid her skirt button, unzipped the front zipper, and let the plaid skirt fall to her feet. She turned around so he could see her panties from behind as she undid her bra.

"What beautiful underwear," he panted as her bra came off. She turned around so he could see her large, shaking breasts. As she pulled down her panties, she looked up at him with shy eyes. He smiled at the sight of her brown pubic hair. She admired the bulge she saw growing in his pants.

She turned around so he could see her behind as she bent over and took off her shoes and socks. Now completely naked, she put all of her clothes in her school bag. Then, knowing he wanted to see her anus, she spread her legs wide apart so both her anus and vulva were showing, and, still bent over, she looked back upside down at him from between her legs. Her eyes betrayed her nervousness: liking her body in a dark strip-joint was one thing; liking it in the daylight, where any imperfections of hers would be more visible, was another. She was terrified that he would see something he didn't like.

Staring at her wrinkly caramel anus and cherry-cream vulva, he said, "Beautiful. Beautiful."

Still bent over and looking back at him from between her legs, she giggled with relief. Her confidence was growing in proportion with the rising phallus in his pants. He bent down and with the whole width of his tongue slowly licked her from her clitoris, to her vaginal opening, including her labia, all the way to her perineum, and every inch of her anus, contemplating every wrinkle, and beyond the anus up to the top of her anal cleft. He didn't mind the faecal smell: it was her natural smell, and he wanted to worship it all. Sighing with excitement, she giggled at his thoroughness. Then they went into the bar.

**********************

That night, after finishing at Luvlee's (she gave only Wayne lap-dances), they left early to find a nearby sex shop. He bought some anal lubricant for her, as well as the vibrator and butt-plug she was using to masturbate and entertain Jim with. She called her mom on her cell-phone and said she was staying at Candice's again for the night.

They took a taxi to Wayne's apartment. As soon as they got in his room, she started taking off her school uniform. He took off only his shoes, pants, and underwear, since he assumed she didn't want to see his hairy beer belly. She didn't care how unattractive his body was: she wanted to feel his fingers stimulating her erogenous zones as he had done so expertly during all the lap-dances she'd given him that day and the day before. She also, of course, wanted to know what his huge phallus would feel like inside her vagina. Naked, she got on his bed on all fours with her legs spread wide open, displaying her vulva and anus for him. He put a condom on and got on the bed. Instead of going inside her immediately, he lay on his side and pulled her body next to his so she, now also laying on her side, had her back against his chest. Lying this way for several minutes, he cradled her in his arms; his erection went between her legs, just under her vulva to tease her.

His left hand fondled her left breast, and his right hand went down to touch her vagina. He found her hymen and gently played with it as a woman would play with a man's erect penis. "My sweet, lovely virgin," he sighed.

"Please don't call me that," she said, still insecure about her lack of sexual experience.

"But you are a virgin, my baby. The Virgin Camilla." He tickled her hymen again.

"Don't!" She was on the verge of tears again.

"Sweetie, cherish your last moment of innocence. Once it's gone, it'll never come back. You don't understand how beautiful your purity is. You'll appreciate it not too long after it's gone forever." He rocked her back and forth in his arms. "Sweet little virgin. Sweet innocent virgin Camilla." He kissed her on the back of her head. He heard her quietly sobbing. "Oh, my baby. OK, let's do this." She turned around and lay on her back. He got on top of her in the missionary position.

"Please be gentle," she said in a trembling voice. "I wanna say sorry in advance if I don't please you much." She was shaking with nervousness and insecurity.

"Don't worry, sweetie," he reassured her as he put the tip of his phallus against her vaginal opening. "I'll guide you through the whole thing. Don't be scared. I'll be gentle, but popping your cherry will hurt. Be ready for that."

"OK," she sighed as he started pushing his phallus in. "Oh!" she sighed. As it went inside, she felt the most incredible pleasure she'd ever had. It was so hard! It was so big! It was so thick! Her vagina was already welling up with moisture...Then the tip of his penis punched her hymen. "Ah!" she squealed in pain. He kept puncturing and and piercing that obtrusive maiden-head, that obstacle to their pleasure. Now a different liquid mixed with her fluids of delight--blood. Getting rid of that hymen was like chopping a thick piece of wood with a blunt axe: difficult, and irritating. Camilla felt extremes of pleasure and sharp pain; it was confusing for her to decide if she was more in agony than in ecstasy, or vice versa. His penis was sore, too, but the pleasure he got from the tightness of her virgin vagina greatly compensated. Finally, the maiden-head was cracked. "Ah!" she screamed in pain. A dull but intense soreness remained inside her, but the pleasure of his huge phallus sliding in and out made it easier to ignore that. Now she was screaming mostly with pleasure. Soon, he gave her her first penile-vaginal orgasm: she screamed in whistle register, and her come splashed all over them and the bed; her come was thoroughly dyed with her blood. He kept pumping inside her, nearing orgasm himself. She couldn't believe how endowed he was! The paradox of simultaneous pain and pleasure was overwhelming for her: his phallus reached and stimulated every cavity, every wall inside her; her G-spot and A-spot were sizzling with arousal; at the same time, the soreness reminded her of the rupture. She came again, and so did he, soon after.

They lay there, moaning and catching their breath for a minute. "Thank you. For...deflowering me," she panted.

Staring at the pretty pool of blood mixed with come on the bed, he panted, "My pleasure."

She got up on all fours and pushed her behind out so he could see her anus. Looking back at him, she timidly asked, "Wanna put it in my bum now?"

He looked at the pretty hole and and stroked it with his index finger. "Not now," he said. "I'm too sore. Maybe tomorrow." He replaced the bloody bed-sheet with a clean one, and they went to sleep.

*************************

The next morning, Wayne woke up to see Camilla's behind pointing at his face. She'd showered already, and her freshly-cleaned anus looked like a the puckered lips of a woman without makeup on, a woman's lips ready to perform fellatio. "You want to have anal sex with me now?" she asked as she looked back at him with wide-open eyes and pursed lips.

His penis felt less sore now, and it was hardening quickly. "Yes!" he said, and kissed her anus. He got up, masturbated to get himself completely erect, and put on another condom. He got behind her and got the anal lube. He lubricated her rectum thoroughly, delighting in making his finger rove around and smear all of her rectal walls with lubricant. Then he put some lubricant on his penis, and gently pushed the tip against her anus. "Oh, you beautiful little asshole, I'm going to conquer you!" he grunted. She was scared about his size, worried that he would tear her apart, but so far enjoyed the sensation. He slowly slid it in about an inch; he didn't want to overwhelm her. She moaned with pleasure: she could feel stimulation of her vaginal walls from through the other side where his phallus was rubbing against her rectal walls. She'd enjoyed this stimulation when Mr. Chen, her boss, put his smaller penis inside her anus. It surprised her then to feel vaginal pleasure--she thought it would hurt--and the even greater pleasure she was feeling now surprised her all the more. Wayne pushed it in an inch further--she liked it! Finally, he slowly and carefully slid all the way in. They moaned in unison. His phallus was in love with her anus, and her rectum craved his probing cock. In...out. In...out...

Wayne looked down at her behind, loving the sight of his long, thick phallus all the way inside her ass, seeing his pubic hair brushing against her anal cleft. His pubic hair tickled her. What a sweet girl Camilla was! he thought. Only the day before at Luvlee's, he was looking at her beautiful brown puckered prune of an anus, the anus she didn't even realize was showing, the anus she didn't even know he was lusting after, and now she was allowing him to enjoy it! Every inch of it! "How do you feel, Camilla?" he grunted. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she groaned. "Not at all...I like it...enjoy yourself...I want...to please you."

He came at those kind words. "Oh!" he shouted. He pulled out and lay on his back for several minutes, contemplating the happiest morning of his entire life. He removed the condom; the reservoir tip had an excess of come. She remained in the same position, on all fours; he looked at and admired the gaping hole between her buttocks. Her wide-open anus looked like the mouth of a shocked, screaming woman. "Beautiful," he sighed. "Beautiful."

"Wayne," she asked. "Will you teach me how to do oral sex on you now?"

"In a little while, when I'm hard again," he said. "Just know that I'm a hard task master when it comes to teaching fellatio."

"Good," she said earnestly. "I want the discipline; I want the practice. I don't want to stop learning until I've mastered the technique."

"Camilla," he sighed. "You're beautiful."

*************************

Camilla, on all fours on the bed, had to balance herself with her head on the bed; for both hands were busy shoving toys in and out of her vagina and rectum. Her left hand used the vibrator to explore and massage her G-and A-spots, and her right hand pushed the butt plug deep inside her rectum. In...out. In...out...

All the while as she was pumping herself, she thought about her sexual encounter with Wayne. Sometimes she shoved the vibrator a little too aggressively inside her vagina, in memory of the painful rupture of her hymen. She was fortunate not to cause any bleeding. At one point, she pulled out both toys so Jim could see the holes wide open, as when Wayne saw her gaping anus. She made sure her behind was pointed at the camera so he could get a good look. She looked back at the camera with eyes that wanted to see if what he saw was pleasing him. Then she put the toys back inside--deep inside, and continued probing herself until orgasm.

*************************

Jim zoomed in on her vagina and anus as soon as she pulled the toys out. He studied both gaping maws as he played with himself. "Oh, you're so fuckable, girl!" he groaned. He saw her put the toys back in, and both voyeur and exhibitionist continued masturbating. He loved the way she looked back at him as she probed away. "You want me to look...you little bad girl...you want to please me...and you are...Oh!" He was nearing orgasm.

When she started gushing her orgasm, she opened her vagina and kept it pointed straight at the camera; she was also quite close to the hole in the wall. Jim enjoyed watching a fountain of come spew right at him, that is, at his computer screen. The gushing almost reached the camera lens, and one or two drops got on it. He didn't care: a quick cleaning would fix that. "You're a star, girl. A fucking star," he panted, then came.



Camilla Ch. 025



Again, Camilla threw away the come-soaked paper towels that were on the bed when she'd masturbated; then she went to the bathroom to pee, and went back to bed to sleep for an hour. Candice came home around 6 PM, and went into the bedroom to give Camilla some more cough mixture.

"How do you feel?" Candice asked as she brought the spoon of cough mixture to Camilla's mouth.

"Much better," Camilla answered before taking the spoon in her mouth. "I'm almost 100%; I should be fine for tomorrow's tests."

"Good," Candice said. Then she saw the hole in the wall. Camilla forgot to put the pencil can in front of the hole. "What's with the hole there?" Then Candice saw the camera lens. "Is our neighbour filming us?" she whispered.

"Let's talk outside the bedroom," Camilla said as she got out of bed. "He may have a microphone." They went to the kitchen, and Candice started making dinner for them.

"Did you already know about this?" Candice asked.

"Well, yeah," Camilla said. "But I always put a pencil can in front of the hole so he wouldn't see you."

"That's not good enough!" Candice said angrily. "If you're right that he has a camera too, he can hear every thing we say. It's an invasion of privacy. We've got to make him get rid of that camera; tell the landlord, and have that pervert evicted."

"Well, if we involved the landlord, the neighbour may just hide the camera, so we'd have no evidence," Camilla said. "Why don't we make him stop his voyeurism the way we stopped Mr. Pierce? It would be a lot more fun that way."

"Yeah, that could work," Candice said with a wicked smile. "We could even involve Mr. Pierce in this."

After dinner, having fully formulated their plan, they studied for the next day's tests.

**************************

Camilla breezed through her history examination. As she was writing, she blew a kiss at Hanson, who smiled but tried to ignore her. Later, Hanson dropped his pen on the floor near Camilla's desk. When he bent down to pick it up, he couldn't resist looking under her desk: she wasn't wearing any panties! She knew he was looking, and put her hand on her vulva, opening her labia so he could get a better look. Then he came to his senses, reminding himself that he had a wife, and got up and went back to his seat.

In art class, she had to apply all she'd learned by drawing a picture in charcoal. When Mr. Langella saw her finished drawing, he was shocked: it showed, from left to right, Williams, Knowles, Burgess, Langella, and Johnson carrying a naked Camilla. Williams and Knowles held each arm, and Burgess, Langella, and Johnson held her legs, all three of them standing between her legs. Though the drawing didn't accurately render their faces or hers, it was obvious to Langella who the people were supposed to be.

He asked her if he could talk with her privately; they went into another room.

"Did we hurt you last Friday night?" he asked of their sexual encounter.

"No," she reassured him. Then she smiled slyly and with affected modesty taunted him with these words: "But you did rape me."

"Oh, come on," he said, half-nervously. "You loved it."

"I resisted," she purred coyly. "I should call the police."

"You came copiously," he insisted. "Not even a radical feminist would believe you if she'd seen your come there."

Then she pulled on his tie to get him close to her, and in his ear she whispered, "Your cock made my pussy smile." She licked his ear, briefly fondled him in the groin, and left the room, saying, "Let's do that again sometime, but in your home."

***************************

After doing their phys ed examination, which included jogging several laps in as short a time as possible, Camilla and Candice checked the shower area for hidden cameras. There were none. Then they met Pierce in his office and checked for any new DVDs of girls showering; again, none.

"I'll be teaching in a different school next year, so you won't need to check the showers anymore," Pierce said. Then, apprehensively, he added, "But what about my sexual penance?" (He was clearly enjoying it.)

"We're glad you asked, sir," said Candice. "We were about to invite you to our apartment this evening. Wanna come?"

"Sure," he said eagerly. "What time?"

"Any time after six should be good," Camilla said. Then she gave him her card and said, "Our address is on this. See you soon." Then the girls left.

***************************

After the girls went home, Candice took some cough mixture and blew nasal mist up her nostrils, for she had caught Camilla's cold. She would feel much better for when Pierce was to arrive. Having changed into a tight white dress with red spots, Camilla left the apartment to bring a friend back. She got on the elevator with Jim having already got on.

As the elevator was going down, she looked up and down at him. Face to face with her, he was much shier than the raunchy-mouthed voyeur who'd watched her masturbate. "You're him, aren't you?" she asked with a sly smile.

"I'm sorry?" he timidly asked, playing dumb.

"You're him. Our next-door neighbour, the watcher," she insisted, grinning. The elevator reached the basement, and they walked out to find their cars. His was beside hers. "You're him, I know."

"Oh, no," he stammered. "I'm just visiting him. I o-often visit your n-neighbour. We're brothers."

"I see," she said, easily seeing through his cowardly lies. "What's your name?"

"Oh, uh...if you don't mind, I'd prefer to remain anonymous," he said as he clumsily opened his car door and got in.

"Well, Mr. Anonymous," she said, bending over his window after he closed the door; she showed off a generous amount of cleavage, with a few millimetres of areolae showing. "Why don't you come by our apartment tonight? You can know more of me that way."

"OK," he said, smiling. "What time?" He started his car.

"Oh, maybe seven or eight. OK?"

"Sure," he panted. "See you then." He started backing his car out of his parking spot.

"Bye," she said. She smiled as she saw him drive away. Then she got in her car and drove off to get her friend.

***************************

When Camilla returned with her friend, Mr. Pierce was already there. Candice had had him stripped naked and tied, at the wrists and ankles, to two pillars on each side of one of the entrances to the kitchen. Camilla's friend, a gay 18-year-old named Michael, was drooling with lust at the sight of Mr. Pierce's frontal nudity. The man and the boy recognized each other: Pierce had taught him a few years ago at a different school, and the boy had always found him attractive; so seeing him there, naked and tied up, was like a dream come true.

Though sexually humiliated, Pierce, always a masochist, was also getting excited; he was even getting an erection.

"Please don't hurt me, Michael," Pierce said in a tremulous voice.

"I don't plan to, sir," Michael said as he bowed before his former teacher's phallus. "I want to please you." He put Pierce's penis in his mouth and started sucking. The bi-curious side of Pierce enjoyed it, while the homophobic side of him shook with fear.

The doorbell rang. "Our neighbour's here," Camilla said. She removed her dress and shoes. Naked, she opened the door. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," Jim panted while looking up and down her delicious body.

"Looks a lot better in the flesh than on a camera, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Th-that wasn't me," Jim insisted. "That was my brother, I guess."

"Right," she said. "Come on in." They walked into the living room area. Jim was shocked to see Michael fondling Pierce's erection while kissing his buttocks. Pierre's humiliation--and arousal--doubled with his new spectator.

"Holy fuck!" Homophobic Jim screamed. "Who are those queers?"

"Hey, don't call them mean names," Camilla chided. "They're my friends. Only Michael is gay. The naked man is our gym teacher. He's doing sexual penance."

"Sexual penance?" Jim asked. "For what?"

"For watching us showering with hidden cameras," Candice explained. "We hate having our privacy invaded like that." Jim shuddered at these words. He sensed he was in a trap.

"If someone wants us sexually, he should tell us directly," Camilla added. "Not hide behind the anonymity of a camera, him knowing us but us not knowing who he is."

"B-but I never," Jim insisted. "M-my brother, maybe..."

"We know, Mr. Anonymous," Camilla 'reassured' him.

"Some guys are so pathetic," Candice said. "Prying into our private sexual worlds, all cocky, shouting four-letter words as they judge us and jerk off, safely unknown to us; and they don't even have the courage to tell us who they are. What cowards."

Michael got up and walked toward Jim. "Get away from me, you faggot!" Jim shouted as he backed away. "Don't you even think about fuckin' my ass!"

"I'm not thinking about that," muscular Michael said as he neared Jim. He punched Jim in the face, knocking him to the floor. "I'm thinking about kicking your ass." MIchael kicked Jim several times. He let Jim get up, then said, "Now get your camera out of that wall, or you'll be the one tied up and naked!" Jim ran out of the apartment.

"Bye, Mr. Anonymous," Camilla sang.

Candice laughed hysterically. "Thanks, Michael," she said.

"My pleasure," Michael said. "Look, I'd love to stay, but I have some important stuff to do at home. No need to drive me back, Camilla; I'll take the bus. Mr. Pierce, call me some time; we need to get together." He blew Pierce a kiss and left. Pierce, remembering the skill with which Michael sucked, had some serious thinking to do.

Candice got naked while Camilla untied Pierce. He lay on the floor on his back. Camilla sat on his face while Candice stroked his cock to get it hard. She got on top of him, and put his erection in her welcoming vagina. She moaned as it went deep inside her, sliding in and out. He put his tongue deep inside Camilla's vagina, tickling her G-spot. Then he took his tongue out and sucked on her clitoris. His lips embraced her labia and gently pulled on them. Then he enthusiastically licked her anus. As Candice continued bouncing on him, nearing orgasm (as was Camilla), she got on idea. "Make a little room, Camilla," she said. She pulled Pierce's phallus out, and went over to Camilla. Both girls aimed their vulvas over Pierce's face. The girls fingered each other's clitorises and took turns sucking each other's breasts. Camilla would kiss Candice on the cheeks and lick her ears, careful to avoid kissing her on the lips, because of Candice's cold. Candice fondled Camilla's breasts, gently pinching her nipples. Finally, the girls orgasmed. Camilla gushed all over Pierce's face, and Candice noted a few drops of her own come drip on his nose.

"Bukkake!" Candice shouted.

"A bukkake baptism," Camilla added. Both girls laughed.



Camilla Ch. 026



The next day, Camilla went to her mother's house for the first time since she'd moved out. Though her mother was hoping for reconciliation with her, Camilla had other plans. They were to get together so Camilla would meet her mother's fiance; she would soon have a new father. No one, of course, could replace her biological father, whom she so deeply loved; but her stepfather-to-be would be of interest to her, in terms of a different kind of love...a love she could use to express her still seething hatred of her mother. The 18-year-old girl would get revenge on her mother for dominating her and keeping her a baby for so long; and she'd get even in a very special way...

Camilla waited in her old bedroom for her mother and her fiance to arrive; her mother had driven out to get him. She, on the second floor, watched out the window for her mother's car to come. After about ten minutes of waiting, it came. Curiously she looked down as the man got out of the car; she was hoping he'd be good-looking, and she wasn't disappointed. He, 42, had short, black hair, he was tall and thin, and he wore a navy blue suit. She liked what she saw.

When he and her mom came in the house, she heard her mom say she needed to use the bathroom. "Go on upstairs and introduce yourself to her; she's probably in her bedroom," her mother said.

Already getting excited and breathing heavier, Camilla took off her shorts. She was wearing a pink short-sleeved shirt that was left unbuttoned so lots of cleavage would show; she also wore yellow, orange, and white striped socks; her panties were pink- and white-striped, with a cute picture of a cartoon girl's face right where Camilla's arse was. Camilla looked like a blonde Felicity Fey. She left her bedroom door ajar to encourage him too look in. She was sitting on her old bed.

He knocked on the door. "Come in," she said. He walked in, shocked to see her in her underwear, but turned on all the same. Since she showed no sign of embarrassment or modesty, he was encouraged to keep looking, and his erection grew in his pants. She was on the bed with her back to him; she used her thumbs to pull her panties down a little at the hips so he could see a half-inch of buttock cleavage. She looked back at him with her eyes and mouth wide open, a facial expression with all the innocence and wonder of a little child. "So, you're gonna be my new daddy, right?" she asked.

"That's right," he said as he walked toward her to shake her hand. "You don't have to call me 'Dad' if you don't want to, though. You can call me Troy." She turned around to shake his hand, and she bent down to show off her cleavage, as well as most of her right breast; only her areola was covered. When they shook hands, his hand shook twice as fast as hers. She noticed his erection poking out in his pants. 

He was fortunate in that her mother was shitting in the bathroom; this gave him more time with Camilla. "When are you marrying my mommy?" she asked as she got off the bed to stand in front of him; she left only about two inches of space between them. 

"Oh,...uh, real soon," he said with a shaky voice. "Next month." He raised his right hand to scratch his nose, and Camilla deliberately moved forward; his hand touched her left breast. It bounced. "Oh, I'm sorry," he sheepishly said.

"That's OK," she said, as though he'd merely touched her elbow. They could hear her mother coming out of the bathroom.

"Quick: put your pants on," he whispered nervously as her mom's footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

Camilla casually walked over and picked up her shorts. He, ogling her in her panties, was torn between wanting her to stay in her underwear and wanting her to hurry up and get decent before her mom saw her. She bent over and put one leg in her shorts. "Do you know where Luvlee's is? I work there." she said, looking back at him with her behind, still only in panties, pointed out at him. 

"What?" he asked, looking back and forth between the stairs her mother had half ascended and at her, still in her underwear, bent over with her legs wide open in a Lambda shape. Her behind still stuck out at him, with that cute girl's face on the ass of her panties seeming to want a kiss from him. She looked back at him, upside-down from between her legs, her eyes asking him if her state of undress pleased him. "Put your pants on. Hurry," he whispered urgently, then looked back out of the bedroom at her mother, who was now at the top of the stairs and approaching the bedroom. "Collette," he said, trying to stall her, "Your daughter's very nice. She's graduating from high--"

"What's she up to?" Collette interrupted as she made him open the door. "So, Camilla, you've met Troy? What do you think of him?"

"He seems very nice," Camilla, straightened up with her back to them, said while quietly zipping up her shorts. Troy was safe from suspicion...for now...

**************************

That night at Bates Massage, Mr. Grisham, of all men, came over for a massage. He'd heard she was working there, and had heard of the 'extra services' given there. Though he'd been good for the past week and a half, he no longer could resist the temptation of having Camilla again. She was all too happy to oblige, and they went into a private room. 

He paid extra so both of them would get naked and in the bathtub. They sat in the water together, her behind him. She lathered the soap in her hands and, bringing them over his shoulders, slowly moved her fingers on his hairy chest, tickling his nipples. He sighed with pleasure; he felt like Caesar with a slave girl bathing him.

Then they got up so they could wash each other. She soaped up his belly as he washed her breasts. He'd rub soap on them, then watch them wiggle when he moved his hands away. Next, she got a lather and washed his fully-erect penis and balls. She slid her hand slowly along the shaft and felt his testes jiggle as her fingers danced all over his scrotum. He soaped up her vulva, moving his finger deep in and out of her vagina; she moaned her thanks. Then they washed each other's behinds, and put their soaped-up fingers deep inside each other's anuses: they grunted in response. At last, they took turns squatting and washing each other's legs and feet, kissing each other's genitals as they did so. Then they got out of the tub. They enjoyed drying each other: she, giggling, would make his phallus bounce up and down after rubbing it with the towel; he checked her anus and vagina very carefully after drying to make sure every inch of her was perfectly clean. She was clean. Then he got on the massaging table, on his back.

"What do you want me to do now, sir?" she asked.

"Let's get in the 69 position, OK?" he suggested.

"OK," she said, and got on the table on all fours. 

"Will the table be strong enough with the weight of both of us on it?" he asked, then started licking her clitoris.

"Sure," she said, and put his phallus in her mouth.

She sucked and he licked, and their moans rose in a slow crescendo. As he licked her vulva, he admired the sight of her pretty puckered beige anus, just an inch or two from his eyes. He put his tongue as deep inside her vagina as he could, and used the tip of his tongue to vibrate against her G-spot. She sighed in a high falsetto. Then he pulled his tongue out and started eagerly licking her anus; he put his finger in her vagina and reached for her A-spot. She was very wet, and her labia were swollen from the pleasure he was giving her. 

She continued going up and down on his cock, often taking it all in. She wrapped her upper lip around his corpus spongiosum to stimulate it more. She shook his balls gently with her hands. She pulled his penis out, then tickled the urethral hole with the tip of her tongue. Shortly after she put it back in, he ejaculated: she gulped down every last drop of his come. 

She plateaued in her excitement, but didn't orgasm. Instead of letting him continue licking her to orgasm, she got off the table, had him roll over, and massaged him. That's when she realized: she was no longer infatuated with him. When he'd resisted her, he was more attractive; coming to Bates Massage to pay for sex with her made him seem a lecherous pig in her eyes, just like so many other clients whom she'd massaged. Besides, he wasn't her teacher anymore--she was graduating. She correctly predicted that university professors would be much hotter than Grisham, since their intelligence and learning would make Grisham seem like a kindergarten student in comparison. He was nothing to her now.

She was free from sexual obsession...for now.



Camilla Ch. 027



Camilla got home from Bates Massage around 11:30 PM and saw Candice, in an elegant black brassiere and matching panties, waiting for her on the living room sofa.

"Really," Camilla said as she began stripping naked by the front door. "You should be a stripper, Candice. You have the body for it."

"Really?" Candice asked, looking at herself front and back, with her tattoo of a flower motif on her back just above her ass.

"Really," Camilla answered. When she got fully naked, the girls ran into the bedroom and got in bed.

Candice was hungry for Camilla's cunt, and she dove in with gusto. Candice had a wild, bad-girl look in her eyes as she licked; Camilla wasn't sure which excited her more, Candice's tongue, or her lascivious eyes. Her tongue vibrated quickly against Camilla's clitoris, and she made humming and buzzing noises to stimulate it more. Between each moan and squeal, Camilla continued persuading Candice to work at Luvlee's with her.

"Really, Candice...oh! You're 18...legal age...ah! You have a...beautiful body...oh, yes!...and you'll make...a ton of money...ah!" Camilla ran her fingers through Candice's hair.

"Yeah, but,..." Candice replied between licks, sucks, and buzzing, "what about...creepy guys?...I don't like...them touching me...as they do you." Candice slid two fingers up Camilla's vagina.

"There are bouncers...ah! for that...and lap dances...ooh! with touching...give you...$20 a song...ah!"

"Really?" Candice's index finger tickled Camilla's G-spot, while her long finger reached Camilla's A-spot.

"Oh, yeah!" Camilla was approaching orgasm, and her hips gyrated to Candice's manipulations. "We can...eat each other...on stage, too. Oh!"

"Really?" Candice stuck her little finger deep inside Camilla's rectum. "Live sex shows?"

"Oh...yes!" Camilla squealed in whistle register, and her orgasm exploded all over Candice's face.

Giggling at the foam that covered her face, Candice said, "I'll do it. I'll strip with you, baby. Any day."

************************

The next day, Camilla wore a light-green dress with the front buttons undone to show off cleavage. She was walking down the street, in the direction of the kindergarten she went to as a child. She wondered if her old teacher still worked there. She'd had a crush on him back then, and now that her crush on Grisham was gone, she wanted to seek out other desirable teachers from her past. If her old teacher was still teaching at the kindergarten, she could work her cat moves on him and enjoy him while the time was ripe; for when the fall was to come, her fascination with university professors would surely make him quite dull in comparison.

She arrived at the kindergarten, and asked a female teacher if Mr. Baker still taught there--he did! In fact, he still taught in the same old classroom, Room 11. Camilla's heart began to pound. The teacher offered to show Camilla where Baker's classroom was, but Camilla's photographic memory would make finding the room quick and easy. Besides, she wanted as few other people around as possible.

When she got to Room 11, Mr. Baker was alone in the room, writing at his desk. She walked in, giggling excitedly like a giddy little school girl, and closed and locked the door.

"Hello," he said. "May I help you?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Baker," she said in an affectedly shy voice, like when she was his student back then, and also like when she spoke with Wayne and Grisham; this was a persona she called 'Angel'. "Do you remember me, sir?" She shrugged her shoulders 'shyly' and swayed her hips from side to side as she walked over to him.

"I'm not sure," he said. "Did you use to be my student?"

"Oh, yes," she said, approaching him. "It was about 13 years ago that I was in this classroom with you as my teacher. I'm Camilla, Camilla Mennon."

She looked at him as he thought for a moment to try to remember her. Though he'd lost much of his hair and had gained some weight, he--43--was still attractive to her, for those imperfections reminded her of Wayne. "Wait a minute...Oh, yeah! You were cute little Camilla! My little sweetheart! How are you?"

Ebullient with joy that he remembered her, she giggled and shook with excitement, then threw her arms around him, pushing her bra-less breasts against his face. She also put her knee on his chair between his legs, pushing her knee against his already hardening penis. She wrapped her breasts around his face and squeezed them against his cheeks, moaning in ecstasy. Since her dress was unbuttoned at the top, he felt the bare skin of her breasts caressing his face. "Oh, I'm so happy," she sighed. She pulled back and looked down in his eyes. "You remember me." A tear ran down her cheek.

"How big you've grown," he stuttered between panting--the word 'big' having more than one meaning. "How'd you get so big? I remember when you were a tiny, skinny little--"

"You don't think I'm fat, do you?" she asked with a pout.

"No, of course not," he reassured her. "On the contrary, you've grown into a very beautiful young woman." He couldn't believe how beautiful!

"Thank you," she giggled. "Oh sir, you were so sweet to me when I was a child. Remember when the other kids laughed at me and made fun of me, because I was so skinny? And you saw me crying, and held me, comforted me, and made the pain all go away. I'll never forget that." She lifted her dress and showed off her white panties.

"That's what teachers are for," he said, trying unsuccessfully to avert his eyes from the lovely sight of her lace underwear. He tried to turn his mind off sexual matters by mentioning, ironically, a memory connected with what she was doing. "Speaking of w-when the kids used to make f-fun of you, remember how you, in a d-dress, used to s-sit with your legs up, showing off your u-u-underwear. That was awfully silly of you, and that w-was one of the things the kids laughed at you for doing. I hope you don't m-make a habit of d-doing that anymore." He vainly hoped that would make her stop flashing in front of him.

She grabbed a chair and sat on it facing him, with her legs up exactly as she used to when she was a little girl, only now instead of doing in the insouciant, naive way an innocent little girl would do, she did it intentionally and lewdly, with her legs wide open. What's more, the right side of her panties was folded in a bit, and some of her vulva was showing. She looked down, giggled, and said, "Old habits die hard." For obvious reasons, she didn't budge an inch to cover herself.

"I guess not," he said nervously. "Look, when I mentioned that old memory, I didn't mean it in a sexual way. I never thought about you that way." He said this in all sincerity.

"I know," she said, totally believing him. She got off the chair, went over to him and caressed his cheek with her hand. "You're a decent man. You'd never hurt a child. But I'm eighteen now, the age of consent. And look: I have curves now." She straightened up and swung her hips from left to right, and turned around so he could get a good look at her figure. "Another time I remember back then, when another teacher helped me change my clothes, and you saw me naked--"

"Wait, wait, wait! Look, I was never interested in that!" he protested. He now wasn't only getting really uncomfortable, he was also getting offended at what he incorrectly thought she was insinuating. Why did she remember such bizarre things?

"I know you weren't," she reassured him, trying to placate an anger she'd never intended to ignite. "I didn't mean to bring this memory up for that reason, sir, really. I know you're a good man. I'd never have had a crush on you if you weren't. It's just that when you saw me, I was all skinny and ugly; and now I've blossomed, as you can see. I don't want you to have that memory of my nakedness as your last one of me."

"Camilla, I don't even remember that at all, and I'm glad. Why would I want to, if I'm as decent as you say?" He was completely dumbfounded at what her meaning could possibly be.

"Good, I'm glad you don't remember. Still, you saw me then: a skinny, ugly, sickly little girl. I don't want you to remember me that way. I want you to see me as I am now. I want you to see me naked tonight. I work at Luvlee's as a lap-dancer." She gave him her card, which had the strip joint's address on it. "I want you to see how my body has grown. It's a point of pride for me: I'm not the ugly girl I used to be."

"Camilla, you were never ugly," Baker insisted. "You always let those mean kids get to you. You always were a lovely girl--though I don't mean that in a sexual way."

"Really?" she purred as she got up close to him. "I hope you'll change your mind about that tonight." She pushed her breasts against his face again, put her knee against his fully-erect penis again, and gave him a most sensuous kiss on the cheek. Then she got up, turned around, and walked out of the room, lifting her dress up so he could see the ass of her panties.

***************************

Later that afternoon, Candice drove Camilla into downtown Vancouver, with the intention of dropping her off in front of Luvlee's. Camilla was in an exhibitionistic mood, so she started taking off her clothes in the car. "What are you undressing here for?" Candice asked. "Don't you want to wait until you get there?"

"Stop the car," Camilla, now naked, said. "I wanna get out and flash in front of everybody."

"What?" Candice said, slowing the car near a crowded park and basketball court. "Are you crazy?"

"Just for a few seconds. I'm horny. If things get out of control, I'll just get in and we can drive away." Candice stopped the car, and Camila got out.

"Cam--are you crazy?!" Candice shouted, though Camilla was completely deaf to her.

Camilla proudly displayed her nakedness before a large group of people--young and old, male and female, pedestrians and drivers, and people in and outside the park. All of the spectators' mouths dropped to the ground, and among the men, another appendage started to rise. On the balls of her bare feet, Camilla walked back and forth on the sidewalk with joie de vivre and an ear-to-ear grin, her arms up high, beckoning everyone to look at and appraise her beauty. She ran her hands through her hair and let it slowly drop down her back. She giggled from the flattery of the chorus of cheers she received, though she was still deaf to Candice's entreaties for her to get back in the car. Indeed, with no intention of getting back in the car just yet, Camilla then squatted to show off her vulva, opening her labia so everyone at 12:00 from her could see her vagina. There was no shortage of people, mostly men but more than a few women, taking out their cell-phones and taking pictures and recording video of her. Would her exhibition be shown on the evening news? Camilla wondered to herself. Next, she got on all fours with her legs wide open so everyone could see her cunt and asshole. Finally, after more loud begging from Candice, who hoped no police were near, Camilla opened the back door and jumped in the car. They drove away quickly, laughing hysterically, while everyone in the park gave their nude performer a round of applause.

Candice drove by another park. Camilla had been masturbating furiously the whole time in the back seat. "Oh, God, Candice, I'm so fuckin' horny! All those people saw me naked, and they loved me! I'm no skinny, ugly girl, no way! I wonder if any of them know me? Please, Candice, stop the car and let me get out. I wanna do that again."

"No, baby, not again," Candice said.

"Oh, come on, it'll be really short this time; I'm gonna come."

"Oh, all right; we don't wanna make a mess in the car. But hurry and get it out of your system this time," Candice said, and stopped the car. Camilla got out near the entrance to the park.

She squatted and masturbated on the park grass just off the sidewalk by their car. She showered her come all over the grass in copious spurts--dew in the afternoon--and the fascinated passers-by gave her a lively round of applause, to which she giggled her appreciation. Then she got in the car, and the laughing girls drove away.

"I need to pee," Camilla said.

"Look, put on your dress first, please? I'll find a public washroom. Here's another park." Candice parked the car by the park where a public washroom was a five-yard dash away. She handed Camilla her dress, but the naked girl was already out the door. "Oh, no. Camilla, not again! You're gonna get busted for indecent exposure!"

Camilla, deaf to Candice's imploring, squatted on the grass next to the sidewalk and started peeing. She moaned as the yellow stream flowed from her urethra; her right hand held her labia open so all was clearly visible to passers-by walking on the sidewalk. One man in his late forties was walking by and stopped to enjoy the show. "Hi," Camilla said to him with a sheepish grin.

"Hi," he said. "How can such a mundane bodily function--so revolting when performed by the average person--look so beautiful when a naked goddess does it?"

"Thank you," she said with another appreciative giggle. The last of her urine poured out in spurts and droppings, and she got up and got back in the car. More cheers and applause could be heard as the car drove toward Luvlee's.



Camilla Ch. 028



Candice dropped Camilla off a few blocks away from Luvlee's. Camilla put her clothes on after she got out of the car: wanting to stay publicly nude for as long as possible, she first put on her socks and shoes, then her panties, and finally her dress; a few passersby appreciated what they saw, and clapped for her. Candice said good-bye and drove off--she would come by Luvlee's later to ask for a job after shopping for some sexy clothing.

As Camilla was walking toward Luvlee's, she went by an artist's shop and studio--Carl's Erotic Art. She looked in the window and admired the paintings she saw; she decided to go in and look around.

Inside, she marvelled at the tight, precise technique of the artist, and the pictures' almost photographic realism, the flawless use of light and shading. There were paintings in oil, and drawings in pencil and charcoal; their sophistication made her own quite promising efforts in Langella's art class seem like a kindergarten student's crayon drawings in comparison. Best of all, true to the store's name, the pictures were all erotic art: nude studies of a beautiful brunette, boldly posed in many ways to display her vulva and anus in the most frank and blunt manner possible. In Camilla's estimation, the artist was a genius--her very definition of sexy. Judging by the name of the shop--she naturally assumed the artist was a man; for all of the pictures were clearly done in the same style; Carl didn't seem to be merely a collector of many artists' work. She began to imagine how exciting it would be to pose nude for him--she hoped he was good-looking, and of her preferred age range.

Nobody was in the front of the store, but she could hear sounds from a room in the back. She went to a door leading there, and saw a sign on it: PLEASE KNOCK AND ASK PERMISSION BEFORE ENTERING. She knocked.

"Open the door a little so I can see you," a man from inside the room said. She opened the door and saw a seated painter at his easel: a big, strong man with scruffy dark brown hair that went down no further than the bottom of his neck. He had piercing brown eyes, and rugged good looks. He must have been at least six foot five in height, probably taller, to Camilla's eyes--he was a giant. In his late thirties, he wore a light brown T-shirt and blue jeans, both stained somewhat with paint. Awed by his size and talent, she knew she wanted him. "What can I help you with?" he asked.

"Are you Carl, sir--the artist?" she timidly asked.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Do you want to come in?"

"Who is it?" an unseen woman in the room asked Carl, her voice coming from the right side of the room, from Camilla's perspective.

"Some girl," he said. "A teenager, by the looks of her. Are you alone? No boys with you?"

"Yes--I mean no--I mean, yes, I'm alone; and no, no boys with me," she stammered.

"OK, you can come in," the woman said. "But close the door behind you."

Camilla came in and saw a nude woman posing for Carl with her legs spread wide open to display her chocolaty vulva and caramel anus. "Oh, excuse me, Miss," Camilla said, reluctantly covering her eyes. It was obvious that the model was the lovely brunette in all the pictures at the front of the shop. Thin, her breasts were average-sized, but firm and well-proportioned; her pubic hair was trimmed, and her whole body was tanned. She looked like one of those ravishing beauties one sees on websites like The Met Art.

"Oh, I think it's OK if you look," the model said with a smile. Camilla was gratified to hear that, because both the man and the woman were getting Camilla wet with excitement. She timidly walked over to Carl, her breathing getting heavier and heavier with each passing second. His painting was half finished, but clearly already showing his brilliant talent.

"Wow, sir," Camilla sighed with amazement. "You are such a great artist. A real master."

"Thank you, sweetie," he said as he daubed some darker paint on the canvas. "I don't know if 'master' is the apt word--"

"Oh, it is," Camilla insisted, panting. "You're incredible. I'm not just flattering you. I'm really impressed." She touched herself between the legs, but from behind, hoping (in vain) that Carl and his model wouldn't notice how aroused she was. Then she got up close to his ear and whispered, "Are you gay?"

"No, of course not," he said, taken aback by such an abrupt question. "What makes you think I'm gay?"

"Well, your model has such a beautiful body, with her pussy showing like that," she explained in whispers. "Only a gay man wouldn't be turned on by her nakedness. You must be really excited."

"No, not at all," he said, annoyed with her brusque comments.

"How can that be? She's so hot." Camilla kept her voice especially low with that last sentence.

"That's right," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "She's also my sister."

"Oh," Camilla giggled in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"My sister's the only model I can have pose for me; so I can work without getting turned on."

"I see," Camilla said. Now she wanted to pose for him all the more. She'd be delighted to get him excited.

"What's your name, honey?" the model asked.

"Camilla," she said. "And yours?"

"Belle," the model said.

"What a perfect name for you," Camilla said in sighs.

"Thank you, sweetie," Belle said with a smirk, easily sensing Camilla's lesbian cravings, but not at all offended by them.

Camilla looked at her watch. "Oh, no. I've got to get to work, or I'll be late. Look, Carl, sir, I'm sorry if what I said offended you."

"Don't worry about it," he said as he mixed pigments on his palette.

"It's just that I really admire you," Camilla explained with a tremulous voice. "You're really amazing. I hope I can come back and watch you work again."

"Sure, no problem," Carl said.

"I gotta go. It was great meeting you both. Bye." Camilla rushed out of the studio, and out of the shop.

"Charming little lesbian, isn't she?" Belle said.

"Charming little bisexual is more like it," Carl corrected.

*************************

Camilla went into Luvlee's and saw Candice there by the bar, looking at the screen of a laptop. Candice was dressed in a provocative black dress. "I guess you got the job," Camilla said to her as she sat down on a barstool.

"Yep," Candice said as she surfed the internet. "Starting now."

"Wow, that was fast," Camilla said. "I guess my recommendation of you sped things along. Mr. Chen must have liked what he saw."

"Not him," Candice said. "His widow hired me."

"Mr. Chen passed away?" Camilla asked, stunned.

"Yes, he did," the bartender confirmed. "Died last night--coronary."

And to think, a little month ago he fucked my ass, Camilla thought.

"He wasn't the only one to die recently," the bartender continued. "That guy you liked--Wayne--he died today. High blood pressure: his friend, Hal, came in today and told me."

"Oh, my God," Camilla whispered in horror. Her first two lovers, dead in an instant. She remained dazed for several seconds.

"Hey, Camilla," Candice said. "Come off of Cloud Nine and look up at the TV. You're a star."

Camilla looked up on the wall-mounted TV screen above the bar, and saw herself, naked by the first park she'd flashed at that afternoon. Somebody at the park obviously took his video recording of her and gave it to the local news. The picture, however, was distorted where her breasts, pubic hair and buttocks were. "Oh, I hate fucking censorship," she said angrily. "People can't see my yummy parts."

There nevertheless wasn't a loss for words about Camilla's exhibitionism among those who saw her at the park. One black man in his thirties said, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about." Another, a white teenager, said, "My kind o' girl." A third man, Asian, in his early twenties and chubby, said, "Baby, if you're watching, my name is Curtis: 092 746 3530--call me, I mean it! This is a cry for help!" The other men behind him laughed.

"Sorry, sweetie," Camilla said. "You're not my type." She frowned in disappointment. "Is there anywhere on the net where that video is posted, uncensored?"

"Yes, there is," Candice answered. "I just found one: check out this porn site." She pressed play for an uncensored video of Camilla masturbating to orgasm by the second park: obviously, someone had a camera handy there, too, and he got up close, even though Camilla didn't see him at the time. He must have hidden himself behind a nearby tree. Camilla took a look, and was thrilled.

"Wow!" she shouted. "How'd you find this?"

"A lot of looking," Candice said. "I saw all those cameras come out at the first park, and knew someone would have posted an uncensored version on a porn website, for public nudity. This one, Exhibitionists of the World, seemed like a sensible place to look, and here it is. Another good thing: scroll down and you'll see how many views your video has had. It's already in the thousands."

"Really?" Camilla asked. She quickly got naked and started masturbating as she read all the viewer responses. "Oh, my God!" Camilla squealed as her right index finger tickled her clitoris. "2, 493 people have watched this video, and I did it only--what?--a half hour to an hour ago? The internet's amazing! So many people know what I look like naked! And in the bright light of day! Oh, I'm so horny!" Some of the customers from behind had noticed Camilla was touching herself. In anticipation of Camilla's imminent orgasm, Candice got up to get some paper towels; she laid them out all over the floor in front of Camilla, who then turned around on her stool so her come would splat on the right place.

Noticing the men watching her, Camilla spread her legs wide so they could get a clear view of her vulva as she fingered it. She continued reading all the lewd comments made about her video.

One man commented: "What a beautiful cascade of come!" Another said, "I think I know that girl--she lives down the street from me, I think." The possibility that that was true got her even more excited, and she put her finger inside her vagina and rubbed it against her G-spot.

Candice was amused to see the group of men watching her friend masturbating, and she wanted to join in on the fun; so she put her lips to Camilla's right nipple and started sucking. Her hand caressed Camilla's breast as she sucked.

Camilla pulled her finger out of her vagina and resumed fingering her clitoris; then Candice put her finger deep inside Camilla's vagina, massaging her A-spot. This pushed Camilla's excitement to near orgasm. When she read another comment ("I'm sure I once taught that girl French before, many years ago. Her name's Camilla." --Claude Tremblay), the knowledge that an old teacher she'd had a crush on saw her naked, along with Candice's helping hand, made her come an overflowing fountain. The paper towels were put to good use in absorbing it all. The customers applauded and shouted for an encore.

That wouldn't happen right away, though; for Camilla was to go on stage soon.

********************

When she went onstage, a CD of Albanian hip hop music started to play; she didn't know the name of the artist, for it was a gift from an admiring customer. All she knew was she liked the music, for it was perfect to dance to. Over the beat, one could hear a sensuous flute melody played in the Phrygian mode, typical of the exotic sound of East European music. She'd changed her clothes: she now wore tight red pants and a black T-shirt. Her dancing to this first song was predominantly booty shaking: her pretty round behind alternated between quickly wiggling and slowly gyrating clockwise and counter-clockwise before the cheering audience. Sometimes she pushed her ass out in forceful thrusts, and her tight pants went up her anal cleft, giving everyone looking an accurate idea of the shape of her buttocks, even though she wasn't naked yet. At the end of the song, she removed her shoes, socks, and pants to a chorus of appreciative hollers.

The second song was more Albanian hip hop with a Phrygian flute melody, though in a different key. Now wore only the black T-shirt and pink and white vertically striped panties: like the pants, they hugged her buttocks closely, so whenever she bent over and pushed her behind out, one could get an exact idea of the contours of her anal cleft. Some of the men thought they could see her asshole through her panties, and craved a taste. Typically keeping her legs spread wide open when she pushed out and shook her ass, she was sending a not-so-subliminal message to all worthy men that she wanted to receive anal. Around the middle of that song, she took off her shirt, and shook her naturally large breasts before the crowd, who were stupefied at her sexiness. Finally, a half minute before the song ended, she removed the panties; now completely nude, she continued the same booty shaking, with her legs wide open and her golden brown anus and purple vulva clearly visible from behind.

Her third song was more Albanian hip hop with the exotic flute over a slower beat. She got on all fours and crawled all over the stage; her legs were wide open as usual, so both holes were easily seen by everyone. She rolled on her back and spread her legs; then she started to masturbate. The men cheered as she opened her labia wide open and flickered her finger against her large clitoris. Then she pulled her legs up so both vagina and anus were visible. She put two fingers of her right hand inside her vagina--one to tickle her G-spot and the other to reach her A-spot--and she put the index finger of her left hand deep inside her rectum. These fingers pumped in and out of both holes until she orgasmed several huge splashes right on the stage. The crowd was going wild.

When she was cleaning up the come with a damp cloth, some of the men at the tip rail asked if they could have a taste of what was being soaked up. She giggled as she finished cleaning it all up.

Then she looked out in front of the stage: Mr. Baker was standing a few feet from the front centre of the stage. She quickly threw the cloth to the side of the stage and stood up so he could see her frontal nudity in all its glory. Then she ran and jumped from the stage and rushed up to him. She threw her arms around him, and he put his hands on her hips; he felt her soft breasts rub against his chest, and she felt his erection rub against her groin. "Hi," she said with a shy giggle.

"Hi," he said, panting.

"Do you like my body?" she asked with a grin.

"Who doesn't like a goddess?" he sighed. She giggled, and they went into a private room for lap-dances.



Camilla Ch. 029



As soon as Baker sat on a couch in the private room he Camilla walked into, the naked girl sat on his lap. She put her right arm around his neck, and her left hand played with his chest hair. She was pleased with the size of his erection, which poked out in a big bulge in his pants; around six and a half to seven inches, it was quite thick, too.

"So, what goes on during these lap dances?" he asked.

"This is your first one?" she asked with surprise.

"Yeah," he said shyly. "I don't get out much."

"Oh, sir, you're in for a treat. You can put your hands anywhere you want. I'm not shy at all about that."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said. "You can put your fingers as deep inside my pussy and ass as you can reach; just be gentle, OK? My holes are perfectly clean, so you don't have to worry about your fingers being stinky or anything. Also, you can suck on my tits if you want. It's a lot of fun. I'll rub up against you, too." A new song began. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded timidly.

She slid her bottom off his left leg and onto his pointy groin. She slowly rubbed her soft buttocks on his erection, moving in circles, counter-clockwise. She moaned as she felt the tip of his hard penis pushing up against her moist vulva. She took his inhibited hands off her waist and put them on her breasts. He gave them gentle, slight squeezes. She turned her head around and looked into his eyes as she continued grinding on his groin; her eyes told him how much she liked the size and shape of his phallus. He blushed. She took his right hand from her breast and put it on her wet vulva, having him rub his index finger against her clitoris, and putting his long finger inside her vagina, to massage her G-spot. She sighed and moaned her thanks. He was panting loudly.

She got up, turned around, and pushed her breasts against his cheeks, sliding them slowly down his face as she sat on his lap again. He felt her erect nipples brushing against his cheeks. She put his hands on her buttocks, opening them wide and putting one of his fingers on her anus and guiding it to rub against the orifice in circles. Then she put her hand on his erection and fondled it. This got him particularly excited; he was getting closer and closer to orgasm. She put her face against his, her forehead and nose gently pressing against his, and she gave him pecks on the lips. The song then came to an end.

"Do you want another?" she asked.

"Let's rest for a song," he said. "I'm so excited, I'm worried I'm gonna mess my pants." Then, in his excitement, he unwittingly allowed this revelation to slip out: "That's the most intimate I've ever been with a girl."

Her eyes and mouth popped open. "You're a virgin?"

The balding, somewhat overweight 43-year-old nodded in embarrassment, looking down at his lap.

"You poor man," she said. "You've never had a girlfriend or anything?" Avoiding her eyes, he shook his head in shame.

"How could such a sweet man like you miss the boat like that?" she asked. "You must be so lonely."

He seemed on the verge of tears.

"Sir, as my former kindergarten teacher, you were really sweet and kind to me when I was a little girl, making me feel pretty when all the other kids used to say I was ugly; it's time I did something kind for you. I wanna make you feel desirable, something you've obviously not been made to feel. Sir, take me home and have sex with me--now. I'm not taking no for an answer. You have to make up for lost time; we have a lot of intense fucking to do. Let's go." She grabbed her purse, took his hand, and led the nervous man out of the private room.

As they walked by the stage, she saw Candice getting naked during her third song, 'Come To My Window,' by Melissa Etheridge. This was Candice's first time to strip on the stage. Camilla, still naked, wanted to be a part of this special moment. "Can you wait a minute, sir?" she asked Baker. "I wanna play with my roommate for a little while, then we'll go." She got on stage on all fours, and with a lascivious look in her eyes crawled toward naked Candice, who was on her back. The audience cheered as Camilla got on top of Candice and started sucking on her breasts. Then she slowly went down Candice's belly towards her vulva, kissing her skin all the way. The crowd went wild when Camilla started licking Candice's clitoris. Camilla then moved around so she'd be on top of Candice in a 69 position. Candice put two fingers inside Camilla's vagina, each finger stimulating Camilla's G and A-spots. Her other hand tickled Camilla's clitoris, and she licked Camilla's anus.

The men watching shouted and screamed their enthusiasm. "Yeah! Jam your fingers up her cunt!" said one.

"Lick that pretty pink pussy!" shouted another.

"She's eating her butt! That's so fuckin' hot!" said a third.

The encouragement the girls were getting only increased their own arousal, and their licking and fingering got faster and faster. Camilla pulled Candice's legs up so she'd get access to her asshole; she gave Candice a 'shocker'--she put her index and long fingers in Candice's vagina, and her pinkie deep in her rectum. Candice screamed with pleasure; she returned the favour by quickly tickling Camilla's G and A-spots, as well as by vibrating her tongue and sucking on her hard clitoris. Both girls were squealing and screaming louder and faster, and the audience was chanting "Yeah!" in rhythm to the girls' screams. Conveniently, they both came simultaneously at the end of the song. Candice squealed and put her head back during her orgasm, and Camilla gushed her plentiful discharge in Candice's wide-open mouth.

"She shoots--she scores!" a man shouted.

As the girls lay there moaning and catching their breath, all the people watching--men and lesbians--got up and gave the girls an extended standing ovation. When the girls regained their breath, they got up and took a bow.

**********************

A half hour later, Camilla--having thrown on her dress before leaving Luvlee's with Baker--was now in his apartment; and her dress and shoes were on the floor by the front door before he'd even closed and locked it. The naked girl took him by the hand and led him towards where she assumed his bedroom was.

She opened a door, and found the bathroom instead. "Oh well," she said. "I need to pee anyway." She walked in and sat down on the toilet. "A lot of men like to watch me go pee-pee: do you, sir?" she asked him as her pee started pouring into the toilet water.

"Yeah, OK, sure," he said, looking down between her wide-open legs to see the golden liquid paint his toilet water yellow. "Why does that act--so revolting when most people do it--look so lovely when a goddess does it?"

Giggling, she said, "That's funny--I remember a man saying something like that to me earlier today when I peed at the park. One guy I was once with wanted to watch me poo--I thought that was kinda gross, actually, but I let him watch, because I wanted to please him. He loved it: how weird!" The last few drops of urine came out, she wiped herself with some toilet paper, got up, and flushed the toilet. "Can I use your shower for a second? I wanna clean my pussy: I hate it when it smells of pee." She got in his shower stall and washed herself clean. Then she dried herself, and they went into his bedroom.

She got on his bed while he nervously pulled his pants down. He removed everything except his shirt because he didn't want her to see too much of his--as he saw it--unattractive body. He got on the bed, lay on his back, and she got on top of him in the cowgirl position.

"I just want to say now, sorry in advance if I'm not v-very good," he stammered.

"Don't worry, sir," she reassured him. "Just relax. I'll guide you through the whole thing. Now, I'm the teacher and you're the student."

He smiled his appreciation as she guided his rock-hard phallus into her moist vagina. He'd been so afraid she'd laugh at him for his lack of sexual experience, but she was so kind and understanding. After all, she, a mere month ago, knew the embarrassment of being a virgin longer than she'd wanted to be, though waiting until she was 18 to lose her virginity was nothing compared to what he had gone through.

She squealed with pleasure when his phallus went all the way in. The wetness and tightness of her vagina was such a surprising sensation for him, so different from his hand. His thrusts were clumsy at first, hurting her slightly, but in a way she liked the pain: it reminded her of her first time with Wayne. She tried to forget Wayne's passing away, however, by telling Baker to push slower and gentler; this turned pain to pure pleasure, and she could now focus on how good Baker's cock felt inside her. He fondled her breasts as she bounced up and down on him. She looked lovingly in his eyes. "Do you like it, sir?" she asked in sighs.

"Yeah," he panted, feeling her wetness soak his pubic hair. Though he was obviously enjoying the sex, she sensed in his eyes that he wasn't as thrilled as he could have been. She, on the other hand, was loving every second of their lovemaking, and every inch of his cock. She was inching closer and closer to orgasm as she felt his phallus' length and thickness massage all of her vaginal walls thoroughly: not one cavity was left unstimulated. The tip of his shaft reached her A-spot, and she splashed her come all over his lap. He, however, didn't come: he'd always relied on masturbation to climax.

Not willing to disappoint him, she got off his cock and put it in her mouth. She licked, sucked, kissed, and tickled his rod with all her skill, remembering everything Wayne had taught her when he'd let her practice on him. Though Baker remained as hard as ever, he still didn't come. He was sitting on the bed, and she was on the floor, lovingly looking up at his eyes as her head went up and down on him. Her eyes sent this message to his: "You sweet, kind man, I want to give you the greatest pleasure you've ever had--you deserve it." Using her fingers to play with his balls, she looked for signs in his eyes that he was increasing in arousal, but the climactic delight she'd hoped to provide didn't...spill over.

She took his cock out of her mouth, reached for the anal lube in her purse, and got back on the bed. She put some lube in her hands and his. With her ass pointed out at him to expose her anus, she reached back to lube his phallus as he lubed her rectum. Though she realized that her hand was giving him the greatest pleasure he'd had so far, she wanted him to experience anal: this man unjustly had had nothing for 43 years, and she wanted him to experience as much as possible this night to compensate. "This'll be lots of fun, sir; my asshole's so tight, your cock will explode. You've got to come this time." He pushed his member against her opening anus. She looked back at him with her mouth wide open as he slowly slid his dick deeper and deeper inside her rectum. She moaned with pleasure, in rhythm with his grunts; she wanted him to know how much she enjoyed anal sex, so he wouldn't be inhibited from thinking he was hurting her. He pushed his phallus all the way in and pumped for several minutes. He was surprised to feel the tight anal orifice open out into the rectum; all of this was so new, and so fascinating to him. The stimulation of her anal wall adjacent to her vaginal wall reminded her of how much pleasure she felt when his cock was in her cunt, and she was nearing orgasm again.

Though he was enjoying the anal sex, he still wouldn't orgasm. It became increasingly obvious to her, and she said, "I guess giving you a hand job is the only way."

He pulled his phallus out of her asshole, and she rolled on her back. She brought her legs up over her head and took his cock in her hand. As her hand manipulated his penis, he admired her divine duo of holes, both still wide open from their recent penetrations. Camilla realized that looking and masturbating was what had always satisfied Baker; she assumed he must have enjoyed a lot of pornography to cope with his frustrated urges. Her facial expression took on the attitude of a porn star as she allowed his eyes to study her breasts, pubic hair, vagina, and anus. This helped his growing excitement considerably, and her helping hand expertly stroked his shaft, tickling his corpus spongiosum just below the knob. As she was masturbating him, he was fingering her still very hard clitoris. Finally, he came, shooting his plentiful ejaculation far enough to get all over her breasts; and her come gushed in an arc onto his penis. They shot, they scored. As they were catching their breath, a grin of satisfaction shone on his face, mirrored by her own smile.



Camilla Ch. 030



The next morning, Camilla's mother, Collette, called her on her cell-phone, telling her to go to Collette's home to meet with her and her fiance, Troy, for lunch; Camilla was more than willing to do this, since she hoped she and sexy Troy would arrive before her mom so the 18-year-old girl could continue her slow seduction of him. As soon as she ended the phone call with her mom, Camilla took her bra and panties out of her purse (where she'd put them the night before in Luvlee's), put them on, along with her dress and high heels, and got in Mr. Baker's car. He drove her to her mother's home, arriving at about 11:30. Her 43-year-old former kindergarten teacher thanked her for ridding him of that loathsome label, 'virgin', exchanged good-byes with her, and drove away.

She went into the house. No one was there, so she sat on a chair in the living room, looking out the window and waiting for them. Soon, just as she'd hoped, Troy arrived first, without her mom. As he got out of his car and walked up to the front door, she quickly took off her dress and shoes. He rang the doorbell, and she ran up and opened the door. He looked at her in her pink skin, the breasts and buttocks of which were being caressed by her delectable white lace bra and panties. Doing his best to conceal his lust, he correctly assumed, based on this and their first meeting, that her being in various states of undress was a habit, regardless of who was with her.

"Hi Daddy," she said insouciantly, as if she were fully dressed. "Come in."

"Why are you always in your underwear?" he asked as he walked in.

"I'm hot," she said: the truth, to know her real meaning.

He closed and locked the door, in anticipation of his fiancee's imminent arrival; then he walked up to her. She threw her arms around his waist.

"It's so good to see you again, Daddy," she said. She could feel his erection pushing against her belly.

"It's good to see you, too," he sighed, squeezing her soft, round buttocks, pulling on the elastic of her panties, and snapping it against her waist. She looked up at him with completely permissive eyes, as if he were merely shaking her hand.

"Let's go sit down," she said. As they went to the living room sofa and chair, he, behind her, pulled on her bra strap and let it go. She grunted when it snapped on her back. She sat on the sofa with her legs spread wide open, and he sat on the chair, which faced her. "How's life?" she asked him with an 'innocent' face.

"Oh,...just real good," he panted, unable to take his eyes away from where her panties veiled her pussy.

Just then, they heard a key go in the lock of the door. "Quick, put your clothes on," he whispered. They got up, and he lightly spanked her behind as she went to get her dress. They heard the key turn in the lock. He stood by the door to stall Collette, and nervously looked back at Camilla. Still in her underwear, she, picking up her dress, was bent over with the ass of her panties pointing at him. She looked back at him with wide-open eyes and pursed lips, her face asking him if he liked what he saw. He, of course, did and didn't. "Hurry," he whispered urgently.

The door slowly opened. Camilla ran into the nearby washroom with her dress still in her hands. Her mom saw a bare leg before the bathroom door closed.

"Collette," he said with an obviously phony smile. "Camilla's using the bathroom: she should be out any second."

"Actually, Troy, she just went in," Collette said with slight suspicion.

"Oh, yeah," he said nervously. Camilla then came out in her dress.

"That was a quick pee, or whatever it was," Collette said. Then shaking her head, she said, "Never mind; let's go eat."

The three of them went out to a restaurant downtown. At one point during their lunch, Troy accidentally dropped his soup spoon and bent over to pick it up; while his head was under the table he noticed Camilla had lifted up her dress, exposing her panties. They were folded in slightly at the sides to display a few millimetres of the edges of her genitalia. She had her hand inside her panties, and she was tickling her clitoris. He would sporadically drop his silverware for the remainder of their lunch. Collette looked askance at him after he did it the fifth time, though she said nothing.

********************

After her lunch with her mom and stepfather-to-be, Camilla went back to Carl's Erotic Art.

When she walked in the shop, she saw Carl at the counter. He looked annoyed. "What's wrong, sir?" she asked.

"Stop calling me 'sir', Camilla," he snapped.

"Sorry, Carl. What's wrong?"

"My sister, Belle, is sick with the flu. She can't pose today, and I planned to do a lot of painting this afternoon. Fuck!"

"Is there nobody else who can pose?" she asked.

"Nobody," he said while angrily throwing a pen across the room. The tall, handsome artist's anger both scared and excited Camilla.

"How about me?" she offered, her whole body shaking at the prospect of being nude for him.

"You?" His eyes widened.

"Yeah. Why not?" She now twitched with fear of being rejected.

"You're willing to pose nude for me?" Her boldness surprised him, and her shapely body intrigued him, though he didn't want his lustful feelings to interfere with the completion of the paintings he wanted to do.

"Sure. What's wrong? Is my body not good-looking enough?"

"Oh, no problem there at all. The question is, are you too young?"

"I'm eighteen. Here, look." She showed him her birth certificate. He smiled slightly when seeing the proof.

"Okay. Are you willing to show...are you willing to, uh, pose in intimate ways?" He tried hard to hide his panting, and hoped his pants were hiding his hardness.

"Yes," she sighed with breathy enthusiasm. Her vulva was moistening with anticipation.

"To get Belle in the poses I want, she lets me touch her, to move her into the right positions. That's how I work; and because she's my sister, she trusts me, since she's the only girl whose nudity won't get me excited. I'll be professional the whole time, I promise. Are you willing to let me touch you?"

"Oh, yeah," she moaned, eagerly craving his unprofessionalism.

"I'm a little forceful."

"That's okay. You can do whatever you want with me."

They went into his studio in back of the store. "What if a customer comes in while you're painting?" she asked. "How'll you know if they're here? What if they steal one of your pictures and you don't know 'til it's too late?"

"There's a bright red light here by my easel: it tells me if a customer comes in; then I'll immediately go out and deal with them. You, however, must stay in the pose I've put you in--don't budge an inch." He sat on the chair by his easel, got his palette, and started mixing pigments. "I give Belle $50 an hour. I pay more than most people pay nude models because I paint her private areas, I touch her, moving her into position, and she has to pose for a long time without rests or moving at all. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Sure," she said while taking off her dress two feet in front of him.

"You can disrobe in the other room, if you like."

"That's okay; if you're gonna see my pussy, seeing me in my underwear's no big deal." After dropping her dress on the floor, she kicked off her high heels and removed her bra, deliberately shaking her large breasts as soon as they were revealed to Carl. He successfully retained a professional attitude as her delicious body was being bared before him, though it was getting increasingly difficult. Her heart was pounding quicker and quicker, as was his. She pulled down her panties, and as she lifted each foot out of the leg holes of the underwear, she nervously looked for approval in his eyes, which looked up and down her nude body, studying her milky skin, breasts, and pubic hair. Though he was very sexually excited, his face didn't betray his lust.

"Does my body look okay?" she asked while turning around so he could see her buttocks. She then spread her legs and bent over. "Do my pussy and asshole look okay?"

"Perfect," he said. Then suddenly he grabbed her and made her lie on a sturdy table, on her back. Camilla yelped with excitement and fear to be handled so roughly. He pulled her legs up, spread them wide open, and pushed them over her head so her vulva and anus were exposed. Will he paint me, or rape me? she wondered, preferring the latter. He stepped back and looked at her, moving her slightly so her vagina and anus were pointing in the direction he'd be looking in as he painted her. "Perfect," he said. "Don't move a millimetre." He then went over to his easel and started doing a preparatory sketch to get her proportions right. After that, he resumed mixing pigments on his palette and started painting.

The table she was on was level with his painting hand, about two and a half feet off the floor. She was only about four feet away from him, so he could see plenty of detail. After painting for half an hour, she saw him look down, focusing on painting her vulva, scrupulously noting every detail. What exactly is he painting right now? she wondered. My labia? My clitoris? My vagina? My anus? It thrilled her to know he was learning every fold, every wrinkle, every tint and shade of her secret places, now no longer secret to him. The look of concentration in the eyes of this--as she saw him--genius artist made her get more and more excited with every passing second. Though he was trying his best not to show any sexual feelings on his face, she, with her exceptional ability to read faces and correctly interpret what they were feeling and fantasizing about, could see desire in his eyes. This caused her vagina to get visibly wet. Now he was both aroused and annoyed, for the new temptation of her wet pussy was distracting him from his work.

"You're getting wet, my dear," he said. "The moisture is changing the colour tones I'm trying to paint. Wiping your vulva dry with a cloth will be easier than changing the tints and shades on the canvas." Even if not, wiping her dry will certainly be more gratifying, he thought, and I don't think she'll mind. "Is it okay if I wipe you dry?"

"Yes," she sighed. Watching him pick up a cloth and approach her to touch her cunt, however, only made her wetter. She was approaching orgasm as he, now standing in front of her, brought his hand down between her legs.

"Don't move a millimetre," he said. "Please trust me." When the cloth was millimetres away from her vagina, she gushed her orgasm all over the cloth and his hand (she'd always wondered if she could come without ever being touched). "What the fuck?!" he shouted.

"Sorry, sir--I mean, Carl," she said fearfully. "I came."

"That's obvious, sweetie. Oh, Jesus!" He said with a mixture of frustration and pleasure. He took the cloth back to the sink where he'd got it, and picked up another one. He came back and noticed a puddle of come all over the table after she'd spewed a few more times. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" He grabbed a roll of paper towels and cleaned up the come on the table; then he carefully and gently wiped off the come from her vulva. Aroused by his touch, though, she spouted a few more times as he did this, and, still cursing, he found he had to wipe particularly gently to keep her from getting more excited. His erection was now pointing out of his pants, and he tried desperately to control himself, since he really wanted simply to finish the painting, as well as several other pictures that afternoon. Finally, she was sufficiently dry, and he went back to his easel.

Just as he picked up his palette and brush, she said, "Sorry: I need to pee."

"FUCK!" he shouted as he got up to find a tin bowl by the sink. Though his anger frightened her, making her heart jump out of her chest, she thought he was terribly sexy when he lost his temper. Still, she tried not to get excited again for the sake of letting him finish the picture. He put the bowl between her legs, and her urine poured out in an arc, like the golden water of a fountain King Midas might have touched, from her urethra into the bowl, though the first of her pee had splashed on his hand as he tried to aim the bowl correctly. The tinkling of the piss hitting the tin had a sizzling sound that made a perfect soundtrack for the hot lust he--having a taste for urolagnia--was feeling as he watched the yellow fly out of her cunt. After the last few drops came out, he gently wiped her dry, and brought the bowl back to the sink to empty and wash clean. She was pleased to see his most visible, and obviously large, erection. The pleasure of posing nude now made her want to do internet porn all the more. She would have to find a photographer, and soon.

As he washed the bowl, he wondered, How I'm going to get through this day without ravishing that girl is a total mystery to me.



Camilla Ch. 031



Carl finally finished that painting of Camilla in the nude, and he told his naked model she could get up, go over, and look at his picture of her. When she went over, she deliberately got as close to him as she could get; she got between him and the picture, and after he gently caressed her buttocks, she sat on his pointy lap.

She was amazed at the precision of his painting technique: it was almost like looking at a photograph, it was so realistic. "Wow," she sighed. "You are brilliant, Carl. I really admire you." She was rubbing her buttocks against that bulging phallus in his pants. "Are my pussy and asshole really that pretty?"

"Yes, they are," he panted. "I spared no effort in giving them all the glory they deserve."

"Oh, thank you," she said, turning around and hugging him.

Suddenly, he picked up the naked girl and put her on the table on all fours. She again let out tremulous cries of fear and arousal as he forcefully handled her. Her arse was pointed towards where he'd be drawing her; he spread her legs out wide, and pulled her hips back so her vagina and anus would be in clear view.

She looked back at him over her shoulder. "No," he said. "Don't look at me; look straight ahead of you." She did. "Good: now, don't move." He went to get a sketchbook and some charcoal, and started drawing her.

An hour of careful drawing had gone by; all she knew of what he was doing was the sound of the strokes of his charcoal on the paper. She knew he wanted her, and he must have known she wanted him. Whenever he grabbed her naked body, though, it was only to put her in a pose for art. Weren't they ever going to have sex?

Because her head was turned away from him, she had no way of knowing what part of her body he was looking at, right at that moment. She heard very light, short strokes: what part of her anatomy could he have been drawing? Wisps of pubic hair? The folds of her labia? The wrinkles on her anus? Not knowing was as exciting as knowing was for her: her imagination was going wild.

She had no mirror in front of her to see his facial expression. What was he thinking? Was he still excited? Was his penis still erect? She tried to control her excitement so the drawing wouldn't be interrupted by a need to clean her come away.

Finally, he said, "OK, I'm finished. You can get up." She got off the table and walked over to him; he was now sitting on a couch. "Do you wanna see the picture?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. He held the picture to the side so both of them could see. She put her knees on the couch, one between his legs, and pushed it against his bulging crotch. "Wow, are you ever talented," she said as she looked at the drawing. "I'm in awe of your genius, sir."

"Don't call me sir," he said, patting her gently on the behind. "I need a coffee."

"I'll make you one," she offered. She got up and went to the sink, by which there were coffee mugs, a kettle, and instant coffee.

"Oh, you don't have to, sweetie," he said. "I'll make it myself."

"But I want to make it for you," she insisted. "I like doing things for you. How do you like it?"

"Double double. Do you want to put your clothes on and take a break? You must be very tired." He was hoping she would get dressed, so it would be easier for him to fight the temptation to fuck her, which would waste valuable time.

"No, I'm fine," she said as she poured water from the sink into the kettle. "I like being naked for you. I can keep posing for you until six, when I have to go to Luvlee's, where I work." She plugged the kettle in and put some Nescafe in one of the mugs.

"You're a lap-dancer?" he asked. When she nodded, he said, "Well, that explains everything about you." She giggled.

In a few minutes, the water was ready, and she made his coffee for him. She walked over to him with the mug, grinning as she gave it to him.

"Thank you," he said as he took it with one hand and patted her on the behind with the other. "You don't have to be so servile, you know." He took a sip and put the mug on a small table by the couch.

"Oh, I like to be...for you, I mean," she said as she put her knees on the couch, between his legs. She pushed them against his erection. "I like obeying you." Putting her hands on the couch on either side of him, she had her breasts just inches from his thirsty face.

"Why do you like obeying me?" he asked, smiling and looking up in her eyes.

"Because men like obedient girls, and I want to please you."

"Why? I thought girls were sick of having to obey and please men."

"I like to because I admire you; to you a woman's services are due."

"Really?" he panted.

"Oh, yes," she sighed, turned around, and sat on his lap. "I wanna look at your picture again." She reached over and picked up the drawing, rubbing her behind against his erection, as if by accident. Looking at the drawing, and looking over at the painting of her on the easel, she said, "You're so amazing, sir--I mean, Carl."

He took another sip of his coffee, trying desperately to resist temptation. The following were the thoughts going on in his head. Sure, she's beautiful; sure, she wants me, too; but I'm old enough to be her father! Besides, if I fuck her, it'll ruin our working relationship, and waste time; I want to get a lot done today. I've only done two pictures: I was hoping to do four of five. Why did Belle have to get sick? With my sister posing, I never get horny, and I get a lot more done. Camilla, you're driving me wild!

She continued giving him a free lap-dance, and he, drinking down more coffee, continued fighting his urges.

"Your penis must be huge, Carl," she said, looking back at him with wide open eyes and pursed lips.

He finished off the coffee in a quick gulp and put the mug on the table. Then he grabbed her, put her on the floor, and turned her around so she'd lie on her back. She screamed in delight and terror at his aggression.

"Are we going to do some more art?" she asked in a shaky voice. She was breathing twice as rapidly as her heart was speedily beating.

"In a way," he said as he unzipped his pants. "Art is expression, and I'm expressing myself." He pushed her legs up and opened them wide.

Her whole body was trembling with fear and excitement. Tears ran down her cheeks; her heart was pounding. She felt his phallus push, at first, against her anus. She was about to tell him about the anal lube in her purse when he realized his mistake, and aimed his large cock at her vagina. He started sliding it in. She screamed in ecstasy at its thickness.

As he continued sliding it inside her already dripping wet cunt, she screamed, "Oh, my God! Ahh!!" When the full length of his member went all the way in, leaving no nook or cranny untouched, she squealed in whistle register and showered his pubic hair and scrotum with her come. But the pumping was just beginning...

With each push he gave her, she shrieked a staccato note in whistle register and let out another squirt of come, all in rhythm to his every thrust. "This is what you wanted, isn't it, Camilla?" he asked in pants. "You wanted my big cock inside you, eh? Well, here it is!" He kept pushing it in, deeper and deeper, massaging her A-spot as no phallus had ever done before. The thickness of his shaft also ensured uninterrupted stimulation of her G-spot. She squealed and cried in alternating soprano and whistle voices, and her face was as saturated with her tears as their genital areas were with her come. The sweet tightness of her cunt was bringing him closer and closer to orgasm himself.

While they were busy pleasuring each other, neither noticed the red light flashing by the easel: a customer was in the store. The visitor heard the high-pitched squeals coming from the back, and he found the voice familiar. Curious, he opened the door to the studio a little. He saw the naked girl receiving Carl's cock. Her body looked familiar to him in recent memory, and seeing her dress lying on the floor a few feet away reinforced his suspicions as to who she was. Finally, hearing Carl sigh, "Oh, Camilla...Camilla..." confirmed her identity. Shocked and hurt, the visitor closed the door, but continued listening.

Carl was fondling Camilla's large breasts as he continued fucking her, more and more aggressively. Her high-pitched screams of pleasure were non-stop. Lacking a condom and not wanting to get her pregnant, he pulled his soaking wet cock out her waterfall of a pussy. She took his phallus in her hand and, holding it over her stomach, played with it, shaking it and tickling it. After this brief masturbation, he ejaculated all over her stomach. Her navel was a tiny cup of his come. He got off her and lay beside her, putting his spent member back in his pants and zipping them up. They lay there for several seconds, catching their breath.

She looked at him with awe in her eyes. "Oh, my lord and my master," she sighed. "That was the hottest fuck I've ever had--easily." Now looking in his eyes earnestly and passionately, she asked, "Did I please you?" An answer of no would have terrified her.

"Of course you did," he said in loud pants.

Still with utter conviction in her eyes, she said, "You can rape me like that anytime you want, sir--I mean, Carl."

"Rape?" he said with shock. "I thought you wanted it."

"Oh, yes: I wanted nothing other than that."

"Then it wasn't rape," he said, worried that she might involve the police.

"I like using the word 'rape': it makes it sound like a hotter fuck."

"Well, 'rape' makes me feel uncomfortable. Say 'ravish' instead, okay?"

"I'll do anything you want, Carl. Really, I'll let you rape me like that again, as many times as you like, if you want. I won't resist you at all, unless resisting you would please you more. I wanna be your naked sex slave."

"Don't be silly, Camilla. And dammit all, I just wasted valuable time. It's going to be difficult for me to concentrate if my model is my lover. It's 4 PM now: let's do one more picture, then I'll pay you and you can go to Luvlee's."

"I think I love you, Carl."

"Oh, fuck!" he said in annoyance at her dramatics, and got up and went back to his easel. "Let's do a standing pose of you this time." She got up and followed him.

The visitor was crying. He'd thought that his moment in bed with her, his first time, was special; he'd thought that he was special to her. Now he realized that she talked in that fawning way to lots of men, to flatter them, just to have sex with them. Baker walked out of the store with his head hanging low.



Camilla Ch. 032



Carl finished his third and final picture of nude Camilla around a quarter to six; he paid her, and she reluctantly put her clothes on, for she had to hurry over to Luvlee's and begin stripping and lap-dancing there.

Before leaving, she said, "Remember sir--I mean, Carl--feel free to rape me again any time; I'll let you."

"Don't say 'rape', Camilla!" the artist snapped at her.

"Sorry, ravish me again any time you want," she said, shaking with fear from his bad temper, but also aroused by it. "I like it when you're forceful...I love you."

Carl took her by the hands, looked her in the eyes, and calmly said, "Camilla, you hardly even know me."

"I know enough," she said.

He gently put his hands on her cheeks and said, "You're not even close to knowing enough. You know my cock, that's all. You 'love' an idea in your head about me. I can't live up to that; no man can. Look, I expect Belle to be better by tomorrow, and I'll resume working with her--I can concentrate better with my sister posing nude, because I'm not an incestuous sicko. If she's still sick tomorrow, or if at any other time she can't pose for me, I'll call you--give me your number." She promptly searched in her purse for her name card, and he continued: "And from time to time, when I'm not busy with other things, we can fuck if you like. But I'm not committing to anyone--especially not with girls half my age."

"I'm 18, the age of consent," she said.

"That makes no difference to me," he said. "I'm not committing to anyone or anything but my art. I'm a free man, and I want to stay that way. Sorry, Camilla, but that's just the way I am."

"OK, I understand," she said with a pout. She gave him her Luvlee's card, which had her home address and phone number, and left.

*********************

Camilla walked into Luvlee's ten minutes later, and saw Candice wearing black lace underwear at the bar. Candice was looking at the Luvlee's website on the laptop there, and this gave Camilla an idea.

"Hi Candice," she said when she got next to her friend. "Can I see the computer for a second?" Camilla took off her dress as Candice turned the laptop around.

"Sure," Candice said. "What for?"

"I wanna know if I can post an ad on the Luvlee's website," Camilla explained.

"An ad? For what?"

"A photographer/movie camera guy. I wanna do porn," Camilla said while finding a page on the site where she could post such an ad.

"Why am I not surprised?" Candice asked with a smirk.

Camilla typed in the ad. This is what it said: "Luvlee's lap-dancer looking for experienced photographer/movie cameraman to make porn photo galleries and movies with her. Must have professional attitude. If interested, meet Camilla in Luvlee's; bring portfolio. Will give you one free lap-dance." She also included her cell-phone number.

Candice looked at the ad. "Cameraman? Sounds like sex discrimination," she said.

"Oh, fuck political correctness," Camilla said. "I want to flash my pussy for a guy."

"And you'll give him a free lap-dance?" Candice asked.

"Of course," Camilla said, "so I can know how big his dick is."

"Crucial in finding the best cameraman, of course," Candice said facetiously.

"Absolutely," Camilla said in all seriousness. "Then I can do POV porn with him."

A man asked Candice for a lap-dance, and she said goodbye to Camilla and went with him.

Camilla sat at the bar in her white underwear for several minutes, surfing the internet. Business was unusually slow for a Thursday evening, and Camilla was surprised at not having had anyone ask her for a lap-dance; normally the customers found her so irresistible that she always had difficulty getting a moment to rest or use the washroom. For this reason she'd often considered asking the boss to have toilets installed in the private rooms; then those with a taste for urolagnia (or coprophilia, for that manner) could enjoy watching her use the toilet between lap-dances.

After a few more minutes of boring waiting, Camilla received an even bigger surprise than the lack of business: Akemi, her Japanese-Canadian classmate, the one with lesbian feelings for her, walked into the bar!

Camilla ran up to Akemi. "Akemi! Hi!" she said in a cheerful, high-pitched voice. She threw her arms around the shy Asian, who trembled with fear and desire at Camilla's touch. "How are you? So good to see you! I never thought I'd se you in here."

"I never think I come in here, too," Akemi said. "I embarrass, but...I don't know..." She was breathing heavier and heavier, for Camilla was still hugging her close.

Correctly assuming that Akemi had learned about Camilla stripping in Luvlee's from all the usual gossips at school, and that Akemi wanted to satisfy the urges her Catholic faith made her ashamed of, grinning Camilla asked, "Would you like me to give you some lap-dances?" (She asked Akemi in a manner that made the titillating offer sound as innocent as fixing her a cup of tea.)

"Oh, well...okay," Akemi said haltingly, frightened and excited at the same time.

"OK. Just let me get my purse," Camilla said with a smile. She got her purse and dress from the bar, and she led timid Akemi into a private room.

They sat down, and Camilla, sitting on a chair opposite where Akemi was, asked, "So, are you glad we're finally graduating next week? No more of that awful school and its restrictions?"

"Yeah," Akemi said, still shaking with fear and guilt about what she was about to enjoy. "Then I go to university, in Toronto, far away from my mommy/daddy. Freedom!" She sounded almost happy saying that last word.

"I know what you mean," Camilla said. "I felt that freedom the second I moved out of my mom's house: I hate that bitch!"

"Camilla, you can't say that. Must respect your parents."

"Only when both my parents are respectable people," Camilla said, then she unclipped her bra at the sound of a new song beginning. "I guess it's time to get out of my underwear," she said.

"Oh, you don't have do that," Akemi said, scared of her desire.

"Why not?" Camilla asked, shaking her large breasts as she took off her bra. "You've already seen my naked body a million times in the change room in gym class." She pulled her panties down to her feet. "What do you see now that you haven't seen before?" She kicked off her panties and high heels.

"I don't want make you feel embarrass," Akemi said, turning her head to one side.

"Akemi, do I look embarrassed?" the now completely naked stripper asked her. "Don't be shy, sweetie. Look at my body; enjoy yourself." Camilla put her hands on Akemi's cheeks and gently moved the trembling girl's head to see Camilla's breasts, which she wiggled for her viewing pleasure. "Would you like to touch them?"

"Yeah, but..." Akemi guiltily stammered. "I don't want make you feel like sex object."

Camilla got up and sat on Akemi's lap, facing her. "Honey, I am a sex object. I like being a sex object. I like turning people on, including you." She put Akemi's hands on her breasts. "There, d'you like feeling my tits?"

"Yeah, but..." Akemi sighed, feeling the greatest pleasure she'd ever had. "I feel guilty...sin." A tear ran down her cheek from the fearful thought of what her devoutly religious parents would think if they'd seen her there.

"Sweetie, it's okay to have sexual feelings for me," Camilla reassured her with a soothing voice. Then she blew in her ear and said, "I'm flattered that you're hot for me. Really. I think it's sweet. Don't be ashamed of your feelings. It's just sex."

"But Bible say lesbian, gay...is wrong," Akemi said in tremulous moans as Camilla pushed her breasts against either side of Akemi's face.

"Akemi, I'm Catholic too, but I know the Bible is as much the word of man as it is the Word of God. Homophobia is man's prejudice, not God's law. I'm not ashamed of my body: I'm like Eve before the Fall, and that's when she still had God's grace. I believe that's how Jesus saves us, by bringing us back to that time of not judging. You shouldn't be ashamed of your feelings for me, either. Nudity is beautiful, not dirty." She put her right hand up Akemi's skirt.

"No! Don't do that!" terrified Akemi shouted between sobs, stopping Camilla's hand from getting any closer to her genitals.

"Akemi, I wanna make you feel good." Camilla's left hand gently took Akemi's hand away and she touched the moist spot on Akemi's panties with her right hand. "Lap-dancing men is easy; you just sit on their dicks and rub. But to give a lesbian pleasure, sitting on her lap won't be enough; I will tickle her between her legs--it's only fair." Camilla gently stroked the area of Akemi's underwear where her clitoris was; she squealed her appreciation. "Is that how you like to be touched?" Camilla asked.

"I don't know...I never...do that."

"You've never masturbated?" Camilla sneered her surprise as she continued tickling the sighing girl between her legs.

"No...too dirty...ah!"

"Sorry to say this, Akemi, but you and your family are really uptight. How do you satisfy your urges? You must have wet dreams regularly."

"Yeah...I do...oh!"

"Do you have wet dreams about me?" grinning Camilla asked as she kissed Akemi's cheeks.

"Yeah, always you...Only you...ah!"

"That's so sweet, Akemi. I'm flattered." She kissed Akemi on the mouth. Then with her left hand, Camilla reached for her purse and took out a box of breath mints. Not liking Akemi's bad breath (it smelled of seaweed), but not wanting to hurt the sensitive girl's feelings either, Camilla took out two mints, one for each girl, to save face. Camilla quickly chewed hers and swallowed the crunched pieces, as did Akemi. Then Camilla put her tongue in Akemi's mouth. The Japanese-Canadian girl's body shook with excitement as they continued French kissing for several seconds. Camilla's fingers roamed all over Akemi's soaking wet panties, feeling her clitoris, her hymen and her labia through the thin underwear. Akemi's clitoris was rock hard now, and there was a puddle of moisture in her panties. Her sighs and squeals were getting higher and higher pitched. Camilla didn't find the plain-looking, somewhat overweight 18-year-old Asian attractive at all, but she sensed her seemingly unfulfillable longing, and felt compassion for her; she could identify with the restrictions imposed on Akemi's freedom, since Camilla's own mother had been quite a tyrant herself. Camilla wanted to help the girl learn how to let go. Indeed, the girl was learning how to let go: now Akemi was returning Camilla's kisses with equal and even greater passion than Camilla had been kissing her. They kissed, nuzzled, and licked each other, all over their faces and necks. Camilla then brought her breasts up to Akemi's mouth, putting her right nipple into the girl's thirsty mouth. As Akemi greedily sucked, Camilla continued stimulating her clitoris, fingering faster and faster, until Akemi finally orgasmed, screaming her satisfaction. After waiting a few seconds to let Akemi catch her breath and contemplate her ecstasy, Camilla asked, "Sex is fun, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Akemi panted.

"Did I make you feel good?" Camilla asked with a sexy grin.

"Yeah," Akemi sighed with love beaming from her eyes.

"You wanna make me feel good?" Camilla asked with a sly smirk.

"Oh, yeah."

Bringing her face up close to Akemi's and pursing her lips, wide-eyed Camilla purred, "Can you eat my pussy, please?"

"I don't know how," Akemi said, getting afraid not only from guilt but also from the thought of not being able to please the goddess she was falling in love with. "I never do that before."

"I'll teach you," Camilla said, standing up and bringing her left leg over Akemi's right shoulder to reveal her vulva. Akemi, however, shyly turned her head away. "Baby, don't be shy," Camilla said. "I want you to see my pussy; everybody tells me it's really pretty-looking, and I want to please you by showing it to you. A really good artist painted and drew it today, and I found out for the first time that it really is beautiful. Please look. You have to see it to know where to put your tongue."

Akemi, shaking, slowly raised her head up to see it. It took all of her courage to look at something her mother had always told her was filthy and corrupting of Christian souls. Then she finally saw it: Camilla held her labia wide open, and Akemi just stared, her eyes and mouth agape, in awe of that uncanny doorway to where all life begins. Smiling Akemi breathed heavily; tears ran down her cheeks; she'd never seen such terrifying beauty before. That part of the anatomy may have been dirty on mere mortals, but on the pagan goddess standing before her, it was pure loveliness. Camilla, grinning, was touched by the sweet look of innocence and wonder on Akemi's face.

"Put your lips and tongue here, sweetie," Camilla said, pointing out her large clitoris. Akemi continued staring in a daze, so to bide the time Camilla said, "By the way, when we were rehearsing Hamlet, and I flashed my pussy for you, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Sorry about tha--"

At that second, Akemi passionately jumped up at Camilla's clitoris and wrapped her mouth around it. She sucked on it and licked it with an effervescence that not even Candice had ever matched. Akemi put her hands on Camilla's buttocks and squeezed them at regular intervals, while her licking and sucking went on at seemingly lightning speed. Akemi's moans and groans buzzed against Camilla's clitoris, exciting her all the more; Camilla's own moans, an octave higher, were an echo and response to those of Akemi. Camilla ran her hands through Akemi's hair, sighing and squealing with delight. Akemi was a natural talent at cunnilingus; all that repressed sexual energy, finally released! This was further proof to Camilla that women are born lickers, even when they are virgins. Camilla took Akemi's right hand, got her to point her index finger out, and fed it into her vagina, finding her G-spot and having Akemi's finger stroke her there. Camilla then opened her left buttock with her left hand, and with her right hand took Akemi's left hand, and fed her index finger inside Camilla's anus. She guided Akemi's finger to rub against the anal wall neighbouring her vaginal wall. Akemi then pushed her fingers all the way inside Camilla's vagina and rectum, reaching Camilla's A-spot. Camilla's squeals and screams got higher and higher until reaching the whistle register, and she came all over Akemi's face.

"Sorry about that," Camilla said. "I'm a gusher; Old Faithful."

"That's OK," Akemi said, licking the come off her lips and wiping it out of her eyes with a tissue. "You make me feel better than I ever feel before."

"You made me feel fantastic, too," Camilla said in loud pants.

"How much I owe you?" Akemi asked.

"Forget it," Camilla said. "That was free."

Akemi continued beaming at Camilla, who began to realize that she would soon be forced to tell the girl she didn't return the love Akemi felt for her. She decided that that heartbreak would have to happen another day; she didn't want to spoil Akemi's current ecstasy.

Meanwhile, jealous Candice could hear all the squealing in that room, and was feeling a heartbreak of her own.



Camilla Ch. 033



Candice was in a private room lap-dancing a lesbian customer. As she was rubbing her breasts against the woman's face, she tried to lessen her jealousy of Camilla's screwing around with other girls. She reminded herself that Camilla was free to have anyone she wanted, male or female. Candice didn't own her; of course, Candice already had a boyfriend, although the relationship wasn't at all serious. Still, erasing the jealousy from her mind was difficult because Candice was developing strong feelings for Camilla. The lesbian customer had given Candice a half pill of ecstasy, while taking the other half herself. This cheered Candice up to an extent, but what really made her forget her jealousy--for the night, anyway--was her decision to go to the lesbian customer's apartment when Luvlee's closed. 

When they were peaking on the ecstasy, they were sweating and tingling with pleasure. They were French kissing and fondling each other. Their nipples were as hard as rocks; Candice loved it when the lesbian pinched them. The lesbian had her jeans and underwear pulled down, and the women fingered each other's hard clitorises. Finally, Candice got up and put her wet pussy in the lesbian's face. She frantically licked Candice's clitoris and put her index and long fingers inside Candice's soaking vagina. Candice sighed and squealed at the sensation of those fingers stimulating her G- and A-spots. Finally, Candice came, right when the peaking of the ecstasy was at an end. Though she enjoyed her customer's cunnilingus, she still felt sad about Camilla. Not changing her mind about sleeping with her customer that night, Candice thought, If Camilla can cheat, so can I. The lesbian halved another ecstasy pill, and they each took a half before resuming their fingering. 

Meanwhile, after Camilla said goodbye to Akemi, she put her underwear in her purse and walked out of their private room, nude except for her black high heels. More customers had come into Luvlee's, and they smiled as they saw her walking around naked. She went into the change room in the back and found an elegant black evening dress to wear onstage, since she was going on in half an hour. The dress was low-cut to show off her cleavage, and there was a slit along each side so she could show off her legs. Remaining nude, she took the dress with her back to the bar and watched the news on the wall-mounted TV. There was a disturbing news story about Guy and Dirk, the two bisexual men she'd slept with the previous weekend, the men who tried to enslave her. They died on Wednesday in hospital from an infection and from poisoning from the corrosive bug spray she'd added to their Vaseline. 

Shaking with guilt, Camilla said to herself: "Well, I only wanted revenge. I never wanted to...I mean, I never meant to...oh, God!" She looked down, and saw her hands; she saw a thin black line along the bases of all of the lunulae of her fingernails, where the lunulae meet the skin of one's fingers. (She would later that night learn that the lunulae of her toenails also had these thin black lines on them.) This unnatural sight frightened her, adding to her unease from having unintentionally caused the deaths of Guy and Dirk. These two unsettling realizations stressed her to the point of suddenly needing to evacuate her bowels. The naked girl took her dress and purse, and rushed to the ladies room. 

When she reached the ladies room, she ran into Mr. Leroy, her French teacher, the man with a taste for coprophilia. "Camilla," he said lustfully. "Just the girl I was looking for." He put his hands on her buttocks and opened them. 

"Sorry, sir," she said. Too agitated at the time to remember to speak in her 'Dolly' persona, she nonetheless appropriately said, "I gotta poo." 

"I wish I could watch," he said, opening her anus and caressing the orifice. She then silently broke wind, and his fingers felt the breeze blow on them. "Oh, yeah!" He sniffed and relished the smell. 

At first blushing from the awkward moment, she then remembered his fetish, which was convenient for her at that time. She also remembered the impressive size of his penis from their encounter a week ago. "Oh, yeah, you like my poo. Look, I go onstage in about twenty minutes. Sit at pervert's row while I get ready, OK?"

"OK," he said. She went in the washroom, and he sat at the tip rail.

After finishing her shit, she wiped herself with ordinary toilet paper instead of her usual perfumed wet napkins, because she knew Leroy liked her natural smells. Then she went to the sink, washed her hands, and put on her make-up: dark blue eye-shadow, thick mascara, pink-red blush, and dark red lipstick. There, painted up just like a whore--just the way I like it, she thought. She did her hair up in a bun, and put on some perfume. "Pretty-smelling on the top, and stinky-smelling on the bottom--how appropriate," she said to herself. Still disturbed by the sight of those black lines on her nails, she got out some red nail polish and covered them up. Finally she put on her white bra and panties, and the black evening gown, which conveniently matched her shoes. Hearing the first song of her stage show, she left the washroom and approached the stage. 

"Let's give a big round of applause for this very sexy lady," said the DJ. "Here's...Camilla." The audience, which had grown again larger, cheered loudly for her. 

Leroy was dazzled by her beauty onstage in that dress, those high heels, and that bright, prostitute-like make-up. Even knowing all that he knew about her, it was hard for him to fathom her transformation from schoolgirl ingenue to sex goddess. The divine perfection of her curvaceous body, combined with her uncanny ability to know intuitively what a man's fantasy was, and play it like an Oscar-winning actress, made him fetish even more the apotheosized crudity of her shit, piss, and other natural smells. However disgusting those odours may be when they emanate from the bodies of mere mortals, those smells were sacred when coming from Camilla: if you didn't appreciate her earthier smells, the fault was yours, not hers. 

As she moved about provocatively to the beat of her first song, 'Marcia Baila', by Les Rita Mitsouko, she tried to forget the deaths of those two men; it was an accident, she reassured herself--completely unintentional. As for the black lines on her finger- and toenails, she'd see a doctor: surely there was a straightforward explanation for that. Encouraged by the wild cheers of the audience and the adoring eyes of Leroy, she relaxed more, removing her dress by the end of the first song. Her second song, 'Andy', was also by the 1980s French pop duo. Seeing the lecherous idolatry in Leroy's eyes, she remembered to do her ditzy 'Dolly' persona: wide-open eyes and pursed lips. At the first singing of 'cheri', her bra came off with a joyful shaking of her large breasts. Loud cheers came from all sides of the room. When the trombone solo began, she removed her panties: heavy-breathing Leroy leaned forward in gleeful anticipation of what was to be shown next. As the song faded, she took off her shoes. Her third song was 'Closer', by Nine Inch Nails. The nude girl was now crawling on the stage, with a slutty look in her eyes and an opened mouth, hungry for fellatio. That face was for all the customers except Leroy, for whom she quickly switched to her 'Dolly' face whenever she looked at him. When the song came to the lewd lyrics of the chorus, she pointed her ass at Leroy's face, one or two feet away, and opened her buttocks wide so his eyes could feast on her brown anus, which was also wide open. He held a tip in his mouth: ten dollars. She brought her behind up to his mouth, opened her buttocks, and let him put his face in between; he pressed his nose against her anus and breathed in deeply to get as much of that faeculent odour as he could. She closed her buttocks against his face and took the money in her cunt. The song ended, and she and Leroy went into a private room. 

"I was delighted, my goddess, to see you strip to French songs," Leroy said as he sat down. She then sat on his lap. "As your French teacher, I've had a good influence on you." 

"I'm glad you came," she said in her high-pitched 'Dolly' voice. "Now I can be sexy for my teacher." 

"What are you doing after you finish work tonight?"

"Nothing: you wanna fuck me?"

"Absolutely. Can I put it in your pretty anus again?"

"OK. Can you put your thing in my pussy, too, please? It's so long and thick, it will feel so good in there."

"Anything for you, goddess. Let's go to Lehar's tonight, after you finish here, my treat, OK? The restaurant's open 24 hours. Then you can eat a full meal, and...uh..."

"Poop in front of you again?" wide-eyed 'Dolly' asked as if there was nothing at all distasteful about it. 

"Is that OK?" Leroy asked with a nervous look in his eyes. 

"OK," she sang. 

A new song began, and she rubbed her buttocks against his pointy lap, which already had her vagina very moist. After several seconds of that, she stood up, with her ass in front of his face; he opened her buttocks wide and put his face between them. Eagerly breathing in the faecal odour, he pushed her buttocks against his cheeks and kissed her anus passionately, as if her pretty asshole were the lips of Rita Hayworth back in the 1940s. He also laid copious kisses all along her anal cleft, from top to bottom, and all over the insides of her buttocks. He got to know every little bump, every wrinkle, every wisp of hair, and every pore. Again, he opened her buttocks wide, and with her anus opened, he pushed his nose against the orifice to get a good sniff. Then he pushed her buttocks hard against the sides of his face again, so he could feel every millimetre of her anal cleft cushioning his whole face. He gently nibbled on her smooth, round, fleshy buttocks, inside and outside of her anal cleft, and along her gluteal sulcus. Even though he wasn't stimulating her vagina at all, her cunt was dripping wet with excitement: not only did she enjoy the anal stimulation, she was flattered by how he worshipped the dirtiest part of her body, knowing how much more divine the rest of her must have been to him. He continued nibbling at and kissing every inch of her buttocks.

"We're dancing cheek to cheek," she said with a giggle and a sigh.

"Yes, we are," he said between gentle bites. "Could you break wind for me again?"

"OK, I'll try," she said. He opened her buttocks and anus wide in lustful expectation. It took her a while to build up the gas, but after feeling his face rubbing against her wide-open anal orifice, she blew out a long, silent gust of flatulence: he felt the breeze caress his face, and he enthusiastically inhaled every atom of the faecal smell. It was a smell so fair in its foulness, because it came from divine Camilla. Then she turned around and sat on his lap, facing him. She brought her face up to his. Breathing through her mouth so she wouldn't have to smell the odour of her own shit on his face, she gently kissed his cheeks. He put his finger in her rectum. Since he was rubbing his finger against the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall, her arousal increased, and her vagina got wetter and wetter. She brushed his face with her hair. "Now you can smell my pretty side," she said, drawing his attention to her perfume. 

"To appreciate the pretty side," he added, "you have to know the crude side." He pulled his finger out of her ass and sniffed it, while also smelling her perfume. She grabbed his erection and gently squeezed it. Her admiration of its awesome size got her even more excited. He put his finger back inside her rectum, pushing it deep inside: he was hoping to get some of her shit on his finger. His other finger tickled her clitoris, and she put her left nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it hard. When he put his finger inside her vagina, she squealed in whistle register and suddenly came: fortunately, she didn't wet his pants, though the part of his chair that was between his legs was soaked. "Wow," he sighed. 

"Yeah," she panted. After taking several seconds to catch her breath, she said, "I gotta go pee-pee."

"Do it here," he said. "I have a water bottle you can piss in." He took it out of the bag he'd brought with him, drank the remaining water that was in it, and gave it to her.

She squatted over the water bottle awkwardly, and began to pee. He leaned down to watch, up close, the yellow liquid pour out of her urethra and into the bottle. She moaned with relief as she emptied her bladder, and, touching his phallus, he moaned with pleasure as he smelled the odour of her urine. When she was finished, he took a tissue from his bag and wiped her genitals dry. He put the soiled tissue back in his bag for later sniffing. He put the cap back on the bottle and put it back in his bag. "Why do you want to keep my pee-pee?" she asked. 

"I want to put it in my apartment and adore it, an offering from my goddess," he explained. Flattered, she giggled. Still bent over, he picked up her feet and sniffed them. As he'd hoped, they were somewhat smelly. Then he sucked on her toes, and licked the soles of her feet. Giggling from the tickling sensation, she tried not to jerk her feet and accidentally kick him in the face. 

"You like my feet, too?" she asked.

"I love your every natural smell," he said. Fingering her urine-smelling genitals, he said, "As I explained to you before: if one can't appreciate your fouler side, one doesn't deserve to enjoy your fairer side." He sniffed his fingers. 

"You're so sweet, sir," she said with a giggle. "Let's go to Lehar's."

"Yes, my goddess," he said. She put on her clothes, and they left. 

***********************

When they were at Lehar's, Leroy looked at and admired the beauty of the pagan goddess who was sitting across from him at their table. 

"You are so lovely, Camilla," he said as he gazed at her with adoring eyes. She looked so ravishing in that black evening gown, with her hair done up and her bright makeup. 

"Thank you, sir," she said with a giggle. Looking at her menu, she asked, "Now, what am I going to eat?"

"Good question," he said. "Please, let me choose for you. I want you to have just the right food for tonight, and lots of it. If you don't mind, when we go to my apartment, I hope the food you'll eat tonight will make you shit firm, sausage-shaped turds, like Type 3 on the Bristol Stool Chart."

"Um, OK," she said, trying to hide her disgust at the obsessive extent of his coprophilia. After their meal, they went to his apartment. 

***********************

As soon as they walked into his apartment, she started undressing, as usual not even waiting for him to close the door; he was glad to leave it open until she got completely naked. She left her clothes by the door, and took her purse with her to the bedroom. As she walked by his kitchen area, she noticed many empty bags of takeout from fast-food restaurants like McDonald's and Burger King, as well as empty plastic bottles of Coke, Sprite, and other soft drinks. He's really into junk food, she thought to herself. Even when they ate at Lehar's, he ate only steak: no vegetables, and for desert, ice cream and brownies. When they went into the bedroom, she saw on a shelf above his bed a number of DVDs. They included Salo, by Pier Paolo Pasolini, as well as a number of German Scheisse pornographic movies. 

"Oh, I see you're looking at my DVDs. My favourite is Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom. I only wish that, instead of that pretty blonde girl eating the man's shit, it had been the other way around. Then it would have been perfect."

"Oh, of course," she said, trying not to sneer. She undid her bun and let her hair down; then they went into the bathroom, for she was ready to shit. She sat on the toilet while he enthusiastically waited for the first few drops. First, she peed, then out came a few turds. She looked up at him calmly and confidently as she shat. She didn't feel the slightest embarrassment, for she knew he was thrilling to the sound of her stools as they slid out of her anus, as well as her audible breaking wind. As she continued crapping, she unzipped his pants and pulled out his huge erection--the whole reason she was willing to indulge his bizarre fetish again. "Why does my poo-poo excite you so much, sir?" 'Dolly' asked him as she stroked his penis. 

"Because when I know these private things about you, I feel that much closer to you, Goddess," he said in loud pants. 

She leaned forward and put his phallus in her mouth. As his body shook with pleasure from her sucking, kissing, and licking of his member, he leaned forward to watch her faeces slowly slide out of her asshole. It was a thrilling sight for him to see her pink, callipygian behind caressing his toilet seat as her (as he saw it) divine excrement came out. The feeling of her lips and tongue massaging his long, hard cock was the perfect accompaniment to what we was watching. She also tickled his balls, tapping them with her fingers to make them dance back and forth. At one point, she took his cock out of her mouth and put his entire scrotum in it. She sucked on it, and her tongue tickled his balls in the same way her fingers had just done. Then she took his balls out and put his massive shaft back in, deep-throating it. 

She finished her shit, but he wouldn't let her flush the toilet. He got the toilet paper, and they got in a 69 position, him wiping as she sucked. He savoured every second of thoroughly wiping away all the brown to reveal once again her beautiful asshole, just inches from his face. Then he frenziedly sniffed, kissed, and even licked her stinky anus. Worried that he would catch some disease because of her (the deaths of Guy and Dirk were still on her mind), she pulled his cock out of her mouth. "Sir, please don't lick my assho--"

Suddenly, he sprayed his copious come all over her face, much of it going right inside her mouth. She rolled off of him, and he saw her dripping wet face. She then swallowed his come so she could speak. "Beautiful," he panted. 

"Let's take a shower, OK? If you're gonna lick my asshole, I want it to be clean. I don't want you to get sick, sir," she said. They got in the shower, and cleaned each other. He was reluctant to clean her rectum or vulva; nor did he want to clean his face, since he'd had her anal cleft brushing against it. Still, she insisted on cleaning all three soiled body parts. 

After the shower, they dried each other off, and Leroy's penis was getting hard again from her gentle stroking of it with her towel. 

"OK, sir, I satisfied your desires. Now can you please satisfy mine?" she asked. "Please put your cock in my pussy: it will feel sooooo good in there."

"For you, my goddess, anything," he said, and they went into the bedroom.

He lay on the bed on his back, and she got on top of him in the cowgirl position. She aimed his phallus under her vagina and slowly fed it in. She was dripping wet with expectation! The width and length of it went in, deeper and deeper; her squeals got louder and louder. As it continued to go in deeper, she wondered if it would ever stop going in, it was so long! When the entire length of it was all the way in, she screamed in whistle register and gushed her come all over his lap; but the fucking was only beginning...

She kept on gushing more and more of her multiple orgasm as the tip of his phallus probed her A-spot, a probing more thorough and intense than any other man's cock had done yet. It felt as though it would poke right through and go into her stomach, it was so long; but there was no pain. Every side of her vaginal walls was being stimulated to the maximum. He was worried that her screams would wake up his neighbours, but he didn't want to spoil her fun, since she'd indulged his fetish, a fetish he'd never imagined a girl would be willing to indulge for him, let alone a girl as beautiful and sexy as Camilla was. 




Camilla Ch. 033



Indulging his fetish was well worth it, for this was one of the best fucks she'd had yet. Only her gang-bang in the abandoned building, and her ravishing by Carl had excited her more...but not much more! 

He enjoyed watching her breasts bounce as she went up and down on him. His hands were on her buttocks, and his fingers crept inside her anal cleft to finger her sweet anus one more time. This helped his erection, but he didn't want to ejaculate inside her, since he wasn't wearing a condom. 

"I'm gonna come," he said. "Can I pull out of you and spray it on your body?"

"OK," she said, and she pulled his cock out of her soaking wet cunt. He sat up, masturbating, and she, on her knees facing him, aimed his phallus at her breasts. She quickly jerked him off, and he spewed his come all over them. She wiggled her dripping wet breasts, giggling as the drops went on his belly and on the bed. "It's raining!" 'Dolly' said. 

After changing the sheets, they went to sleep.

About an hour later, Leroy woke up, and snuck out of the bedroom. He got a plastic zip-lock bag and a fork from the kitchen, and went into the bathroom. He fished out all of Camilla's turds from the toilet and put them in the bag. Then he went back to the kitchen and put the bag in his refrigerator, in which there was also a half-eaten pepperoni pizza, bottles of Orange Crush and Dr. Pepper, and the water bottle with Camilla's piss in it. 

He went back into the bedroom, and looked at Camilla's nude body--the blanket had fallen onto the floor. He admired her beautiful large breasts, her pubic hair, and her feet. Not wanting to wake her up, he crouched by her feet and gently kissed her toes and soles. 



Camilla Ch. 034



Leroy woke up at about a quarter to eight in the morning, to the sweet sensations of Camilla's tongue, lips, and hand on his hardening cock. "Starting the day off with a little fun?" he asked, looking down at her from the head of the bed.

"Wanna put your thing in my poo-poo hole, sir?" she asked in her ditzy 'Dolly' persona, knowing that talking like that excited him all the more.

Without even answering, he got up on his knees, and she turned around, pointing her arse at him. Her legs were spread wide open so he could see her asshole, which was already lubricated. He slowly slid his erection through her tight anal orifice; both lovers moaned in unison. Then his phallus slid further inside her rectum; by the time it was pushed all the way in, Camilla felt this amazingly pleasurable impalement--all her anal walls were being probed and stretched by Leroy's huge penis. Again, the thickness and length of his member astonished her as much as it excited her. With its largeness pumping inside her, she felt as though he'd gone halfway through her body with a most pleasing spear. She looked back at him, moaning her thanks. With her head on the bed to balance her, she fingered her hard clitoris. When he was about to come, he pulled his cock out and showered his come on her behind.

She giggled. "Ooh, that tickles," she said. "Can you eat my pussy for me, please, sir?" she asked. "I'm almost there."

He licked her vulva and put his tongue inside her wide-open anus. He fingered her G-spot and kept his mouth open to receive her come. It all spouted in his mouth; he didn't miss a drop.

Now I don't have to change my bedsheets again, he thought. "Want some breakfast?" he asked.

"What do you have?" she asked.

"Well, we could have Fruit Loops, or Count Chocula," he suggested.

"Um, no thanks," she said. "No offence, sir, but I'm a health freak. If you don't mind, I think I'm just gonna take a shower and go home."

"OK, I understand. Let's do this again some time, OK?"

"Sure," she said as she got off the bed and reached for her purse.

********************

Camilla got home at about 9 AM. She was surprised that Candice wasn't there. She must be with her boyfriend, Camilla thought. Her mother, Collette, called her and asked her to meet her at the house with Troy; the three of them would then go out to lunch again. Happy to continue with her plans to seduce her mother's fiance, Camilla changed into a light blue lace top, jean shorts, and knee-length rainbow-striped toe socks with light and dark shades of blue, as well as pink, purple, and orange. Bra-less, she wore pink panties underneath. Camilla went to her mom's home after eating breakfast.

Camilla first went up to her old bedroom and took off her jean shorts, since she wanted her step-father-to-be to see her in her pretty pink panties. Then she waited in the upstairs bathroom of Collette's house. She looked out the window, hoping to see Troy's car arrive first. She was drinking from a water bottle; increasingly desperate to urinate, but wanting Troy to see her do that, she was impatient for his arrival. After a few more minutes of dancing in discomfort, she saw his car come in the driveway. She pulled her panties down to her knees. When she heard him open the front door and walk in the house, she called, "I'm up here, in the bathroom." He rushed up the stairs, and she sat on the toilet, still holding her urine in. She'd intentionally left the door ajar, so he correctly assumed she would allow him to enter the bathroom. No sooner had he opened the door, but her piss started tinkling on the surface of the toilet water. Sitting forward and grinning in feigned embarrassment, she said, "Hi, Daddy." She giggled like a little girl. "I'm going pee-pee." She giggled again, louder.

He smiled as he looked at his beautiful step-daughter-to-be, thinking this was the loveliest urination ever. "This is the first time I've ever seen you blush from being seen undressed," he said as he walked into the bathroom to get a closer look.  

"That's 'cause I'm so stinky now," she said, giggling. She opened her legs and sat back so he could see the gold pouring from her pussy into the water.

He looked down between her legs, admired her pretty brown pubic hair, and said, "You don't need to be embarrassed, sweetie. You're so naturally beautiful, even your pee smells pretty."

"Really? Thank you, Daddy," she said with a giggle. "Where's Mommy?"

"She won't be here for another hour or so," he said with a sly smile. "We're all alone." She let out little staccato squeals as she squirted out her last few drops of pee, then she got her perfumed wet napkins out of her purse and wiped her vulva clean. As she wiped, she put the heels of her feet on the toilet seat and, with her legs wide open, pulled up on her labia with the napkins so Troy could see her genitals. "Very pretty," he said.

"What, Daddy?" she asked, as if she naively had no idea what he was admiring.

"Oh, uh, your toe socks, sweetheart," he said, his eyes never budging a millimetre from her cunt. She finished wiping and stood up, They were standing less than half a foot apart from each other. She allowed his roving eyes to ogle her half-naked body, and she looked up at him with the wide-open, naive, trustful eyes that a child would have, one that knew nothing of the taboo of nudity. She allowed her panties to drop to her feet, and she kicked them off. They hugged, him gently squeezing her soft buttocks. "I'm so glad you're not wearing any make-up, sweetie. You don't need it. You're naturally beautiful."

"Thank you, Daddy," she said as she rubbed her belly against his erection. "You're so sweet to me."

While looking over her to admire the sight of her piss in the toilet--as well as to see her bare behind--he said, "Your mom must be so proud to have such a beautiful daughter. And a smart one, too. I understand you're starting university in the fall." He was now fingering her anus.

"Yeah, I'm graduating from high school next week." She looked in his eyes, her own eyes showing no disapproval of his lecherous fingers.

Suddenly, the front door opened. "Shit!" he whispered. "She said she wouldn't be here for another hour. Hurry: put your clothes on." Collette was coming up the stairs quickly, since she'd already had reason to believe, from their last lunch, that Troy and her daughter were getting a little too affectionate with each other.

Camilla ran out of the bathroom, still half-naked; he spanked her bare bottom and admired it as she ran out and down the hall towards her old bedroom. Trying his best to look guiltless, he 'casually' walked out of the bathroom to greet Collette, who was three-quarters of the way to the top of the stairs. "Hi, honey," he said.

"Where is she?" Collette asked suspiciously.

"In the bath-bedroom," he said.

Camilla came out of her old bedroom with her jeans on, as if she'd never taken them off. "Hi, Mom," she said.

Troy breathed a soft sigh of relief and said, "OK, we can go have lunch now."

As Collette and Troy started walking down the stairs, Camilla went into the bathroom to get her purse and panties, and to flush the toilet. At the sound of the flushing, Collette immediately looked back up towards the bathroom, and saw Camilla come out, stuffing something distinctively pink into her purse. Those look like some of the underwear I bought for her three months ago, Collette thought.

**************************

After lunch, Camilla went to Carl's Erotic Art. When she was allowed to go in the back studio, she was disappointed to see Belle all healthy again and ready to pose for Carl, but she was delighted to see the lovely model in the nude. "So, you don't need me to pose, Carl?" Camilla asked. "Hi Belle."

"Hi, sweetie," grinning Belle said as she walked up to give Camilla a hug. "I understand you posed for Carl yesterday. Lovely pictures. You're 18, of legal age to pose?"

"Yeah," Camilla sighed, trembling with pleasure from Belle's touch. Sensing the nude model's receptiveness, Camilla gathered up the nerve to say, "You're really beautiful; can I kiss you?"

"I don't know: can you?" the lesbian model asked with a sly smirk. "Let's find out." Belle plunged her tongue deep inside Camilla's mouth. Moaning Camilla frantically took off her shorts and top. She briefly sucked on Belle's breasts and kissed and licked her belly as she reached down to take off her shoes and socks. When she was completely nude, squatting Camilla was about to taste Belle's vulva when Carl suddenly took his sister and had her lie on the floor on her back with her legs wide open. Then he grabbed Camilla and had her on the floor on all fours, with her wide-open mouth millimetres away from Belle's pussy.

"Don't move," he said. Then he went to his easel to start painting.

After about an hour of waiting for Carl to finish his meticulous brushstrokes and dabs, both Belle and Camilla were going crazy. He was being really cruel, bringing the girls so tantalizingly close to cunnilingus' ecstasy, yet agonizingly so far away from its gratification. Camilla could only stare at Belle's delicious labia, wet vagina, and hard clitoris, all so brown and perfect-looking. Belle had recently washed herself there, so it smelled fresh and pretty. Camilla was salivating. She didn't suffer alone, though: Belle looked down at her pretty young would-be lover, remembering how gifted a kisser and licker she'd been an hour ago. Seeing the craving in Camilla's eyes, Belle could only imagine the fire with which Camilla's flickering tongue would lap her pussy, if she'd only been allowed to.

Finally, Carl said, "OK--I'm done." Not a millisecond went by, but famished Camilla was already devouring Belle's vulva. She practically stuffed her face inside the hole, licking, sucking, kissing, and buzzing all over the region between Belle's legs. Belle, running her hands through Camilla's hair, was screaming with satisfaction. "OK, I'm so not into seeing my sister get off: you two enjoy yourselves. Besides, I have a customer." Carl left the studio and into the front.

The customer there was looking at the first painting Carl had done of Camilla. "This girl looks familiar," he said. "If she is who I think she is, you're an amazing artist. What a likeness."

"Thank you," Carl said. "Are you interested in buying the picture? I'm willing to bargain."

"OK," the customer said. "How much do you want?"

Carl said, "How about--?" He was interrupted by the clearly audible moaning and screaming from the back. Embarrassed, Carl said, "Oh, that's just a porno movie. Do you want to make an offer for the painting?"

"OK," the customer said, "Let's say--"

"Oh my God!" Belle screamed. "I'm gonna come! Ahh!" Camilla's buzzing on Belle's clitoris was almost as loud as Belle's screams.

The customer laughed. "How much you want for the porno?" He and Carl laughed. "I'll offer--"

"Ohh!" Belle came. Her sighs and moans grew slower and softer.

"Wow," Camilla shouted. "You're a gusher, too?" Camilla could be heard licking Belle's come off her lips.

The customer, smiling, looked at Carl, who blushed. "There seems to be as much talent back there as there is out here," the customer said.

The men bargained, agreed on a price, and Carl started wrapping the painting up when Belle came out front in a dress. Recognizing her from the other pictures, the customer greeted her. She said goodbye to her brother and left.

When Carl finished wrapping the picture, Camilla, still nude, poked her head out front. She saw the customer and said, "Oh, hi Mr. Williams!" Her right breast was visible to him.

"Hi Camilla," Williams said with a lecherous grin. "I thought that was you in the picture. I remember that lovely breast; you naughty girl!" She giggled. "Will you be at Luvlee's tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with another giggle. "From six to one AM."

"I'll be there," he said. "Bye." He left the store.

Carl followed Camilla back into his studio. She was bent over with her legs spread wide open to display her wet vagina and already-lubricated anus. Her head was between her legs, and she licked her lips with her mouth wide open. He looked at her in a daze, even forgetting to close the door behind him.

"Wanna rape--uh, ravish me again, sir--I mean, Carl?" she asked.

"Sounds tempting," he panted as he admired her pretty asshole.

"Which hole would you like this time? You've done my pussy--how about anal or oral this time?"

He rushed her, grabbed her, and put her on the floor on all fours. She screamed and breathed quickly and heavily as he forcefully handled her. He pulled out his already rock-hard phallus and pushed it against her anal orifice. She looked back at him so he could see the pleasure she felt in her eyes as he slid his cock deep in her ass. "Aah!" he moaned as he went all the way in.

"Oh!" she screamed. His cock was almost the same size as Leroy's, and it felt just as good, if not better.

Carl grabbed her breasts as he pumped his shaft inside her rectum. Balancing herself on the floor with her left arm, the fingers of her right hand were tickling her pussy. She was really coming to love anal sex: with the right man, it was almost as good as vaginal sex. Certainly her vaginal walls were being intensely stimulated, however indirectly, by Carl's long, thick cock. And she didn't have to indulge a shit-fetish this time.

In their excitement, they hadn't noticed the red light go on; of course, the door to the back was still open, and the lovers' moaning and screaming drowned out any noise their new visitor may have made.

Carl was pumping faster and faster, and Camilla was screaming louder and louder. "Oh, my God! Oh! Carl, your cock feels so good up my ass! Oh! Fuck my ass!" she screamed.

The customer had his digital camera out, set to video. He filmed the remainder of the ass-fuck. Carl's face wasn't seen because his back was always to the door, but Camilla's face was very clearly visible.

"Oh, Jesus, Camilla!" Carl groaned. "I'm gonna come!" He pulled his cock out. She turned around to let him spray all over her face. It happened so fast that she never saw the man who was filming them. Carl splattered his come all over her eyes.

She, too, came: she'd cupped her hand under her cunt so the come wouldn't get all over the floor. She brought her hand up to Carl. "Wanna taste?" she asked him.

He gluttonously gulped it all down, and licked the rest off her hands. She left his come on her face, thinking he'd like to see it stay there for a while. This was all very convenient for their unknown visitor, so he could finish filming and leave the store safely and anonymously.

"This is getting put online for posterity," Jim said as he walked outside.



Camilla Ch. 035



Camilla arrived at Luvlee's at about ten to six that Friday; when she got to the bar, she got naked as usual. A man with a suitcase walked up to her and asked if she was Camilla. When she nodded, he told her he was a photographer, and he opened his suitcase to show her his portfolio. She wasn't impressed with the quality of his photos, and when she gave him the free lap-dance she'd promised to all photographers in the ad she'd posted the day before, she wasn't impressed with his erect penis size, either. She was similarly disappointed with two other men who were hoping for the pornography photographer job she was offering; she would hope to find the right man on Saturday night.

She didn't get a chance to talk to Candice until around 8 PM, because they were so busy with other customers, with their stage shows, and Camilla with those three photographers. Finally, Camilla approached Candice.

"Where were you last night, sweetie?" she asked. "I didn't see you at the apartment. Were you with your boyfriend?"

"No, I was with a Luvlee's customer, a lesbian," Candice answered, looking for signs of jealousy in Camilla's eyes, a jealousy that would mirror back Candice's own jealousy over her lover Camilla's fooling around not only with men, but also with young women like Akemi. Candice was disappointed when she didn't see any jealousy in Camilla's eyes.

"Wow," Camilla said with a smile. "Good for you; Candice gets lucky with a dyke. I just fucked an artist and ate his sister's pussy. Did you have fun with the lesbian?"

"Yeah, that woman can really muff dive," Candice said, trying to hide her unhappiness about her all-too-open relationship with Camilla. "She can get drugs, too. She gave me a little bag of cocaine and half a dozen ecstasy pills. Do you want one?" 

"Sure," Camilla said, taking one. "I'll save it for later."

"I'm having a half now," Candice said. "Bye." Despondent that Camilla didn't love her the way she loved Camilla, Candice figured that an ecstasy high might help her forget the pain. She went to get some water at the bar, broke one of the pills in half, and swallowed it. As she waited for the MDMA to take effect, she thought to herself, All I am is another of her many lovers, nothing more? Though she was similarly promiscuous, Candice was willing to commit to Camilla--if only Camilla would do the same.

About a half hour later, eight teachers from their school came in: Williams, Burgess, Langella, Johnson, Knowles, Matotek, Rudolph, and Fulson! As soon as Camilla saw them, she, now wearing black high heels and pink underwear, ran over to the change room and found a white blouse and a plaid skirt to give her a school-girl look. (She wasn't so naughty as to wear her actual school uniform; she wouldn't want to shame the Catholic school she'd be graduating from next week!) She also freshened up, with dark purple eye shadow, thick black mascara, pink blush and dark red lipstick. She also put red nail polish on to hide those ominous black lines on her lunulae.

When she returned to where the customers were, only the first four teachers remained. They were sitting at the tip rail, watching a stripper beginning the third song of her show. The other four teachers had noticed Candice wearing sexy black lace underwear. Though originally they'd come to see Camilla, they were too entranced with the sight of her beautiful roommate to resist. They asked to have lap-dances from Candice, and she, now starting to feel the effects of the ecstasy, was all too willing to lead them into a private room. Candice figured that if she couldn't beat Camilla into giving up her other lovers, she'd might as well join her in living a life of excess. Camilla went over to the DJ booth and asked him to play 'Gang-banged', by Trampauline, since she was next to do her stage show. She knew that song would put Williams, Burgess, Langella, and Johnson in the mood.

Four minutes later, the song began, and Camilla went onstage. "And now, let's all give a hand for this very sexy lady," called the DJ. "Here's Camilla!" Everyone in the now-packed strip joint cheered for this most popular stripper; especially loud were the teachers' cheers. As she danced around the stage to the music, she looked right in the eyes of her teachers as she mouthed the lyrics to the song:

One or two men ain't enough;I need things a little rough.I want a wild kind of love--You know what I'm thinkin' of.

CHORUS (always sung 4 times): I wanna get gang-banged! (Camilla shook her ass in the skirt to this chorus, with the same joie de vivre as she had shown in school whenever she was near one of the teachers.)

The only way to fulfillMe is with a three-hole drill:One up north and two down south--Behind, down front, in the mouth.

CHORUS (Now she removed her skirt and shook her ass in her pink panties to the chorus. Everyone cheered, and the four teachers were screaming with lust.)

When you boys are done with me,Let your juices all flow free:Spray them all over my face--Don't let one drop be a waste.

CHORUS (She removed her blouse during the chorus, and swayed her body left and right in her pink bra and panties to more cheers from the audience.)

Put it between my bust! (She looked at Burgess as she mouthed these words.)Put it between my buns! (She looked at Johnson this time.)Put it between my thighs! (At Langella)Pump passion in my eyes!

CHORUS

Put it between my cheeks! (She looked at Williams as she mouthed these words, licking her lips.)Boys, let's all act like freaks!Put 'em in my armpits!Put it between my tits! (She looked at Burgess lewdly again.)

*********************

Meanwhile, in their private room, Candice was entertaining the other four teachers to this song. They were sitting in a circle surrounding their nude, high student. She mouthed the words to them just as Camilla did. While mouthing the line, 'Put 'em in my armpits!', she eyed Knowles lewdly. Remembering that he was merely given Camilla's armpit to fuck last time, he wasn't too thrilled at Candice's offer; he was determined to have the girl's pussy tonight. The four men fondled her body, Knowles fingering her clitoris very sensitively and getting her very wet; Matotek gently patted her on the buttocks; Rudolph felt her breasts; and Fulson, after Matotek opened her buttocks, fingered her anus. The pleasure the men were giving her, as well as the ecstasy, were helping her forget, however temporarily, how saddened she was by Camilla's trivializing of their relationship.

*********************

Camilla's second song was 'My Humps', by the Black Eyed Peas. Standing directly in front of Johnson, she dropped her panties about a minute into the song.

Johnson said, "There's that pretty tuft of pubic hair I remember so well!"

"Yeah!" Williams shouted before sipping his beer.

Having turned around to give Johnson a look from behind, she opened her buttocks and, looking back at him, mouthed one of the lewd lines from the song lyric. To her question of what was to be done with all that ass of hers, Johnson shouted his answer:"You'll see soon, baby! You'll see soon!"

She removed her bra, shook her large breasts and, looking at Burgess, mouthed another lewd line. To her question of what was to be done with all that breast of hers, drunk Burgess shouted this ad libbed answer to her: 'Gonna stick my dick between like dis', doing a horribly bad impression of a rapper. "What a hot body!"

"Yeah," Langella said. "It's such a shame she has to dance to such crass music. It's so sad when excessive sexuality degrades the arts like that."

"Who cares?" asked Williams. "Enjoy the show."

Camilla took off her shoes at the end of the song.

Her third song was, 'Fuck the Pain Away', by Peaches. Now completely naked, Camilla crawled toward Burgess with lewdness in her eyes and smile. She pushed her left breast into his face and allowed her nipple to go in his mouth, just in time for the first line of the song lyric, about tit-sucking. Johnson, sitting next to Burgess, had her ass in his face just in time for the line about checking out her behind, a pun on Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders. She opened her buttocks so he could see her chocolaty brown anus up close. She joyfully mouthed the words about staying in school, because it's the best thing to do, as she looked lewdly in the eyes of her teachers.

"Did you know this musician, Peaches, used to be a music and drama teacher in a school in Toronto?" Langella asked Williams. "Now she does this trash."

"No," Williams said. "Who gives a shit? Enjoy the show!"

When the name of the song, 'Fuck the Pain Away', was being chanted, Camilla, mouthing the words, spread her legs in front of Langella. She had her panties in her hand, and she stuffed them inside her pussy. Then she pulled them out, pulled on the elastic and fired them at Langella's face like a stone from a slingshot. They hit his face sharply; he grinned his appreciation.

*********************

When Candice heard the chanting of the song title, 'Fuck the Pain Away', over and over again, she--still high as a kite--decided to live up to the song's 'philosophy'. She figured getting a gang-bang from her four teachers might help her forget Camilla.

Enjoying Knowles's finger as it slid deep inside and out of her vagina, she asked them all, "So, you guys wanna fuck me?"

"All of us?" asked Rudolph. "RIght now?"

"Sure, why not?" she asked in sighs from receiving Knowles's finger. "I wanna get gang-banged!" she sang.

"Alright!" Knowles shouted. All four men unzipped their pants, and Candice got on the floor. Knowles was quick to get on top of her; he opened her legs, and fed his hard phallus inside her wet cunt. Candice squealed with pleasure.

Matotek put his cock in her mouth, while Rudolph and Fulson waited their turn, each of them fondling one of her breasts. Knowles was well-endowed: his seven-inch cock pushed against her A-spot and rubbed against her G-spot. He held onto her legs as he fucked her. Her lips massaged Matotek's knob, and her tongue tickled his dick-hole. She played with his balls with her left hand and fondled his ass with her right. Rudolph and Fulson pinched her breasts, and Fulson reached for her asshole, fingering the orifice.

Though her squeals were those of pleasure, and her sweaty body tingled with the delightful sensations of the ecstasy, there were tears in her eyes, and her squeals sounded like crying.

**********************

When the Peaches song ended, naked Camilla led her four teachers into the private room next to Candice's. She took a half of her ecstasy pill and drank it down with a gulp of water from her water bottle. The men sat in a circle, surrounding her as she started dancing when the next song, by Pantera, began. As she danced, the now very tipsy teachers all felt her up: Burgess pawed at her breasts, Langella fingered her vulva, Williams felt her buttocks, opening them up, and Johnson put his finger inside her anus. She giggled as they did this, excited, yet also nervous that tonight would be a repeat of the chaos of last Friday night. "Let's not get too crazy tonight, OK guys?" she asked. "Gang-bang me at Mr. Langella's home."

"Sure," Williams slurred. "But we're doing it here, too." He unzipped his pants.

"Wait," Camilla said with a trembling voice, seeing the other men unzip their pants. "The people outside will hear us."

"No, they won't," Langella said with a belch. "That heavy metal music's so loud, they won't hear a thing." They got her on all fours, and Williams's and Johnson's rock-hard cocks were ready to enter her face and ass, respectively. Camilla lubed Johnson's erection as he lubed her rectum. "What about us?" Langella asked of himself and Burgess.

"Let's not do her all at once like last time," Williams said. "That was awkward."

"Agreed," Johnson said. "Let's take turns." He pushed his cock against her asshole. "Ahh, that feels great!" he sighed as he slid deeper and deeper inside.

Camilla's moans were muted as Williams fed his cock in her mouth. Burgess and Langella sat and watched, masturbating just enough to keep themselves hard, but not allowing themselves to come. Camilla's vibrating tongue stimulated the underside of Williams's shaft, and she kissed and licked his knob. Johnson's cock was gently digging inside that tunnel of chocolate, as it were: she loved it.

**********************

Burgess, Langella, Rudolph, and Fulson weren't the only watchers of the sex going on in those private rooms: Luvlee's had bouncers whose job was to watch the goings-on in the private rooms using hidden cameras. Though the bouncers' job was to make sure things didn't get out of hand, they knew Camilla's outrageous reputation. Watching her willing involvement during the sex, it was obvious to them that she'd consented. That Candice had also willingly received Knowles's cock in her vagina, and Matotek's in her mouth, was also obvious from what the bouncers saw on their monitors. They just sat and enjoyed the simultaneous double feature.

"Man, look at those girls suck dick!" the first bouncer, Rick, said.

"Yeah," said Don, the second bouncer. "Camilla sure loves taking it in the ass."

"I know just what the guy with his cock in Camilla's mouth is feeling," said Rick.

"Really?" asked Don.

"Yeah," said Rick. "Camilla made a special deal with me: if I pay special attention to her and make sure no one rapes her or hurts her in the rooms, she'll suck my dick once a week."

"Right on!" said Don. "The new girl's sure loving that guy's cock in her pussy. This is so hot!"

"I like my job."

"So do I."

**********************

As Camilla was getting it in both ends, Langella fingered her dripping wet cunt and Burgess fondled her breasts. Camilla's fingers tickled and played with Williams's balls as he pushed his hard shaft in and out of her mouth. At times, she deep-throated it, demonstrating her excellent control of her gag reflex. She moaned with pleasure at the probing she got from Johnson's cock. Langella's tickling of her clitoris got it hard. Her labia were swollen with excitement. Also adding to the thorough lubrication of her vagina was Johnson's cock's massaging of the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. Burgess pinched her nipples, getting them erect. Her scream in whistle register was muffled by Williams's deep entry, and she came copiously al over Langella's hand. He gluttonously drank it all.

Meanwhile, both Johnson and Williams were about to come. Johnson wanted to spray all over her, so just when his arousal reached the point of no return, he pulled his cock out and showered his come all over her buttocks.

"Isn't that pretty!" Langella said.

Then it was Williams's turn to come. He ejaculated plentifully in Camilla's mouth, and she gulped it all down, not missing a single drop.

"Amazing!" Burgess said. Williams and Johnson put their spent members back in their pants and sat down. Now Burgess and Langella got ready for their turn.

**********************

The refrain 'fuck the pain away' kept ringing in Candice's mind as she felt Knowles's phallus pumping in and out of her cunt. Since Camilla's room was next to hers, Candice could hear her beloved roommate's squeals of pleasure. Though Candice was still high on MDMA (nearing the end of her peak), and nearing orgasm herself, somewhere deep in her mind, she was asking herself, Is this happiness? Sex, then just more sex? Getting high, coming down, and just getting high again? An endless train of pursuing pleasure? Though it wasn't truly satisfying, at least it kept the pain away, if only for a while.

Knowles's long, thick cock was driving her wild: as he kept pumping deep inside, she fingered her clitoris. She orgasmed. When he was nearing orgasm, he withdrew his cock and shot his come all over her stomach. Matotek blew his load in her mouth: she gulped most of it down, but some of it dribbled out the left side of her mouth. Knowles and Matotek put their penises back in their pants and sat down.

Candice, coming down from the ecstasy peak, took out the little bag of cocaine from her purse. She started chopping lines. "You guys wanna snort?"

"You have coke?" Fulson asked in amazement.

"Yeah," she said as she finished getting five lines ready to snort. "I have anal lube in my purse. Who wants anal?"

"I do, I do," said Fulson. She gave him the tube of lubricant, and he smeared some on his hard cock. Then they all snorted the cocaine. Now Rudolph and Fulson would have her. She lay on her back, with her legs up so Fulson would have access to her asshole. He lubed her rectum while Rudolph put his dick between her tits. Rudolph wrapped her breasts around his cock, and Fulson pushed his phallus against her anal orifice. "Ahh," Fulson groaned as he entered. All three of them felt like supermen on cocaine as they rocked back and forth.

***********************

Camilla wrapped her breasts around Burgess's phallus, and her wide-open legs and moist vagina received Langella's cock. She was now starting to peak on the ecstasy, her body tingling from it, and Langella's long, thick cock was giving her another kind of ecstasy. Burgess squeezed her soft, large breasts on his hard, long, thick cock, and he loved the smooth sensation of her creamy skin.

"My...pussy is...smiling," she sighed as she felt the impaling of Langella's phallus. "Thank you...Mr. Langella."

"Oh, your tits feel so good around my cock," Burgess moaned.

***********************

The bouncers were loving every second of the double sex show on their monitors, oblivious to any danger of things getting out of hand. Though Candice's face had a pained expression on her face (not from the sex, but from still thinking about Camilla), and her expression was clearly visible on the monitor, the bouncers ignored that, too. Awed by the performance of the girls, the bouncers, always touching their crotches, just sat and watched like mindless zombies in front of the TV.

***********************

Camilla's come was already dripping all over the floor, and Burgess came all over her face. "Beautiful," he said as he watched it dripping off her cheeks and nose.

Langella, about to come, pulled his cock out and rained his come all over her stomach. "Beautiful here, too," he said.

***********************

Rudolph loved the softness of Candice's breasts around his hard cock. He pinched her nipples as he slid his phallus between those smooth, creamy tits. He soon spewed his come all over her face: it sprayed in a straight line at her nose and mouth in several quick spurts.

This was Candice's first ass-fuck, and she found it surprisingly enjoyable. No pain. Fulson, about to come, pulled his cock out and sprayed his discharge all over her vulva and pubic hair. "Ohh," he said. "Incredible."

Everyone left the two rooms. Those customers who were close to the private rooms stared at the men and two naked girls, having heard all the screaming and fucking. The listeners clapped, and Camilla and Candice each took a bow. The eight teachers blushed.

After the girls washed their faces in the washrooms, they went up to their teachers with a fun idea. "We have an idea, guys," higher-than-a-kite Candice said.

"What's that?" asked Williams.

"Let's go to Langella's house," Camilla suggested. "And have an orgy there." 



Camilla Ch. 036



Before the girls left Luvlee's with their eight teachers for the orgy they were going to have, Camilla put on the school-girl outfit she'd worn during her striptease to 'Gang-banged'; and Candice found a similar-looking school-girl outfit (like Camilla's, it wasn't her actual school uniform) from the change room at the back of the strip joint. The girls each sucked on a breath mint to get rid of the smell of the men's come that had been emanating from their mouths. The girls also took more ecstasy--a half pill each. They freshened up with heavy, bright makeup, and went with their teachers to Mr. Langella's house.

They all arrived there about twenty minutes later. As soon as the girls walked into Langella's house with him, they started unbuttoning their white blouses.

"Wait," Langella said. "Let everybody come in first. We'll all get some beers, I'll put on some music in the living room and dim the lights. When everyone's settled, then start stripping."

"OK," the girls said together, and buttoned up their blouses again. Candice chopped lines of the remaining cocaine for all the men to snort. Langella got six-packs of beer from his refrigerator as the other men snorted, then he dimmed the lights and snorted his line. When all the teachers were sitting on the sofa and chairs, surrounding Camilla and Candice, who were in the middle of the living room, Langella put on a CD of Global Underground 015: Darren Emerson, Uruguay. Camilla and Candice started slowly swaying their hips to the a cappella voice of a woman singing Minnie Riperton's 'Lovin' You', which began the first track, by The Orb. Candice--still high on the cocaine, and beginning to feel the effects of the ecstasy (as was Camilla)--was getting teary-eyed as she heard the song lyrics; they were expressing her exact feelings for Camilla. The girls, whose eyes were fixed on each other's, slowly unbuttoned and removed their blouses. As they removed their plaid skirts, Camilla's eyes burned lust, while Candice's eyes shone love and longing. Candice was growing futile hopes of making Camilla return the love Candice felt only for her; when the girls were completely naked, Candice planned to jump for Camilla's clitoris and lick it as never before.

The beats of the acid house music kicked in, and the girls started shaking their asses to it. Their teachers were practically drooling with lechery as they leered at their two students dancing in pink and black lace underwear (Camilla and Candice, respectively). Candice got up close to Camilla and undid her bra; Camilla returned the favour and unhooked Candice's bra. Their teachers cheered as the bras came off and the girls' large breasts shook with their baring. It was hard for the men to decide whose breasts they preferred: Camilla's, with her larger, lighter areolae and less protruding nipples; or Candice's, whose areolae were smaller, but whose nipples were pointier and of a darker pink. Both pairs of breasts were of approximately equal size, and were equally firm--no excessive sagging. After dancing around topless for a while, the girls got up close to each other again and slowly pulled down each other's panties. The men shouted lewdly as Camilla stuffed her pink panties in her wet vagina, then pulled them out. Candice did the same with her black panties. Camilla pulled on the elastic and flung the panties like a sling-shot at Langella's face, as she had done during her strip-show at Luvlee's. Candice flung her panties at Mr. Knowles's face in the same way. The remaining men tried to hide their jealousy.

Candice's jealousy, however, was the strongest of all; and when the girls kicked off their high heels, she went up to Camilla and kissed her hard on the mouth, hoping to make her wayward lover appreciate her more.

"They're dykes!" Mr. Williams shouted. "Awesome!"

"I love you, Camilla," Candice sighed between small pecks on her lover's lips and cheeks. Then their tongues twined around each other, and their lips met.

The girls knelt on the floor as they continued French-kissing. Camilla fondled Candice's buttocks as Candice fondled Camilla's breasts. To their ogling teachers, the squatting girls looked like a mirror reflection of each other, practically twins except for three things: Camilla's blonde hair, versus Candice's red hair; Camilla's brown pubic hair, versus Candice's ginger pussy; and the nipple differences already mentioned. Camilla lay on her back while Candice's kisses made a red lipstick trail going down from Camilla's lips, to her chin, her neck, her sternum, and finally to her right breast, which Candice started sucking. Candice's right hand gently squeezed and caressed Camilla's left breast, and moaning Camilla fingered her clitoris. Amazed at what they were watching, the teachers started undressing.

Candice's red trail of kisses continued down to Camilla's navel and ultimately to her vulva. After moaning and sighing her enjoyment of Candice's cunnilingus, and running her hands in her licker's hair, Camilla moved around and under Candice so the girls would be in a sixty-nine. As Camilla licked Candice's pussy from below, Camilla put her finger inside Candice's asshole, slowly sliding it in and out. Candice moaned her thanks and buzzed and hummed on Camilla's clit. The moistness of their vaginas made their saliva seem dried up in comparison.

All eight men were now naked, with hardening cocks. The cocaine was taking effect, too. Langella got Camilla's anal lube from her purse, and Knowles got Candice's lube from her purse. After lubricating their phalluses, they got ready to lube the girls' assholes. Feeling Knowles's slimy finger slide inside her rectum, Candice pulled up Camilla's legs so Langella could do the same for her anus. Meanwhile, kneeling, Williams gently turned Candice's head to the left and, aiming his hard cock for her mouth, asked, "May I?" Candice opened wide and deep-throated him.

Candice's head was facing Williams's cock at a forty-five-degree angle from her ass, and as she took the whole length of Williams's shaft all the way in and out of her mouth, she looked back at Camilla. Candice didn't seem to notice Knowles's long, thick cock pushing against her anal orifice and entering her rectum; she was too busy seeing Camilla lewdly grin as Mr. Rudolph aimed his cock at her salivating mouth. Candice's jealousy and disappointment at seeing this made her temporarily oblivious to all other sensations, even that of the electrifying ecstasy she was peaking on. Oh, well, Candice thought, fuck the pain away.

Langella slid his dick inside Camilla's asshole; she squealed with pleasure at the entry, and sucked Rudolph's cock all the more eagerly, playing with his balls and tickling his scrotum. Mr. Burgess masturbated as he fingered Camilla's clitoris, and Mr. Matotek sucked on her left tit while handling her right one, pinching the nipple. Tingling with pleasure from peaking on the ecstasy, Camilla gushed her first of many orgasms, all over Burgess's drowning hand.

Mr. Fulson carefully put his five fingers inside Candice's cunt, then slowly got his whole fist inside. Her screams of pleasure were muffled by Williams's cock in her mouth. She wrapped her lips tightly around his shaft, and her curled tongue hugged his bulging corpus spongiosum. Though Williams was rock hard, he wouldn't come...yet.

Mr. Johnson fondled Candice's left breast while sucking on her right; his other hand was on his cock. All ten of the naked lovers continued in this crowded position, rocking back and forth, jerking their hands in or on the others' genitals or breasts, for about ten frenetic minutes. Camilla's river of come was all over Langella's living room carpet: the next morning, he would have a formidable cleaning job to do. Candice had already come several times, too, since focusing on the pleasure of sex and drugs took her mind off of uncommitted Camilla.

Finally, it was the teachers' turn to come, and they got up and circled the squatting girls for bukkake. Langella, Fulson, Matotek, and Johnson stood over Camilla; and Williams, Knowles, Burgess, and Rudolph surrounded Candice. The men all quickly and frantically jerked off. Langella was the first to splash his load: his come splatted in several spurts on Camilla's right cheek, next to the right side of her mouth, on her nose, between her eyebrows, and in her left eye. Grinning and giggling, she wiped the come out of her eye as the rest of it dripped down either side of her face. Just when her left eye was more or less clean, Fulson came, flooding her other eye and her nose. She screamed and giggled at every squirt, blowing some come out of her nostrils. Immediately after that, Matotek and Johnson ejaculated, plentifully and simultaneously. When every last squirt had come out, and all the men wiped their dick-holes on her cheeks to remove the last of the come from their cocks, Camilla's face couldn't be recognized as hers, so completely was it drenched with jizz.

While Camilla was receiving her shower of semen, so was Candice. Williams was the first to spray, shooting his come in straight lines on Candice's face and hitting her nose, upper lip and left eye in several strong squirts. Then Knowles came, getting some in her hair and left ear. Then Burgess splashed his come on her right side, drenching her cheek and lips. Finally Rudolph blew his load in her wide-open mouth: only a few drops of his ran down from her lips to her chin.

Exhausted, the men got dressed and rested on the sofa and chairs. Their excitement changed into depression as they came down from their cocaine high. Gradually getting drowsier and drowsier, they watched Camilla and Candice, who would continue making love after washing up. Eventually, the teachers would fall asleep.

Camilla was still frisky for more sex, and Candice was still hungry for Camilla's love. Camilla looked in her roommate's sad eyes as they, in the shower stall, washed the come off their faces and hair; and Camilla sensed Candice's need for loving only from her. When they finished in the washroom, the girls went back to the living room.

Candice lay on her back, and Camilla put her head between Candice's legs. As Camilla ate Candice's pussy, she could hear Candice's sighs and cries of, "Camilla, I love you...love me, only me..." Though concerned with Candice's jealousy, Camilla would deal with that problem later; right now, she just wanted to enjoy more sex. Candice ran her hands in Camilla's hair as she continued licking and sucking on Candice's clitoris. Camilla put her fingers in Candice's vagina and anus, her index finger tickling Candice's G-spot, her long finger rubbing against Candice's A-spot, and the pinkie of her other hand deep inside Candice's rectum, moving in and out. Camilla buzzed and hummed on her lover's clit, and Candice's cries grew louder and louder until she finally came. A few drops came out of her vagina, and Camilla lapped them all up.

Finally, the girls came down from their ecstasy high, and fell asleep on the living room carpet around 8 AM.



Camilla Ch. 037



Camilla had a very strange dream that morning as she lay naked on Mr. Langella's living room carpet, which was still stained with her copious come from the night before.

Camilla and her mother, Collette, were in the living room of Collette's house, in the middle of a terrible argument.

"No!" Camilla, naked, shouted. "I won't put my clothes on! I'll do whatever I want, whenever I want to!"

"I said 'put your damn clothes on'," Collette demanded. "You little slut!"

"Oh, you're a fine one to call anyone a slut," Camilla said. "You, who publicly cheated on my father when I was little, and hung around with swingers after you divorced Daddy and took him away from me!"

"You little bitch!" Collette shouted, slapping Camilla.

Collette stormed out of the house, and Camilla, shaking, went down into the basement. It was pitch black down there, even when she turned on the light. She was frightened, yet strangely excited, too, and she continued down the stairs. There was a strange presence, a power, on the basement floor. Though Camilla couldn't see anything at all, she could find the source of this power because she was drawn to it. She felt vibrations emanating from it, giving her feelings of fear and desire; those feelings grew stronger and stronger the closer she got to the source.

Finally, she found the source of that power, a small, black, egg-shaped thing that radiated a kind of 'black light', as it were. As she held it in her hand, she felt her whole body tremble with fear and sexual excitement. She dropped the 'egg', and started growing...and growing! Soon, her head hit the ceiling of the basement, but it didn't hurt, for as she grew in size, she also grew in strength. She broke through the ceiling and living room floor, then through the living room ceiling and walls, and at last, she broke out of the entire house, reducing it to rubble.

When she finished growing, she was fifty feet tall! Everyone in her neighbourhood looked up in shock and terror at the giant naked 18-year-old girl. Hating many of the people in her old neighbourhood, she went about stepping on the houses of all those hated families. At one point, she tripped and fell on a row of houses, crushing them all.

As she lay there, a 45-year-old man she'd had a crush on for years was standing by her vulva. Drooling at what he saw, he crawled into the wet hole. As he crawled about inside, he thirstily licked her G-spot, and rubbed his hands against it as if he were massaging her back. Already wet with excitement from the stimulations she got from the 'black egg', she now grew hornier...and wetter...from his excitations. He crawled deeper and deeper inside that pitch black tunnel, in search of her A-spot. As he reached around a curve to find that nook of climaxes, he was suddenly deluged with her vaginal fluids. He had nowhere to raise his head above the surface of fluid so he could breathe. Frantically trying to turn around in that narrow cavity so he could escape, the man swam aimlessly inside her aquarium of vaginal fluids, desperate for air. Before long, he breathed in the fluids and drowned in them. She stood up, and his lifeless body fell out of her cunt and hit the sidewalk. She continued walking through the neighbourhood, crushing more houses with her feet. She soon reached downtown Vancouver...or was it Vancouver?

Indeed, the city of her dream was an appropriately surreal one, at one moment looking like downtown Vancouver, at other times like Tokyo, or New York City, or Paris, or one of many other cities. Looking down, she saw terrified Japanese running away from her and screaming 'Gojira'! An American lustfully shouted 'Attack of the Fifty-Foot Camilla!' She picked him up and shoved him head first inside her pussy. She pumped this human vibrator in and out of her, while his fascinated hands felt all around her soaking vaginal walls. He at first eagerly tasted her vaginal fluids, but soon they drenched his face, and he could no longer breathe. He was desperately kicking and fighting to get free of her firm grip, his head shaking wildly and his fists hitting her vaginal walls, but this only got her more excited, and he was flooded with all the more vaginal fluid. He, too, drowned in her fluids, and she let his body fall out of her hole. The corpse struck the pavement of the road, between her feet. A French lesbian called Camilla, 'la grande Gargantua femelle'. Camilla picked her up and put her little finger up the woman's dress. Fingering the woman, Camilla got her excited at first, but she didn't know her own strength, and her strokes grew more and more aggressive; blood came out from between the woman's legs, and she died of her injury. Camilla dropped her on the concrete, too.

Camilla saw a Catholic church her mom used to take her to; the priests looked up at the naked giantess and lusted after her. She picked up one of them, one who looked like her father. She stomped on the church, and the other priests were crushed under the rubble. She shoved the priest head first inside her cunt, moving him in and out. This priest, a genuinely religious man, had no wish to do anything sexual; yet ironically his frenzied punching and shaking acted as a perfect vibrator for Camilla, even better than the American had been. She sighed and squealed with pleasure. The priest's fighting to escape got her especially excited, and she drowned him in her vaginal fluid. She let him fall out, and he hit the pavement.

Then she saw naked Candice and Mr. Leroy running up to her. Candice called out, 'Camilla, I love you...love me, only me.' Leroy, finishing a chocolate bar, called out, 'Camilla, please put me between your buns!' Ignoring Candice, Camilla picked up Leroy, and as she brought him up to her anal cleft, she unwittingly stepped on and crushed Candice. She opened her buttocks and put Leroy face first in between those soft pillows of skin. Coprophilia being Leroy's passion, he thrilled to her faecal smells as she wrapped her buttocks tightly around his body. He crawled up and down her anal cleft, pushing his face against her anal orifice and trying to crawl inside. Though to him the smell of her shit was as sweet as that of a Hershey bar, the toxicity of the odour was too powerful for him, and he died after three sniffs. She squeezed her buttocks as tightly as she could and crushed the corpse.

Next, she saw Mr. Burgess, Mr. Williams, and Mr. Johnson running up to her. 'Please put me between those beautiful tits of yours, Camilla!' Burgess shouted, and she picked him up and put him against her chest. She then closed her soft breasts around his body. He kissed the skin of her right breast as both of them gently pushed against him. He crawled up and down between her cleavage, caressing her giant goose-bumps and covering that right breast with kisses. She sighed with pleasure from those kisses, as well as from his caressing hands. At one point, he wanted to crawl out from her cleavage and reach for one of her nipples, but she had him so tightly clenched there that he couldn't get out. He tried to shout, 'Help! I'm trapped!', but he couldn't breathe, let alone make any sound. She smothered him in short order, and he died; she opened up her breasts, and his lifeless body fell and hit the concrete. Then she picked up Williams. Since she knew he liked her fellatio, she decided to treat his whole body as a phallus and put it all, face first, in her mouth. Holding his feet, she sucked on him like a lollipop, pushing him in and pulling him out. Her tongue caressed his face and torso, even tickling the erection in his pants. But he, too, drowned in her inundating saliva; instead of spitting him out and letting him fall onto the ground, she decided simply to swallow him whole. Her enzymes would soon melt his corpse into nothingness. Now it was Johnson's turn. She picked him up and brought him up against her pubic hair. She let his face and arms swim their way through all her wisps of pubic hair. He loved the feeling of that 'terrific tuft' caressing his face. Then she bent over and shoved him face first up her ass. He eagerly pushed open her anus and slid inside, wishing he had a flashlight so he could see what it looked like in there. There was no faecal odour this time, for she was perfectly clean for the purposes of this part of the dream. He felt his way around her immaculate rectum as she pushed him in and pulled him out by the legs. At one point, she shoved him in too far, and his feet went inside. He stayed a resident of her rectum until her next shit, which would come not too long in the future.

She straightened up, and saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance. As she walked towards it, she noticed dozens of Frenchmen running up to her with lust in their eyes. She squatted down so they could see her vulva up close. She could feel Johnson kissing and rubbing his hands against that anal wall of hers that neighboured her vaginal wall; this oral and manual massaging got her wetter and wetter. Those Frenchmen, whose heads were just a foot or two below her vaginal opening, gazed up at the hole in an awed daze. She spread her labia wide open so they could see better. The sight of her hard clitoris especially impressed them; some of the men touched it, patting it, kissing it, and caressing it; she got even wetter, and she screamed with pleasure. Other Frenchmen put their hands inside her vagina, reaching for her G-spot. Still other Frenchmen stared in fetishistic admiration at her urethral opening, and began rowdily chanting, 'Douche doree, douche doree! [Golden shower, golden shower!]. Suddenly, piss started pouring out in a yellow waterfall, drowning most of the men, though a few ran to safety in time. Camilla laughed. 'Elle nous tue par rire, ici a Paris!' shouted one of the survivors.

Then after getting up, Camilla saw Dirk and Guy, the men who'd tried to enslave her, and who died from the toxic chemicals she'd added to their Vaseline. They were by her feet, looking up at her pussy. Guy shouted, 'Hey! Clean up our apartment!' She bent down and breathed fire on them, burning them to a crisp.

'Oh, that burning passion,' she said. Then 'Camzilla' roared a mutant dinosaur roar, appropriate to the occasion. Also appropriate to this monster of an occasion, her hair--including her pubic hair, her fingernails and toenails, and her eyes all turned black. Her skin paled to a ghostly white. Straightening up, she now saw something else of a distinctly kaiju nature.

Her mother was approaching: she, too, was fifty feet tall! Collette must have returned to the ruins of her house and picked up the 'black egg'. 'Queen Conglette', if you will, rushed at 'Camzilla', and the two giantesses started to fight. They grabbed each other's shoulders. Collette's fingernails dug into Camilla's skin; her blood poured down on the people below, some of whom were eagerly drinking it. The people immediately died from poisoning, for the blood quickly changed colour, from red to black, as soon as they'd started drinking. Camilla tore her mother's shirt off, revealing her large breasts, which shook quickly as the giantesses fought. Camilla bit at Collette's cheek: briefly Collette's face changed to that of her father; Camilla kissed him hard on the mouth. Then, switching back, Collette kneed Camilla in the groin. Collette pulled at Camilla's hair as Camilla grabbed hold of Collette's skirt, tearing it off: both giantesses were nude now. Collette, in her forties, had the body of a 25-year-old woman for the purposes of this dream. All the men of the city, as well as many lesbians, stared in lecherous fascination at the two sexy naked giantesses. Collette pulled on Camilla's hair, making her fall on her mother. Camilla's mouth fell on her mother's left breast, with her lips wrapped around the nipple. Camilla sucked on it, and saw her mother's face briefly change into that of sighing Candice. Still thinking it was Candice, Camilla put her hand on her lover's pussy; but the face changed back into that of her mother, and Collette pushed Camilla off of her. Camilla fell back, crushing several more buildings of the city. As Camilla got up, she looked in the windows of a business firm: many well-dressed men in suits looked lustfully at her nakedness. Now standing up, Camilla looked down: she was on Wall Street. As she ran back at her mother, she ignored all the houses she was stepping on; they were of a poor neighbourhood.

She and her mother continued fighting, always kicking and throwing punches at each other. Having completely destroyed all the buildings of this composite city by either stepping on or falling on them, the giant women went into a nearby forest, stomping on trees and bushes as they fought. They came to a muddy area, and they rolled around in the mud as they hit each other. Three of Collette's ex-lovers were watching the two giant nude mud-wrestlers. Though covered in mud, their delicious silhouettes were still visible in the minutest detail--every nipple, every wisp of pubic hair clearly seen. Camilla grabbed one of the men and shoved him up her mother's cunt. 'Here, Mom,' Camilla shouted, 'Here's the man I saw you in bed with, when you were still married to Daddy! I hope he gets you off now as much as he did then!' Indeed, he did, for Collette stopped fighting to enjoy feeling the man being moved in and out of her vagina. The moistness of Collette's cunt washed away the mud between her legs, and she screamed in ecstasy. The man drowned in her moisture, and Camilla grabbed another of the men, shoving him in her mom's pussy. Again, Collette moaned with delight as her former lover swam frantically through her vaginal fluids, poking his hands against her vaginal walls and stimulating her G-spot. Camilla shoved him even deeper inside, though he tried to push his way out in desperation for air. His head turned the curve deep inside and reached Collette's A-spot. The man drowned, but Camilla kept pushing the lifeless head against her mom's A-spot; her mom came. Camilla let go of the man, and let the body get washed out of her mom's cunt and onto the muddy slope the giantesses were lying on. Then Camilla grabbed the third and last ex-lover and shoved him in Collette's mouth. 'Remember this guy, Mommy?' Camilla shouted as she force-fed him in her mother's mouth. 'When I was seven, I saw you giving him head--it was horrible to see, even for the split second that I saw it! Now you can give him head again!' She made her mother swallow the man whole. He could be heard screaming as he went down Collette's throat and into her stomach.

Camilla was getting more and more excited from all this would-be lovemaking, and she was about to come. She kicked her mother, who went flying in the air and crashing into a tree, destroying it. As Camilla saw her mother getting up, she lay on her back and lifted her legs up. Collette ran up to her, and Camilla gushed her come all over her mother's face, which had briefly changed into that of Ms. Callahan. The come was like acid, though, and, turning black, it ate at Collette's flesh, causing her to melt into oblivion.

Victorious Camilla could still feel Johnson knocking around inside her rectum, and she needed to take a shit. She found a lake and, after feeling Johnson slide through her anus, she crapped in the water, killing all the fish. Johnson was buried alive in her island of diarrhea. Now she had to look for something to wipe her ass with. She stomped out of the forest, killing what remaining vegetation there was. Returning to the city, now reduced to ruins, Camilla saw former US president George W. Bush giving a speech to world leaders at the UN. "The oil-rich nations of the Middle East are responsible for creating these Women of Mass Destruction," he said. "We must go to war with the Islamists everywhere: you're either with us, or you're with the terrorists." She tore off a wall from the UN building, bent over, and displayed her muddy anus to him.

"Look in the mirror, Dubya," she said. Then she picked him up and, after farting in his face, wiped her ass with him. "Oh, too rough," she said. Then she picked up other world leaders, past and present, like Kim Jong-Il, Robert Mugabe, Hugo Chavez, Silvio Berlusconi, Muammar Qaddafi, Than Shwe, and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. She tried each of these men out as toilet paper; not surprisingly, none of them was soft enough, either. Finally, she found a giant quilt with a design of the face of former Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney on it: when she wiped her ass with its softness, she felt a miraculous sensation in her arsehole that tingled up her spine right to her brain, stimulating her chakras.

With this pleasant feeling, she went back to the forest, or what was left of it, and lay down on the grass, killing what green remained alive. Mr. Langella ran up between her feet. "Oh, hi sir!" she said.

"Can I come in?" he asked, pointing to her vagina.

"Sure," she said, and she opened her legs and labia wide so he could crawl inside. As he crawled in, she moaned with delight at the feeling of his body bumping against her vaginal walls. He had a flashlight so he could see what it looked like in there. What he saw, the origin of all life, was so divine, so beautiful, so breathtaking, it defied description. She was getting wet, but he didn't seem to care about whether he could breathe or not, because he continued crawling around in there most enthusiastically. His back rubbed against her G-spot, and he kissed and rubbed his hands against her vaginal walls. She fingered her clitoris, which was getting harder and harder. Then he crawled deeper inside, looking for her A-spot. He curled his head around the corner and found it: his hands patted against it quickly while his bare feet rubbed against her G-spot. He was drenched in her vaginal fluid, but that didn't matter...

Camilla woke up; it was 2 PM, and everyone except Candice had left Mr. Langella's house. She felt his huge cock pumping inside her pussy: he had started fucking her while she was sleeping! She didn't mind at all; his cock was making her pussy smile. Camilla squealed and screamed with pleasure as his massive shaft pushed its way in and pulled out. He was fucking faster and faster, and her cries of ecstasy were coming out in ever faster staccato squeals, higher and higher in pitch. He kissed her as he rammed away, and she played with her tits, pinching the nipples. Finally, she came all over the carpet again, and he pulled his cock out. "Fuck!" he shouted. "I forgot about that. Now I'll have to clean the carpet all over again. Oh, well." She got up on her knees, and he, standing, brought his rock-hard cock to her face. She masturbated him with the tip of his phallus just an inch or two from her face. Soon, he came, spraying his load in powerful straight lines on her right cheek, nose, left eye, and lower lip. She giggled and screamed with delight as she happily received each squirt of her facial.

He looked down at the come-soaked face of Camilla, who giggled and wiped the come out of her left eye. She looked up at him with a wicked grin on her face and a naughty look in her eyes. "Beautiful," he said. "Just beautiful."

Candice, dressed and in the kitchen smoking a marijuana cigarette, looked jealously at her roommate.



Camilla Ch. 038



Camilla and Candice returned to their apartment around 3 PM that Saturday, after having eaten something at Mr. Langella's house; as soon as they walked through the doorway, Camilla, behind Candice, started kissing her on the neck and undoing the buttons of her blouse. Candice gently moaned as she felt those soft kisses, and she put her hand back over her shoulder to touch Camilla's blonde hair.

As Camilla pulled the blouse off of Candice, her red-headed roommate turned around and asked her, "Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you," Camilla answered, then closed and locked the front door. She undid the front button on Candice's plaid skirt and continued, "You're my best friend." Camilla pecked her on the lips.

"I don't mean like that," Candice said as she took off her bra. "I mean...the way I love you." A tear ran down her cheek.

Candice's skirt fell to the floor, and Camilla put her hands on her roommate's cheeks. "Sweetie," she said tenderly, "I love you very, very much. But I'm not in love with you." She pulled down Candice's panties and started unlacing her shoes. "I doubt if I can be in love with anyone, even Mr. Grisham or that artist, Carl, whose cock I'm currently crazy about. Sometimes I say I'm in love with someone 'cause I'm a drama queen. But my parents' divorce must have made believe being in love is all bullshit. The way my mom fucked around behind my father's back--and probably fucks around behind Troy's back even now--she taught me to be horny, not committed." Camilla took off Candice's shoes and socks.

"Maybe I could teach you to change," naked Candice said in sobs. "You could learn to commit."

"Sorry, baby, I don't think so," Camilla said as she slowly got up, kissing Candice's pubic area, her belly, and her right breast. "I'm a nymphomaniac. I think it's best to leave our relationship open. If I said I'd be only yours, I'd be lying. You don't deserve that. I'd cheat on you all the time; I can't control myself. I am desire, pure desire, a desire that makes everything I touch impure. I hope you can understand, sweetie. Let's make love: it'll make you feel better." She led Candice into the bedroom.

Candice lay on the bed, and Camilla took off her schoolgirl outfit. Now nude, Camilla got on the bed and crawled on top of her sobbing roommate, sucking on her left breast. She fingered Candice's clitoris: the sobs changed to sighs. Candice thought: what the hell, fuck the pain away. She'd got a call on her cell-phone from her boyfriend on Friday afternoon; he dumped her when he learned she'd become a stripper. This had added to her current depression, but now she tried to think differently, to ease her pain: what did she need a 'committed' relationship for, anyway? From now on, she'd get happiness from partying, doing drugs, and fucking. Speaking of which...

Camilla kissed her way down Candice's belly to her ginger pussy: she licked, sucked, hummed, and buzzed on Candice's hard clitoris while sliding her fingers in and out of her wet vagina and anus, tickling her G- and A-spots. Moaning Candice put her right nipple in her mouth and sucked on it while squeezing her left breast. She put her right foot between Camilla's legs and rubbed it gently against Camilla's pussy. Already wet, Camilla moved around so her ass would be in Candice's face; the girls were now in a sixty-nine position. Candice sucked on Camilla's clitoris and put her index and long fingers inside her dripping cunt. The moaning Camilla did from Candice's excitations vibrated against Candice's clitoris, which made her even hornier. Candice licked Camilla's pretty brown asshole, sometimes sliding her tongue inside as far as it would go. She tickled Camilla's clit with her thumb. Camilla's ass moved in circles from the intense anilingus she was receiving from Candice, and Candice's hips were grinding the same way on the bed. The moaning got higher and higher in pitch from both girls; Candice pulled her tongue out of Camilla's anus and wrapped her lips around Camilla's labia. Knowing Camilla would come soon, Candice started breathing heavily inside Camilla's vagina. Camilla's screams went up to the soprano and whistle ranges, and she came in Candice's mouth. Candice didn't let a drop escape her thirsty mouth.

******************

When the girls got to Luvlee's at five to six that evening, a photographer had been waiting for Camilla while Candice's lesbian dope connection had been waiting for her. Candice, in an elegant, tight-fitting black evening gown, sat at a table with the lesbian, Francine.

Camilla wore a light green dress with a flower pattern on it; the dress went no lower than a few inches above her knees. Delighted with how handsome 42-year-old Bob, the photographer, was, she more than willingly led him into a private room for that free lap-dance she'd promised in her ad. She was amazed when she saw his portfolio: professionally-done pictures of beautiful nude models, photos that made artistic use of light and shadow, had a superb sense of colour harmony, and had beautiful, natural scenery for backgrounds. His photo galleries had been published on such websites as Fem and Joy, MC Nudes, and Hegre Beauties. Not stopping there, Bob took out his laptop and showed Camilla samples of video he'd shot of nude models masturbating, and performing lesbian sex and fellatio. The quality and artistry of the video equalled, if not surpassed, what had so impressed her with the photos. Camilla was awed. Bob was the Carl of photography, a second sexy genius, in her estimation.

"Bob, your work is brilliant!" she said.

"Thank you," he said.

"You think you can make my body look that good?"

"I imagine so," he said.

One thing remained: what she'd learn of him, in body and personality, during the free lap-dance. Camilla and Bob could hear the DJ introducing Candice, who was going onstage to do her first floor show of the night: she began it with the song 'In Dust We Trust', by the Chemical Brothers. (This was an appropriate song for Candice, since Francine had given her more cocaine, a line of which she'd just sniffed.) Camilla gleefully removed her dress, allowed Bob to get a good look at her in her sexy pink bra and panties, then took them and her high heels off. Her hips undulated as she slowly turned around for him, so he could see her naked body from all angles.

"Do I have a nice body?" she asked with a grin.

"You're lovely," he said, wondering how much passion to show and how much to hide. Too much passion would have made him seem lecherous and unprofessional; too little perhaps would have insulted her. "I can definitely make you look good in galleries and video. I'd hardly need to change a thing."

"Thanks," she said. She bent over with her legs wide open so he could clearly see her vulva and anus. "How about now?"

"Flawless," he said. "Simply flawless."

Now, the moment of truth had arrived for Camilla. She'd got him excited: how did he measure up between the legs? As she slowly brought her ass down to sit on his lap, she prayed for no disappointment. Her suspense was as thick as she hoped his erection would be. She finally sat on his lap and rubbed her buttocks on his cock: she was very pleased, and again impressed. He had to have been at least 7 and 1/2 inches long, and he was certainly thicker than any other man she'd been with before. She moaned softly, not wanting him to know she was excited. After all, a sexual relationship with him had the danger of ruining their professional one. Sex with him, in the form of him filming POV porn with her, would come only after she'd had enough experience with him to know if she could trust him or not.

"You're allowed to touch, you know," she said as she continued pushing her buttocks hard against his pointy crotch, and enjoying how that point was pushing hard against her clitoris and vaginal opening.

"What areas are off-limits?" he asked as he put his hands on her arms.

"Absolutely nothing. Touch any part of my body that interests you." Not only was she, of course, perfectly willing to let him touch her in the naughtiest places, she also wanted to test that freedom she'd given him: would he make a pig of himself, and prove himself unprofessional?

He cupped his hands on her breasts, gently caressing them. Then he brought his right hand down slowly, touching her belly and her pubic hair. Cautiously, he inched his fingers closer and closer to her genitals, waiting for her response. As hot as she was, and as much as he wanted to let his fingers explore her every private crevice, he didn't want to anger her and lose the job. She showed no signs at all of displeasure: in fact, she especially appreciated his gentle, sensitive, and restrained touch; this was appropriately professional. Finally, he gently rubbed his finger against her clitoris, not daring to be any bolder. She accidentally let out one sigh that was just loud enough for him to hear. He sensed that he was getting her excited. Just as he was building up his courage, though, the song ended. She got up.

"Well, that's that," she said. "If you want any more lap-dances, they're $20 per song. I think you'd be a perfect photographer for me. When shall we start taking pictures of me?"

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" Bob suggested. He gave her his name card. "My address and cell-phone number are on this. Do you know how to find the place?"

She looked at the card. "Yeah, that's easy to find. I'll see you at...say...3-ish? I'll call you if I'm going to be late."

"OK, no problem," he said. Not wanting to press his luck with any more lap-dances, he said good night to her and left. She put on her underwear, walked out of the private room, and sat at the tip rail to watch the rest of Candice's floor show.

Just then, she saw Troy walking into Luvlee's. Camilla got up, ran over to her stepfather-to-be and hugged him. "Hi, Daddy!" she shouted with a big grin. His cock was hard already.

"Hi, sweetie," he said. "You told me you work here, so here I am."

"You want me to give you a lap-dance, Daddy?" she nonchalantly asked.

"Sure. Is that OK with you, my soon-to-be-stepdaughter?"

"Yeah, it's OK," she said as she brought him into a private room. "I mean, even if it wasn't OK with me, I'd still have to get naked for you, 'cause it's my job."

"That's right," Troy said as they sat down. "Mustn't disappoint the customers." A new song began, and she got up.

"Yeah," she said as she swayed her hips from side to side before his lustful eyes. "Besides, you already know what most of my body looks like, except my boobs and my butt-hole, which you'll see in a few seconds." Looking in his eyes, she then insouciantly pulled down her panties and kicked off her high heels. "You're gonna be family anyway, so it's OK if you know my intimate things." She unhooked her bra and quickly took it off, impatient to reveal her shaking breasts to him. "So, do I look good naked, Daddy?"

"You...are...lovely," he sighed as he looked up and down at her glorious frontal nudity. As much as her beauty mesmerized him, he was equally if not more amazed at how unconcerned she apparently was with her mother's fiance lusting after her nakedness. She acted as though this lap-dance was just another job, and incest and infidelity were no taboos. She turned around and opened her buttocks wide so he could see her anus. She looked back to see his reaction with her eyes and mouth agape. "That's where the poop comes out," he joked.

"Yeah," she giggled as she bent over so he could see better. "A lot of men like anal sex, so I know it pleases them to see my poo-hole."

"It sure does please," he said as he continued ogling that pretty brown prune.

"You like it, Daddy?"

"Yes, I do."

"OK, I'll let you see it longer, then." She stayed bent over for him for a few more seconds, then she sat on his large erection and rubbed her buttocks against it. She moaned in rhythm to his lustful grunts, her clitoris being as hard as his cock. "You can touch me all over, Daddy. No part of my body is out of bounds."

First he fondled her soft, large breasts, pinching the nipples. She audibly squealed with pleasure. Then he fingered her wet cunt. She looked back at him as she continued grinding on his erection; her eyes told him how impressed she was with the size of his phallus, and how much she enjoyed his gentle touch. She got up, turned around, and putting her breasts on either side of his face, squeezed them against his cheeks. Then she brushed each nipple against his nose and lips before sitting on his lap again, this time facing him. He put the index and long fingers of his right hand deep in her pussy, reaching her A-spot; he slid the index finger of his left hand deep inside her asshole, rubbing it against the anal wall next to her vaginal wall. She squealed and breathed heavily to show her thanks; her forehead and nose pressed hard against those of his face. He wore loose-fitting dress pants and boxer shorts, so this made it easy for her to wrap her fingers and thumb around his fully-erect cock while keeping it in his pants; in this way, she jerked him off.

As she played with his cock, she moaned, "So, you use this to please my mommy with?"

"Yes, I do," he sighed as he continued finger-fucking her pussy and asshole. "Who gets to play with these holes?"

"Anyone who wants them...If I like him," she sighed. "Ohh!" She squeezed his cock hard.

"Careful, sweetie," he said between grunts.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked. "Ah!"

"No, baby, just the opposite. Don't make me come. If I do, I won't be able to hide it from your mommy tonight. She'll be mad."

"OK," she said as she stood up. "Oh, Daddy...I'm almost there...I'm gonna come. Oh!"

He pulled his finger out of her anus and used the fingers of both hands to tickle and stimulate her vulva. One hand massaged her clitoris, while the other felt around her vaginal opening and stimulated her G-spot. Finally, she came all over his hands, which he cupped under her gushing just in time to catch every drop of her cooze. Then he greedily drank it all up. "I just made my stepdaughter come: I don't believe it."

"Yeah," she giggled. "Thank you, Daddy."

"I feel a little weird hearing you call me 'Daddy' right now, Camilla," he said guiltily as he got up. "I'd better go. Your mom will be wondering where I am."

"OK, goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetie." He left. She went out of the private room to pee, and then she looked for more customers to lap-dance for. On a Saturday night, there were no shortages of them.

At about 11:30 PM, Camilla went onstage wearing the flowery dress she'd come to work in. Her first song was 'Flashlight', by Parliament/Funkadelic. She walked around the stage in her black high heels, moving and shaking her ass to the beat. She would reveal her pink panties to the panting customers by either lifting up her skirt, or by twirling around so the dress--which came only three-quarters of the way down her upper legs--would fly up above her waist. The men in the audience wished they had flashlights to see inside her pussy. A third of the way into the song, a man she recognized walked up to the tip rail and sat down. He was her grade two teacher, a man she'd had a major crush on! Now he, smiling at her, was going to see her naked! Thrilled, she grinned at him and gleefully removed her dress, her eyes telling him how much she wanted to show him her body. Though he didn't recognize her, his eyes told her how much he wanted to see what she had to show.

Her second song was 'Give It Up Or Turn It Loose', by James Brown. She shook her booty in her pink underwear until the first bridge of the song, when she undid her bra. She was standing in front of him so he would be among the first to see her wiggly titties as the bra came off. She grinned as she revealed them to him, a grin he mirrored back to her. When the second bridge came, she pulled down her panties, always looking in his eyes so she could see his reaction, which was always approval. After taking the panties off, she stuffed them up her cunt and took them out when they were nice and wet. Then she pulled on the elastic while aiming her soaking underwear at his face, and flung them like a slingshot at him. They hit him on the nose and right cheek, while drops of vaginal fluid splashed all over his face. Aroused by this, he eagerly sniffed them. At the end of the song, she kicked off her high heels.

Her last song was Brian Eno's 'Baby's On Fire'. Totally nude now, Camilla crawled about the stage with lewdness in her eyes--a feigned lewdness for all the other customers, but a sincere lewdness for her former teacher. She got near him and pushed her breasts against his face. Then, always grinning, she spread her legs and brought them high over her head so he could see her vulva, those labial folds of strawberry liquorice, and her puckered, chocolatey anus. Panting, he was entranced with this girl's joyful display; her eyes and naughty smirk told him how much she was enjoying showing him her all. Not stopping there, she started masturbating in front of him. She took his glass, which was empty of the bourbon he'd been drinking, and put it between her legs. Though the other customers were annoyed and jealous at all the attention she was giving him, he and Camilla were so electrified with each other it was as if no one else was there. Her left hand fingered her large, hard clitoris while spreading wide her vaginal opening on the left; her right hand fingered her anus, opening it from the right. She studied his eyes as they studied her holes: watching him scrutinize her every fold and every wrinkle got her more excited than her hands were. She squealed and screamed audibly enough to compete with the wild loudness of the guitar solo; at one point, her screams, quickly ascending in pitch and almost perfectly synchronized with the wailing of the guitar, reached the whistle register. She gushed her come in his glass, only a small amount spilling over the outside. The song ended, and she gave him the glass. He gluttonously drank it up, licking the excess off the side.

He approached her as she, remaining naked, picked up her purse and got off the stage. "You were amazing," he said.

"Really?" she asked, giggling. "Thank you, Mr. Patterson."

"You know me?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah," she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "You used to be my grade two teacher. I had the wildest crush on you. Would you like me to give you some lap-dances?"

"Would I ever," he said. She led him to a private room, him wondering which innocent little girl she used to be when he'd taught her.



Camilla Ch. 039



Naked Camilla took Mr. Patterson into a private room for lap-dances. They sat down, facing each other and waiting for the next song to begin.

"So I taught you back when you were in grade two?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with a giggle. "I'm Camilla Mennon. Remember that name?"

"Camilla Mennon," he said, looking up and trying to remember her when she was about six or seven years old. Suddenly, an image of her, sweet, skinny, and innocent, in a pink dress with her hair in pigtails, came to mind. "Oh, now I remember: you were cute little Camilla!"

She squealed and giggled with delight, fidgeting in her chair. She said, "Oh, sir, I had such a crush on you back then. I remember one time after class, I tried to unbutton your shirt..."

"...And I quickly stopped you," he said emphatically. "You naughty girl. What if a teacher had walked in our class and seen that? I would have been in big trouble."

"Well," she said with a sexy pout, "I was curious." She leaned closer to him as the next song began. "I still am," she purred. She sat on his lap, facing him, and loosened his necktie so she could unbutton his shirt. "What does it look like in there?"

"I feel a little uneasy," he said, "having sexual thoughts about a former child student of mine."

"Why?" she asked, unbuttoning his shirt and putting her hand inside to touch his hairy chest and tickle his nipples. "I'm 18 years old now, of the age of consent."

"Well, I guess that makes it okay," he panted.

She took her hand out of his shirt, grabbed his hands, and put them on her ass. Then she said, "Feel me up. You can touch everything...even deep inside."

"Really?" he asked. "No anatomy is off-limits?"

"Nope, I'm not shy at all," she moaned from his squeezing of her buttocks. Giggling and looking lewdly in his eyes, she knew his fantasy, and acted her part accordingly. She played the slutty persona of 'Candy', the bad girl she'd acted like in front of Hanson, Pierce (when they were in the shower area of gym class), Williams, and Johnson. Her left hand pinched his right nipple while her right hand gently squeezed the erection that bulged in his pants. He fingered her anus, rotating his index finger around the puckered orifice. She pressed her forehead and nose against his, looking in his eyes lasciviously to encourage his lecherous fingers to explore further...and deeper. He gently and slowly pushed his finger inside her anus. Breathing heavily, she looked straight in his eyes with a salacious look that told him how good his finger felt in her ass. She got up and brushed her breasts against his face, her nipples tickling his lips. Then she turned around. He pulled his finger out of her asshole, and she sat on his pointy lap. As she rubbed her buttocks against his phallus, she accurately guessed his erection at about 6 1/2 inches; it was undoubtedly as thick as Grisham's. Feeling its tip rub against her wet vulva, she knew sex with Patterson would make her tingle all over with pleasure. How am I so lucky, always getting such well-endowed men? she thought. 

He cupped his hands around her breasts and gently squeezed them. Sighing from his sensitive touch, she then got up, spread her legs wide open, and bent over to give him a peek. She looked back at him upside-down from between her legs, grinning as she saw his eyes happily study each delicious wrinkle and fold on her pretty purple vulva and bronze anus, both of which were clearly and deliberately displayed, for his lip-smacking viewing pleasure. She giggled at his lustful eyes and tickled him under the chin with her finger. 

Then motioning to him with her finger to bring his face closer to her two mouthwatering holes, she, always grinning, asked, "Would you like to have a taste?"

"You'll let me?" he asked in delighted surprise.

"Sure," she said. "I love getting head."

His tongue dove inside her vagina, ravenously licking the orifice while his nose rested contentedly against her anal opening. She sighed and squealed as she fondled his erection with one hand and fingered her clit with her other. He pulled his tongue out of her cunt and licked her asshole with even greater energy. It was perfectly clean, and he opened it wide so he could slide his tongue inside. She was getting wetter and wetter, squealing at steadily ascending pitches. He put his fingers in her vagina; they explored everywhere in there, rubbing against all of her vaginal walls and stimulating her G-spot. 

************************

Rick and Don, the bouncers at Luvlee's, were enjoying the free pornographic video Camilla and Patterson were providing on the monitor screens, which were supposed to be used to make sure no customers were going too far in the private rooms. The bouncers were too hypnotized by what they saw to have much concern with excessive public indecency. 

"This is so hot!" Rick said. "I love my job!"

"Camilla had better hope Mrs. Chen doesn't find out what she's letting those guys do in there," Don said. "Or else she'll get fired."

"Who cares?" Rick said. "I won't tell if you don't. Just enjoy the show." 

************************

Now Patterson had his finger sliding deep inside Camilla's rectum while he licked her pussy. He couldn't believe this girl, who was once skinny, shy, sweet, and quick to cry when the other kids made fun of her. Now she was curvaceous, brazen, wickedly sexy, and eager to fuck when a cock was near. How quickly the girls grow up! he thought as he sucked on her clitoris. She was now screaming really high, and approaching the whistle register. With a brief buzzing on her clitoris, he made her screams reach that uncannily high pitch, and she splashed her come all over his face. 

"I don't believe it," he said as he wiped the come off his mouth and nose. "My former student, once an innocent little girl in pigtails, just gave me a facial."

Giggling and sighing her satisfaction, she asked, "Wanna take me home and fuck me, sir?"

"Who in his right mind wouldn't want to?" he asked. "Let's go."

************************

She wore her light green dress and high heels to his apartment, but got naked in the outside hall before he even got his door unlocked. Her pussy was hungry for his cock. 

As soon as he got the door open, she rushed inside. "Which way to your bedroom, sir?" she asked.

"Go straight," he said as he closed the door. "It's the last door down the hall, in the middle." He locked the door, took off his shoes, and rushed after her. 

When he got in the bedroom, she was on the bed, on all fours with her legs spread wide open and her ass pushed out so her vagina and anus were showing. Her tube of anal lube lay beside her. She looked back at him with her mouth open, licking her lips. "Which hole do you want, sir?" she asked. "My mouth, my pussy, or my butt?"

He got naked and got on the bed. In doggy-style position, he slid his already fully-erect cock into her dripping-wet pussy. She screamed several times in rising pitches as he slowly pushed his cock in deeper. When it went all the way in, the tip reached and pushed against her A-spot: she squealed in whistle register and came. 

"Already?" he panted as he continued thrusting. You are one highly-sexed girl, he thought. 

He kept fucking and she kept coming; she let out a staccato, whistle-register squeal with each poke of his phallus against her A-spot. He pushed his finger deep inside her asshole and rubbed it against the anal wall that her vaginal wall shared. His bedsheets were soaked with her jizz. Not wanting any more of a deluge of come on his bed, he pulled his cock out of her cunt. She turned around and took his phallus in her mouth. 

He lay on his back as she sucked him off. She looked lewdly in his eyes as she went up and down on his manhood. She played with his balls, tapping them with her fingers and making them dance. She wrapped her tongue around his protruding corpus spongiosum, and she deep-throated him intermittently. As he grunted and looked down at her, he was in awe of her technique, to say nothing of her masterful control of her gag reflex. "Oh...God! I'm gonna blow my load!" he moaned. She pulled his cock out, pointed it at her face, and jerked him off briefly. His come splashed on her nose, her left cheek, her lips, and in her right eye. Grinning and giggling the whole time, she screamed in delighted surprise with every squirt on her face. After the last spouting of his come, she gently brushed the tip of his cock against her cheeks, not wanting even one drop of his come not to be on her face. They sat back and slowly regained their breath. "That...was incredible," he panted. "What...a metamorphosis you...had. The last...time I...saw you, you were...a sweet, innocent child. Now, you're a...sex goddess." 

"Thank you, sir," she said with another giggle. Her grinning never stopped. "You want me to leave your come on my face?"

"Yes," he said. "You look...so pretty...that way."

"I'm glad you like it," she said as she wiped the come out of her eye. "I like being sexy for my teacher. I gotta go pee-pee. A lot o' guys like to watch me do that: you wanna?"

"Sure," he said. "I gotta pee too." He took her to the bathroom, her going in before him. "Ladies first."

"Thank you," she said as she sat on the toilet. She kept her legs wide open and leaned back so he could see. As the golden liquid poured out of her urethra and tinkled against the toilet bowl water, she looked up at him with eyes and mouth agape, as if she were an innocent child who knew nothing of the taboo of being seen peeing. He alternated between looking in her sexy eyes and looking down at the yellow line between her legs; he smiled, and she giggled. When the last of her urine came out, she squirted it out in short little spurts, and let out a little high-pitched staccato squeal with each squirt. With the last squirt and squeal, she giggled once more. "OK, I'm done." She wiped her vulva with some toilet paper and got up.

"OK, my turn," he said. "I don't want to flush the toilet just yet; your pee looks so pretty. I want my pee to mix with it: is that OK?"

"Of course," she said. "But can I hold your thing while you pee? I'd like to know what it's like to aim one of them at a toilet bowl." 

"Sure, of course," he said as she took his penis in her hand. She aimed it down at the bowl, but the first spurt of urine splashed against the side, and some of his piss sprayed outside. "Aim carefully, sweetie."

"Sorry, sir," she said with an embarrassed giggle. Then she aimed his now hardening cock better, and all of his piss went in the toilet water. He finished peeing, then he flushed the toilet. "Since we smell of pee-pee, maybe we should wash ourselves off in the shower--what do you say?"

"Sure," he said, and they went into the shower stall. They rinsed each other off with the water after soaping up each other's genitals. She also cleaned his come off her face. They got out of the shower stall and dried each other off. Patterson's cock was hard again, and Camilla went back into the bedroom for Round Two.

He followed her into the bedroom and found her on the bed, on all fours again, pushing out her behind so he could see her asshole. He got on the bed, and she handed him her anal lube. "Wanna fuck my ass, sir?" she asked.

"You're insatiable, sweetie," he said, his eyes agape at her boundless nymphomania. Nonetheless, he was thrilled at the delightful prospect of shoving his phallus inside her pretty brown asshole. 

He lubed her rectum and his cock, then he gently pushed it against her anus, teasing those lovely chocolate lips open. He pushed the knob inside, careful not to hurt her. She looked back in his eyes, her mouth widening as she enjoyed feeling his cock go in. She groaned with pleasure as he slowly slid it in deeper, always only a few millimetres at a time. Oh, the delightful tightness of her anal orifice! How those puckered anal lips sealed themselves tightly against his rock-hard member! How the width and length of his cock stimulated her rectal walls, and indirectly thus, her neighbouring vaginal wall! He pushed in, deeper and deeper: her eyes squinted, and her jaw dropped all the way down as she felt her rectum being widened. When he pushed his cock all the way in, she squealed a high pitch, very close to whistle register. He grunted and moaned as he continued pushing in and pulling out. This girl was born to give men pleasure! he thought. To think, she used this beautiful chute for crapping! Now it was all his...

As he kept pumping inside her, she used her right hand to balance herself while her left hand fingered her hard clitoris. He grabbed her breasts and squeezed them. She put her finger inside her pussy and massaged her G-spot: her squeals reached the whistle register and she came another puddle on his bed. He was approaching orgasm himself, but he didn't want to flood her rectum, so he pulled his cock out. She reached back and masturbated him briefly while he admired the wide-open hole he'd made of her anus, a hole that before seemed to blow kisses at him whenever she so generously showed it to him; now it was a hole that seemed to say, "Wow," to his amazing cock. He blew his load, sprinkling his come all over her back and buttocks. When he was finished coming, we gently wiped the tip of his sensitive, spent member against her ass, along her anal cleft and gluteal sulcus. This way, she had every drop of his jizz on her body. 

They got off the bed, and he removed the soaking bed-sheets. She helped him take them to his laundry area; he enjoyed seeing his come run down her back and off her buttocks. Though drops of it got on his floor, he didn't care: it was the prettiest filth he'd ever seen.



Camilla Ch. 040



Camilla left Patterson's home late Sunday morning and returned to her apartment around lunchtime; as soon as she walked in, she got naked. Candice wasn't home: Camilla assumed her roommate was either with Francine, getting laid and getting dope, or with her boyfriend (Camilla didn't yet know they'd broken up). Camilla took a shower.

She then went into her bedroom and looked over what clothes to wear to Bob's apartment. Underwear would be her most important choice, as she perhaps would pose in it first before taking it off as Bob took photos of her. The naked girl looked through her dresser drawers, which were filled with lace panties of various colours: white, pink, light blue and green, red, and black. She chose bright pink see-through panties that had a flowery design on them. Then she found some tight-fitting beige dress pants, a dark-brown dress shirt with a flower pattern on it, and matching high heels. After lunch and a little TV, she put those clothes on, painted her face with make-up even brighter than the average prostitute would wear--in her usual way, with red lipstick, thick mascara, rosy blush and dark blue eyeshadow--and went to Bob's home, arriving early, at about 2:45 PM. 

Bob wasn't home yet, but a man in his late 30s was waiting by his door for him to arrive. "Hi," she said to the man. "Are you waiting for Bob, too?"

"Yes, I am," he said. "I just called him. He said he'd be here in a few minutes. I'm his brother Leo, by the way." He put out his hand for her to shake.

"I'm Camilla," she said, grinning and shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you, Leo." Sensing that he was sexually interested in her, and noting that he was as handsome as his older brother, Camilla was glad she'd left the top three buttons of her shirt undone, revealing her bra-less cleavage. Knowing Leo's fantasy exactly, Camilla started doing her sexually uninhibited 'Kitty' persona, the one she'd done during her seduction of Candice and Akemi. Scratching herself between her breasts, she undid another button.

"Are you going to pose for Bob?" Leo asked, correctly assuming she was his newest nude model.

"Yes, I am," she said with a naughty smirk and a suggestive twinkle in her eye, one that hinted that she'd be more than happy to let him watch. She undid another shirt button.

"Well, okay," he said, trying to be a gentleman in spite of how much he'd have liked to watch. "I'll get what I need from him and go quickly, so you don't have to waste time waiting to start."

"No hurry," she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "Take your time." 

"So you have lots of time? You can wait?"

"Uh, no; I plan to start my photo shoot as soon as possible."

"You're posing, ahem...clothed?" He was sweating. 

"No. Nude." Her eyes widened and her lips were pursed.

"Well...uh...it's just that..." He chuckled nervously. 

"Your wife will get jealous?"

"No, I'm not married. It's just that...if I see you..."

"What of it?" 

"Well, I--I mean you may..."

"Would you like to see me naked?"

"Oh, uh..." He laughed nervously. "Well, yeah--I--I mean, if it's OK."

"Do I seem to think it's not OK?" 'Kitty' giggled. "Why are you so shy?"

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I'd like to show you my body."

"R-really?"

"Sure, why not? You seem like a nice guy." She put her fingers under his chin and lightly tickled him there. He blushed, and she giggled at his timidity. "You're so sweet." 

Bob arrived, and they all went into his studio apartment, a spacious, elegantly designed place that Camilla was instantly impressed with. Bob gave Leo a book he'd wanted to borrow. Leo said, "Bob, sh-she says it's okay if I s-stay and watch. D-do you mind?"

"If she doesn't mind, I don't," Bob said as he got his camera equipment ready. "Just don't talk to us as I'm taking pictures; it'll break our concentration."

"Okay," Leo said as he sat down on a sofa near where the pictures would be taken. Camilla walked up to him and, standing before him, undid the last of her shirt buttons. His breathing was heavy, and his erection was visibly bulging in his pants.

She pulled off her shirt with a vigorous wiggle of her breasts and, her eyes and mouth wide open, she affected a look of shock at the idea of him seeing her tits. She dropped the shirt on the floor and undid her pants' button. Then she slowly unzipped them, looking intensely in his rapt eyes. She pulled down her pants to reveal her bright pink see-through panties; she turned around and bent over to lift her feet through the pant legs, pointing her ass at his face. She kept her high heels on as she took the pants off, so it was somewhat awkward and difficult for her; her shaking ass, in those dainty panties, remained but a few centimetres from his salivating mouth for some time. 

She straightened up after removing the pants, turned around to face him again, and put her hand in the front of her panties. She breathed heavily and slightly squinted her eyes as she briefly masturbated before him. Then she pulled her panties off; he admired her pretty brown pubic hair. Holding the panties upside-down, she suddenly reached forward and put them on his head; she pulled the waistband down so they'd cover his whole face and head. She giggled as he feverishly sniffed and nibbled on them. He took them off and blushed. Then she turned around and bent over to undo and take off her high heels. She put them aside and, still bent over, spread her legs as wide apart as she could so he could see her liquorice vulva and caramel anus, both of which were only two or three inches from his face. She, smiling, looked back at him upside-down from between her legs. She stayed in this position for several seconds so he had time to take in every detail of those two lovely holes, lips that longed for kisses and licks from him. 

His eyes were popping out of his head, and his jaw dropped in amazement at the perfection of what he saw, to say nothing of the carefree attitude with which she was showing herself off to a total stranger. She giggled at his stunned facial expression and said, "I think we've lost you. You're lost in space."

"Sorry," he said, blushing again.

"Don't be; enjoy yourself. Do I look good naked?"

"You're an absolute goddess."

"Thank you," she said, then turned around and sat on a coffee table, which was in front of the sofa, and spread her legs. She softly moaned as she fingered her clitoris before his eager eyes. Then she turned around and got on the coffee table on all fours: she spread her legs and pushed her behind out so he could see her pussy and asshole. She looked back at him with lewdness in her eyes. Then she got up and sat on his lap; rubbing against his cock, she knew he was easily seven inches long, and quite thick. I'm lucky again, she thought. 

"OK, I'm ready," Bob said after securing a camera on a tripod. "Let's take some pictures."

"I've gotta pee," Camilla said. "Let's get some photos of me on the toilet. Lots of guys like that."

"Alright," Bob said, and all three of them went to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, and Bob--with another camera--stood by the door with Leo standing behind him. "For all the guys who are into urolagnia: go pee-pee, sweetheart."

"OK, here it comes," she said with a giggle, and her pee started to pour out. As he snapped his pictures of her, she looked up into the camera lens with a sexy insouciance. 

"That's it, sweetie," Bob said. "You haven't a care in the world: your pee is pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she said with an ear-to-ear grin and a giggle that he captured on film. 

Bob's snapshots carefully included both her face and the urine pouring out from between her wide-open legs. Leo watched in awe: this goddess, a living fountain showering gold from her cunt, was turning a mundane, vulgar bodily function into performance art.

"OK, now," Bob said. "Pretend someone barged into the bathroom, a stranger, and he sees you peeing." Camilla feigned shock and embarrassment, her eyes and mouth agape as she tried to cover her body. "Oh, come now, you like to be watched. Let us see everything." Camilla took her hands away and, with more grinning and giggling, showed her delight at being seen naked on the toilet. "That's it, sweetie. Nice and sexy." 

"This is fun," she said. She finished peeing, but Bob kept taking pictures as she reached for the toilet paper. "I'm all stinky now." She giggled. 

"That's okay, baby," Bob said as he continued taking pictures. "Stinky is sexy when it's you." She giggled as she wiped herself. "That's it: wipe all the pee-pee away." She happily noted bulges in the pants of both men. She herself was wet not merely from her urine, and her clit was as hard as their cocks were. She stood up and started toward the shower stall. "What'cha doing, Camilla? Let's do the rest of the shoot in the other room."

"I wanna clean my pussy," she said as she put one foot in the shower stall. "I hate it when my pussy smells of pee."

"No," Bob said. "A beautiful girl like you has perfume for pee: Chanel #1, really!"

"Really?" she said with another giggle.

"Really," Leo said. "We love the smell."

"OK, if you say so," she said with a grin. They left the bathroom and went to where the rest of the pictures would be taken. The place was all white: white walls, a white bed, and white sheets. Camilla got on the bed, and Bob got behind his tripod. Leo sat on a nearby chair, hoping neither of them would notice him touching himself between the legs. 

Bob got pictures of the nude girl in various poses. In one, she lay on her side, spreading a buttock open so her vulva and anus were showing; she looked lewdly into the camera. "Yes, Camilla, beautiful," Bob said as he took the picture. "You like showing off your yummy places, don't you, you naughty girl?" 

"Oh, if you only knew how much," she said as she looked at him with a lascivious smirk. She continued admiring the bulge in her photographer's pants, and was thrilled to be its inspiration. 

Another picture was a close-up of her bent-over ass, with her buttocks spread wide open so her chocolaty asshole was the centre of attention; her asshole was also opened up, a miniature donut, and her cunt was dripping wet, like a strawberry cookie with icing on top. "Ah, Camilla's anus," Bob said with a sigh as he took the picture. "It's not just for pooping anymore." Camilla giggled salaciously. 

There was also a picture of her by the bed, standing and bent over, with her legs spread out so her pussy and asshole were once again in plain view. Her head upside-down and between her legs, she looked at the camera with wide-open eyes and a grin. "That's it, sweetie," Bob said as he took pictures. "You have the right to be as immodest as you like, you sexy lady. Show us every beautiful part of your body with pride." She was as turned on by his remarks as she was flattered. She knew he was being genuinely lecherous, but she knew he did it for professional reasons: he had to make sure she was confident about her body, in order to get the best results from her poses. 

Another photo was a close-up of her lying on the bed on her back with her legs wide open, showing off her pink cunt and her asshole. "Oh, Camilla," Bob said as he took the pictures. "Two of the loveliest holes in the universe." She giggled and grinned at the camera. 

"This is so much fun," she said as she opened her labia wide. 

"It sure is," Bob said. "I love my job!" She giggled again. Her labia were getting swollen with excitement.

One other notable photo was of her standing in front of the bed and bent over, spreading her buttocks to show her coffee-coloured anus. Bob sang the refrain from Van Morrison's 'Brown-eyed Girl' as he took the picture. She giggled. "Sha la la la la la la la la la-la la-la," he sang. 

Yet one more picture was of her on all fours on the bed, looking back at Bob with a lewd smile, showing her pussy and asshole. "Oh, Camilla, you're so sexy," he said as he took the picture. "You were made for double-penetration."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," she said with another giggle. 

"I do it to boost your confidence," he said. "I sense you don't mind. A lot of girls would hate it, though, if I talked that way to them."

"I'm not like most girls."

"That's right," he said. "You're a sex-goddess."

"Thanks," she said. "How about doing some video now?" she asked as she got off the bed and lay down on the floor, on her back with her legs spread wide open. "I wanna masturbate till I come." Leo leaned forward in his chair in lecherous expectation. 

"You're the boss," Bob said as he got his camcorder ready. Like Leo, he was finding it difficult to refrain from showing how excited he was as Camilla was always smiling lewdly at him. It was hard for Bob to determine if her slutty facial expressions were just acting, or if she was genuinely turned on by both men. If only he'd known at that time that his best hopes were already realized! He started filming, and she started fingering herself. 

She pulled her legs up high so both her anus and vagina were clearly visible. Her thumb tickled her hard clitoris, and her index and long fingers went up her cunt; her index finger massaged her G-spot while her long finger gently poked at her A-spot. She moaned and sighed in ascending pitches as she got more and more excited. The long finger and thumb of her other hand kept her asshole wide open while her index finger was rubbing against the orifice. She continued squealing and sighing as she looked lewdly into Bob's camcorder lens. She saw a lustful smile on his face, and she mirrored his lechery back at him with a whorish grin of her own as she continued masturbating. Then she stuck her finger deep in her ass, massaging the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. Bob brought the camera closer to get a clear shot of every delicious detail as she was nearing orgasm. He got close-up shots of her pussy and asshole as she penetrated them, and he backed up a bit to include her face, with its intensely horny expression. Her screams got higher and higher, approaching whistle register. She put all the fingers of her cunt-stimulating hand inside her pussy, wildly tickling herself everywhere in there. When her whole fist got inside, she finally came, screaming in whistle register. Having quickly pulled her hand out at the beginning of the orgasm, she shot her ejaculation in a high arc; six squirts of plentiful cooze splashed onto the wooden floor. When it was all over, Bob stopped filming, and he and Leo stared at her and the soaking-wet floor, in awe of her performance, for several seconds. Bob then went over to his computer to upload the photos and video. 

She caught her breath, got up, and went over to Leo. "Did you enjoy that?" she asked. 

"Incredible," Leo said, always looking her in the eyes and never looking below, in an attempt to be a gentleman.

She put her hands on his cheeks and tilted his head down to look at her breasts and pubic hair. "Don't be shy," she said with a grin. "Enjoy yourself. I gotta pee again. Come talk to me while I pee." He followed her into the bathroom. 

"C-can I buy you dinner sometime?" he asked her as she sat down on the toilet.

"Sure," she said. "How about tonight?" The pee started sprinkling out; she kept her legs open so he could see. 

"OK," he said with a trembling voice. "Where do you want to go? Money's no object." 

"How about Lehar's at 8?" she asked while moaning her relief as she emptied her bladder in a yellow deluge.

"OK. Where shall I pick you up?" He loved watching the gold pour from her cunt. 

"How about I meet you there?" she asked in staccato squeals as she squirted her last few squirts of pee into the bowl. 

"Alright, I'll see you then," Leo said with a nervous smile. 

"It's a date," she said as she pulled toilet paper off the roll. She wiped her pussy dry, got up, and flushed the toilet. He watched the golden whirlpool pull the toilet paper down the hole. "Oh," she said with a sheepish giggle. "I'm so stinky between the legs right now. I should clean up in the shower."

"No, don't," he said. "I like the smell. You're stinky is fragrant, my goddess." He bent down, bringing his sniffing nose near her pubic hair. 

"Thank you, sweetie," she said. "You really do like my natural smells." She grinned her flattery. He straightened up, and she hugged him tightly, rubbing her belly against his hard-on.

"As much as I hate to, I have to go now," he said. "I have some work to do. See you tonight." He walked toward the front door, looking back at the naked beauty from time to time until he left. 

"See you at 8," she said as he closed the door. She and Bob looked over the pictures and video they'd just shot, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening working on the creation of her own personal porn website. 



Camilla Ch. 041



Leo drove into the Lehar's parking lot at about 7:50 PM; he saw Camilla waiting by the restaurant entrance wearing only an elegant black evening gown and matching high heels. Her dress generously showed off her bra-less cleavage, and it was so tight-fitting that one could easily see she was wearing no panties. Her face was brightly made up in the same harlot colours she'd had on during her afternoon photo session with Bob. 

Leo parked and got out of his car; as he nervously approached her, he said, "You look ravishing."

"Thank you," she said with a grin. "'Ravishing' was the idea."

They went in the restaurant, and the maitre d' found them a table by a window. As Leo perused his menu, Camilla looked up and noticed the restaurant manager eyeing her. She remembered how she'd promised to do him a sexual favour in return for him allowing her to dress in a risque fashion in his restaurant. Though she didn't find him at all attractive, she'd been postponing his gratification for some time now. She decided that now was the time to put out. 

"Excuse me, Leo," she said. "I've gotta use the washroom. If the waiter comes, order anything you like for me. I like all the food here." She got up and left. 

Leo noticed she was walking in the opposite direction of the washrooms; she never turned around and went the right way after being told where to go. Besides, if she liked all the food in Lehar's, then she must have been here enough times to know where the washrooms were. It was obvious to him that she'd lied to him. The waiter arrived, and Leo ordered for both of them; after he saw the waiter take their order to the kitchen, he got up and walked over to where he saw Camilla go. 

He found a door to the back area of the restaurant, where only the staff were allowed to enter. Nobody noticed him slip in. He walked down a short hallway and heard moaning from a room on the far right. He came to the door and turned the knob very slowly, careful not to make the slightest noise. The moaning and sighing was loud enough that any noise he'd made wouldn't have been heard anyway. He pushed the door slightly ajar and peeked in; it was a store room.

Camilla, naked, was on her knees in front of the restaurant manager and performing fellatio on him! His cock slid in and out of her mouth, caressed by her loving lips. Was Leo upset to see this? No: he knew from her carefree exhibitionism in Bob's apartment that afternoon that she was a loose woman. Leo knew she was anybody's girl, and he was perfectly accepting of that; he just wanted to have his turn with her that night. Besides, it was thrilling watching her demonstrate her superb cocksucking technique, and he gleefully hoped for it to be applied to his prick later that night. He panted as he watched her kiss and lick the tip of the manager's dick; she deepthroated it several times, impressively never gagging; she looked up in the man's eyes with the deepest concern about how well her mouth was pleasing him; and her fingers played with his balls, tickling them and gently shaking hem. 

The only thing, if any, that annoyed Leo was how Camilla could show such bad taste in a man for a lover: the manager, easily in his fifties, was fat, balding, and not particularly endowed in the penis department. At the same time, that annoyance was a comfort for Leo, for he knew that if such an unattractive man could be an acceptable lover to that sexy naked nymphomaniac, then surely Leo would be all the more desirable to her. This was the best possible boost of self-confidence he could have, and he could feel his original shyness melting away, replaced with an even macho audacity. So, however insulting a wound to Leo's pride it may have been at first to see her choose such a pig for a lover, ultimately this choice could only make Leo feel more self-assured. Go ahead, girl, suck away, he thought; besides, this sure was fun to watch...

As she kept sucking, the manager looked at the ajar door and noticed her date watching them. Instead of being startled, the fat man just smugly smirked, knowing he--not even half as good-looking as Leo--was enjoying Camilla's charms. The thrill of being watched also doubled the man's pleasure, propelling him toward orgasm all the faster. Camilla was glad to feel his cock fully hard and ready to blow, since she could get this over with quicker and return to Leo; so she intensified his stimulation, tickling the man's corpus spongiosum with her tongue, kissing and licking his knob, and tickling his scrotum and balls with faster finger movements. She would wrap her lips tightly around his knob and pull back on it, letting go with a popping sound as her head went back; then she'd put his dick back in her mouth and pop it out again in the same way. 

"Oh!" the manager groaned. "I'm gonna blow my load!"

Not wanting to mess up her face, Camilla now kept his dick in her mouth. He came, and she received every drop of the man's load, swallowing it all, gulp after gulp. She kept his penis in her mouth until she was sure no more squirts--even slight ones--would come out. Then she took his spent member out and put it back in his pants, zipping them up while looking up at him and grinning the whole time. 

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. "The best head I've had in over ten years; my wife should get lessons from you." She giggled at these words. "You'd better get back to your date. Imagine if he saw what we were doing."

Giggling again, she said, "Regardless of what Leo knows, I'll more than make it up to him later tonight." Leo smiled at these words.

"I'm sure you will make it up to him, and I'm already jealous," the manager said. "Lucky cuckold."

She bent over to pick up her dress; her ass was now pointing at the door, and Leo could see her pussy and asshole. He licked his lips at the beautiful sight. She put on her dress and high heels; at the sight of her getting dressed, Leo snuck out of the staff area and returned to his table. To get rid of the smell of the manager's dick and come from her mouth, Camilla took a breath mint out of her purse, sucked on it and crunched it quickly. Though Leo was long gone and free of anyone other than the manager knowing he'd been there, Camilla was surprised to see the door ajar; she was sure the manager had closed it when they went in. 

She went back to their table. "Sorry I took so long," she said to Leo.

"Oh, it wasn't long: that's for sure," Leo said with a barely-perceptible smirk. "Was it hard?"

"What?" she asked, already guessing at what he was implying.

"The washroom," he said with a more deadpan face this time. "Was it hard to find?"

"Oh, yeah," she said with a giggle of relief.

"I noticed you went the wrong way," he said with a bigger smirk. "You must have gone down on--I mean, you went up and down, suck--uh, searching long and hard, till he came--uh, you came to the right place."

"Uh-huh," she said, realizing what he was insinuating. Alright, she thought, I'll make it up to you tonight. "What did you order for us?" 

"I ordered steak au poivre for myself," he said with perfect French pronunciation. "As for you, you're eating coq au vin." (Would it even be necessary to indicate how he mispronounced her dish's first word?)

******************

After eating their dinner, Leo took her to his apartment, where they would soon be eating each other. Though Camilla had found his former shyness cute and charming, and was now somewhat disappointed to see it gone so quickly, she was still excitedly anticipating some good, hard fucking. As soon as they got inside his apartment and he closed the front door, he asked, "How about a nightcap first?" 

"Sure," she said. "Would you like me to get naked?"

"I'd love it," he said. His cock was already rising in his pants.

Her dress dropped to the floor, and she kicked off her high heels. "What happened to that shy boy I saw this afternoon?" she asked as she turned around so he could see all of her.

As he looked up and down her body, he said, "Well, my self-confidence skyrockets whenever those uglier than I are--so to speak--bowed before." He went to the kitchen to get each of them a glass of Bailey's Irish cream. 

"Um, about that manager, I--" she began to stammer.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said with an easy-going smile as he returned to give her her glass. "I'm not the slightest bit mad about that. Let's sit on the sofa, OK?"

"OK," she said as they walked over to the sofa. It was interesting to both of them to see her as the apologetic, nervous one, and him the calm, cool one. 

"Actually, I enjoyed watching you go to work," he said as they sat down beside each other.

"Really?" she asked with a lascivious grin. 

"Yeah. You played that pig like a piccolo. Speaking of which, you can believe me when I say I feel no bruise to my ego, because I'm much better-looking than he, and my dick's bigger, even if I do say so myself." He took a big swig of his Bailey's. 

"You got that right," she said after sipping her drink. "You're gonna be a lot more fun than he was. You go ahead and be as boastful as you like about your looks; you're justified. The only reason I blew him is so he'd allow me to wear dresses like that in Lehar's. In a high-class restaurant like that, it's not easy getting away with wearing risque clothes; and I wanted to please you by looking as sexy as possible. I hope you can forgive me: I'm a bad girl, I can't help myself."

"You go ahead and be as bad as you like," he said, then he gave her a peck on the lips. "What do I care if he had you? I have you now." 

They put their drinks on the coffee table and started French kissing. He fondled her breasts, gently squeezing them and tickling her nipples. She moaned and felt his groin while kissing him on his right cheek. Yes, she thought, his cock's definitely bigger than that restaurant manager's. He moved his head down, kissing her cheeks, neck, sternum, and breasts. He put her left nipple in his mouth and started sucking it while he fondled her right breast. She ran her hands through his hair and sighed with delight. Now you're the great sucker, she thought. 

They got off the sofa and lay on the floor, pushing the coffee table out of the way. He was on his back, and she went on top; they were in the 69 position. She unzipped his pants, pulled out his rock-hard cock, and put it in her mouth. With her ass in his face, he had those two beautiful holes at tongue's length. Now both of them were suckers; she sucked his cock while he sucked on her clitoris. Her pussy was fresh and clean; remembering the sweet smell of her urine when she'd peed at his brother's apartment that afternoon, Leo now wished she had used the Lehar's bathroom after all. Oh, well, he thought: maybe she'll pee for me later tonight. All the same, the fragrant smell of her pussy was pleasant to have just millimetres from his nose, which rubbed against her wet vaginal opening as his tongue tickled her clitoris. He then wrapped his lips around one of her labia minora and sucked on it; he would do the same with the other one in a few seconds. He put his tongue as deep inside her vagina as he could put it in; it barely reached and tickled her G-spot. She squealed through her nose, as her mouth was occupied with the full length of his cock. He pulled his tongue out of her cunt and licked her asshole. Again, it was sweet and fresh-smelling, which was fine for him, though that now-wished-for trip to the Lehar's washroom could have given it, for this fetishist, a sweeter, faecal smell. She took his cock out of her mouth and sucked on his balls while putting his cock between her breasts and squeezing it in that pillow-like place. With his balls in her mouth, she tapped them with her tongue and made them dance and gently ricochet against her teeth. His fingers pulled her asshole open so he could slide his tongue inside it as deep as it would go. He kissed her anus as passionately as a man would kiss a woman's ruby-red lips while his tongue slid in and out of the orifice. As he did this, his index and long fingers were tickling their way inside her vagina, stimulating her G-spot. 

Both of them were nearing orgasm. They were fortunate to avoid a mess all over his carpet, for, just in time, she'd put his cock back in her mouth, and he pulled his tongue out of her asshole and went back to licking her pussy. His finger went deep inside her asshole, swinging all around her rectum and stimulating all her rectal walls. She had her moist lips wrapped tightly around his shaft as it slid in and out of her mouth. He came in her mouth after a few seconds of her tongue hugging his corpus spongiosum, and she swallowed every drop of his ejaculation as it spouted in eight powerful shots down her throat. His tongue danced on her clitoris while his mouth was wide open, and her come poured out in a waterfall in his mouth; only a few drops ran down each side of his face. They rested for a few minutes.

"That was great," she said as she got up. "I gotta pee: wanna watch?" 

"Of course," he said as he got to his feet. They went to his washroom, and she sat on the toilet with her legs wide open. He smiled as he saw the pee fall down into the toilet bowl water, making a sleigh bell-like tinkling sound. 

"You're really OK about that manager?" she asked as she squirted out her last few drops of pee.

"Absolutely," he said. "I only regret not masturbating while I watched your amazing performance."

"Really?" she asked as she reached for the toilet paper.

"Yes," he said. "And I just learned, first hand, how good you really are with your mouth."

"Thanks," she said as she finished wiping herself. "You have quite a cunning tongue yourself." She dropped the toilet paper in the bowl and was about to flush the toilet.

"No, please," he said. "For the sake of my fetish, please leave your divine pee in the bowl." He bent down to sniff her stinky pussy. 

"OK," she said. He licked her external urethral orifice a few times before she said, "Wait, Leo. Stop."

"Oh, don't worry about the smell. I like it."

"I know, I don't mind that; but licking me there is unhealthy when I haven't cleaned it. I don't want you catching any germs and getting sick."

"Oh, all right, if you insist. But my cock's getting hard. Let's go to bed." He led her into his bedroom.

"How about anal?" she asked as she, carrying her purse, got on the bed. 

"I'd love that," he said. She took out her anal lube and squirted some on his hand. She was going to be on all fours, but he asked her to lie on her back and bring her legs up; she did. He lubed her rectum and his cock, then he got on top of her and slowly pushed the tip of his phallus against her anus. Wrapping her feet around the back of his neck, she looked in his eyes lewdly and moaned as she felt his cock slowly push its way inside her ass. When he was all the way in, she opened her mouth wide, squinted her eyes, and squealed with pleasure. She let out a high-pitched squeal each time his cock slid in, and breathed heavily each time it slid out. Loving the urine smell of her cunt, he gently and slowly put all the fingers of his left hand inside. When he got his whole fist inside, she screamed out loud. His fingers all danced around in there for a while, and her G-spot was going wild. He took his dripping wet hand out. Then he pulled his cock out of her ass and slid it in her soaking wet pussy. Pumping aggressively inside her and poking the knob of his shaft against her A-spot, he fondled her right breast with his right hand, pinching the nipple. He put the index finger of his wet left hand in her asshole, sliding it in and out and massaging her rectal walls. Her screams got higher and higher, and soon reached the whistle register. She splashed her come all over his groin; then he pulled his soaking cock out and put it between her tits. She wrapped them tightly around his member as he slid it back and forth. Those soft mammary cushions were strangling his dick, even making it suffocate with pleasure. Finally, he fired his load all over her face: the first shot hit her nose, some going up her nostrils; the second hit her lips; the third sprayed against her right cheek; the fourth flew into her right eye. She was giggling and screaming the whole time, sneezing his come out. She licked the come off her lips and thirstily drank it. 

He got off her, she sat up on the bed, and they slowly regained her breath. 

"After that," she said, "the only thing...I regret about being in...that store room is...that the man...I sucked wasn't...you, Leo." 



Camilla Ch. 042



As soon as Camilla got home on Monday morning, she got naked and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Candice was in the apartment when Camilla got there, but Candice stepped out after about five minutes of the warm shower water was spraying on Camilla's nude body. 

Every time she lathered up the soap in her hands, she had that disturbing sight in front of her eyes: those black lines along the bottoms of the lunulae of her fingernails. Only now it was worse--the black lines went up in four or five needle-thin, straight strands from each lunula almost to the tip of each of her fingernails. The same could be seen on her toenails: her heart pounded when she reached down to wash her feet. She would have to remember always to wear nail polish to cover up those eerie-looking lines. For once, there were actually parts of her body that she didn't want people to see. 

After cleaning her whole body, with especial attention given to making sure her vagina and rectum were immaculate, she washed her hair and rinsed it. Just as she'd got all the shampoo off her hair and body, the water was suddenly turned off. "What the f--?" she said. Then the shower curtain was pulled aside. She looked behind her and saw her soon-to-be stepfather Troy ogling her bare bottom. "Oh, hi Daddy," she said, then turned around nonchalantly, pushing her bust out. "What are you doing here?"

Now ogling her breasts and pubic hair, Troy said, "You gave me your name card, remember? It has your address on it. I can't stop thinking about you, sweetie, so I came here to see you. I hope you don't mind my not telling you I was coming." 

"No, it's okay," she said after wringing her hair day. "Can you get me a towel, please?"

"Sure," he said, reaching for one. He wrapped it around her and dried her torso. She stepped up on the bathtub to get out of the shower stall, but when she stepped down to get out, he didn't back up: he caught her in his arms and continued towelling her upper body dry. 

"How'd you get in?" she asked as he, backing up a few steps, dried her breasts. "I thought Candice left."

"She did," he said, "but first she let me in. I assume you already told her about me, and about how we feel about each other, and that's why she allowed me to come in while you were naked." He dried her buttocks and crotch. 

"Yeah," she sighed at his patting. "How'd you get away from Mommy? She must be getting suspicious about us by now, and watching you like the hawk she is."

Disturbed by her unfilial attitude to the woman he loved, he said, "She thinks I'm shopping for a new lap-top." He opened her buttocks and dried her anus. Then he dried her legs and feet. Drying her hair with another towel, Camilla hoped he wouldn't notice the black lines on her toenails. "OK, you're all dry, sweetie," he said, putting the towel back on the towel rack. 

"Can you check and see if I'm all clean, Daddy?" she said while gesturing to her vagina and anus. "I always worry thatf I've missed a few spots."

"OK, gladly," he said, and sat on the toilet. She turned around so her ass would be in front of his face. "Bend over and let's take a look." 

She spread her legs and bent over so he could see her pussy and asshole. He opened her already-wet vagina wide with his fingers and looked up close. "No pee-pee smell?" she asked.

"Nope," he said as his fingers felt their way along her vaginal walls. She softly moaned as his fingers rubbed against her G- and A-spots. "Perfectly clean." 

"What about my butt-hole, Daddy?" she asked, looking back at him upside-down from between her legs. 

His fingers stretched her anus open and he sniffed. "No poo smell." Then he slid his finger deep inside and felt around her rectal walls. She sighed from the stimulation. The whole tunnel seemed as if it had never been used. He pulled his finger out, and was impressed to find it as clean as it was before he put it in. "Wow, you clean thoroughly."

"No poo?" she asked.

"Not the slightest smudge of brown," he said as she straightened up and turned around. His left hand now fondled her breasts while the other one fingered her cunt. "Can you forgive me for being unfaithful to your mom?"

"Oh, easily," she said in sighs. "Go ahead and cheat. She always does, that fuckin' bitch..."

"Hey!" he shouted, slapping her. "Don't talk that way about your mother!" 

Camilla started to cry. 

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," he said, standing up and hugging her shaking naked body close to his. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and the hidden hard-on in his pants pushed against her belly. "I shouldn't have slapped you. I just feel so guilty about..."

Suddenly, she took his head in her hands, pulled it down, and put her tongue in his mouth. As they continued French kissing, he grabbed her buttocks and fingered her anus. Then he bent his knees and kissed his way down to her right breast, which he sucked on while fingering her hard clitoris. She squealed and ran her fingers through his hair. He moved his head over to suck on the other breast, and his finger went deep inside her vagina. His other hand, still fingering her anus, started pushing its way inside. Camilla opened her buttocks wide so he could slide his finger all the way inside her rectum. Then she put her hands back on his head, stroking his hair and kissing his head as he continued sucking on her left tit. His fingers twirled around inside her vagina and rectum, stimulating the walls of both sensual tunnels. Her sighs were turning into screams, higher and higher in pitch, nearing the whistle register.

Just then, the door opened. Candice ran over to the bathroom. "Troy, get out of here," she said urgently. "Her mom's coming."

"What?" he said, pulling out his fingers and shooting to his feet. 

"I saw her parking her car a block away from here as I was coming home. I think she saw me running as soon as I saw her, 'cause she started running after me."

"Hurry, Daddy!" Camilla said. "Get out before she gets here!"

"Shit!" he said, running out the front door. He went up the stairs to the next floor. Listening by the ajar door up there, he would wait to hear Collette's arrival before taking the elevator down and getting away. 

Seeing the front door to Camilla's apartment still open, Collette barged in. 

"Where is he?" she, out of breath, demanded. Her eyes were racing around the apartment, looking for a possible hiding place for Troy. 

"Where is who, Mommy?" Camilla asked in feigned innocence.

"Don't play dumb with me, you little tramp," Collette snarled. "I saw Troy's car parked near here, and you're naked as usual." She continued searching the apartment for him. "Put your damn clothes on!"

"No!" Camilla shouted. "This is my home, and 18 years old now. I'll do whatever I want to do!"

"She always walks around naked here, Ms. Mennon," Candice added. "She's just like that."

"Whatever," Collette said. Then she looked coldly at Camilla and said, "He is here, somewhere. I've seen the way you and Troy look at each other, you're not fooling me." After looking in every possible spot he could have been hiding in and not finding him, she gave up the search. "OK, he's not here now, but he was, I'm sure of it...and he will be. I'll catch you two together next time." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Camilla said.

"Don't insult my intelligence, you little slut!" Collette shouted, reaching back to slap Camilla, but stopping. "You're fucking him. You never forgave me for cheating on your dad those many years ago, and you're getting you're revenge on me...again!"

"Again?" Candice asked in surprise.

"Again," Collette said. "She's tried this before, tempted my past boyfriends into having sex with her to stop me from remarrying. But not this time! I'm marrying him no matter what!" She left in a fury, slamming the door.

******************

Just after lunchtime, Camilla went to her school to do the last dress rehearsal of the production of Hamlet that she, Akemi, and the other students would do the next day as part of their graduation. Immediately after that, she--in a tight-fitting, light pink dress--returned to that old primary school where her kindergarten was. She'd hoped to reignite some passion with Mr. Baker, but she would receive a most unpleasant surprise when she asked for him. 

Looking in Baker's classroom and not finding him there, she asked another teacher where he was. The teacher gave her a look that made her hair seem to stand on end. 

"What's wrong?" she asked with widened eyes.

"Come with me," the frowning teacher said. He took her to another teacher, Mr. Finch, who used to be her grade one teacher. Yet another handsome teacher she'd once had a crush on, he was Baker's neighbour in the apartment building they lived in. The two men were also close friends. Camilla and the frowning teacher went into Finch's classroom.

"Mr. Finch," he said. "This girl..."

"Camilla?" Finch asked. "Is that you, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Mr. Finch," she said with a grin and a giggle, temporarily forgetting her worries about Baker and pleased to see Finch was as handsome as ever. "You remember me: how sweet."

"She's asking about Mr. Baker," the other teacher said.

"Oh, I see," Finch said, his smile instantly turning upside-down. The other teacher left the room, and Camilla closed and locked the door so she and Finch would have privacy. "Come with me, sweetie. I have some unpleasant news for you." They went to a private niche in the back of his classroom; he had a bed there so he could take naps whenever he had a free period. Both he and Camilla saw a new use for it. They sat on the bed. "Camilla, have you ever grown into a beautiful young lady," he said.

"Thank you, sir," she said with a 'shy' giggle; she was doing her 'Angel' persona for his pleasure. "You're not getting older, you're getting better...looking, I mean." She giggled 'shyly' again. 

"Thank you, sweetie," he said. "How old are you now?"

"18," she said. "I graduate from high school tomorrow. I'm playing Ophelia in a scene from Hamlet." 

"Really? That's amazing; I always knew you were talented. Just a scene?"

"Yeah," she said. "The play's too long for each major part to be played by just one actor, so our drama teacher is having all the graduates play just a scene for each part."

"That's great," he said, trying to hide his ogling.

"What's wrong with Mr. Baker?" Her heart started pounding with fear for the worst. 

"Camilla," he began reluctantly, "Mr. Baker...committed suicide in his apartment three days ago."

"What?" she said in shock. A tear ran down her cheek. 

"He'd been acting crazy since last Thursday evening," he explained. "In his apartment, he was always yelling, screaming, crying, and hitting things. I knocked on his door, but he never answered. We were tempted to call the police, but we didn't want to cause such a normally nice man any more trouble than he was already having. So there was all this craziness; then, on Friday, silence, a much-too-long silence. By Sunday, there was an awful smell coming from his room. We knocked on the door, asking him to let us in--again, no answer. Finally, we broke down the door and went in. His naked, decomposing corpse was hanging by the neck on a chandelier in his dining room. He'd left a suicide note on the dining room table. It was all about you. Here it is." Finch gave her the note.

She read it: "'All my life, I've been a lonely man. Finally, several days ago I met a former kindergarten student of mine, Camilla Mennon, now fully-grown and beautiful to behold. She led me to believe she was in love with me. We made love--the first and only time in my life a woman ever wanted me to touch her. Though I felt guilty about sleeping with a girl I hadn't seen since she was about five, I really thought she loved me. How foolish I was. Just the other day, I caught her having sex with a painter in his art shop...' Oh my God," Camilla said. "He saw me with Carl?" She, sobbing, continued reading: "'She said she loved him...the same way she seemed to love me! It's obvious to me now: she just likes sleeping around with any man she can find. I mean nothing to her. And what am I? A lecherous creep who slept with a former student, a girl young enough to be my daughter, if only I ever was worthy of having a daughter, or a wife, or anyone to call my own! No sex and no love makes me a worthless man. All sex and no love makes me a lecherous man. All sex and no love makes her a scarlet young woman. All sex and no love makes everyone bad people. All sex and no babies makes empty families. All...' The writing isn't making any sense now," she said in soft sobs. Finch put his arm around her.

"Yes, I know," he said. "His heart was broken, to be sure, but I can't see how he would lose his mind like that. All that incoherent, insane rambling--it's so unlike him, the laid-back man we always knew. There must have been something else to make him act in so bizarre a way. Anyway, he's dead, sweetheart. Sorry."

"Dead?" Her eyes were almost too watery to see his. 

"I'm sorry." He caressed her cheek, wiping away some of her tears. 

"It's all my fault," she cried. "I only wanted to make him feel good, feel loved, but I did the opposite." Overwhelmed with guilt and grief for a man she considered one of the sweetest in the world, she continued weeping, but now loudly. 

"Don't blame yourself, sweetie," he said. He held her shaking body in his arms. She got up and sat on his lap, feeling his erect penis. He kissed her cheek, and she kissed his. She put her arms around him, and he, wanting to test just how 'scarlet' a girl she was, slowly unzipped her dress at the back. Encouraged by her total lack of resistance, he pulled it off of her; she allowed him to. Then he removed her high heels: she had the prettiest red nail polish on her toenails, to match her fingernails; no black lines were visible at all. He held her, in her white lace underwear, and rocked her back and forth, gently pecking her on the lips. 

He unhooked her bra, and she looked acquiescently in his eyes as he removed it to reveal her large breasts. He stared at them for a few seconds, awed by their loveliness; she, still crying, looked 'shyly' in his lustful eyes. He fondled her breasts for a few moments while pecking her on the lips; then he pulled down her panties--she got up most compliantly so he could take them off. Now she was completely naked: looking up and down in adoration of her beautiful body, he couldn't believe how easy it was to get her out of her clothes! And this after Baker's suicide note condemned her so harshly for being a slut! Finch correctly supposed she'd just resigned herself to always having a stained name. Whatever her reasons for being so, Baker was right about her! She sat back on his lap, facing him. She hugged him close while his hands roamed around her skin. They reached her buttocks and squeezed them; then he fingered her anus. The lovers never stopped kissing each other on the cheeks and lips. Her sobs were now alternating with sighs of excitement. 

He picked her up and laid her on her back on the bed. He got on top of her and unzipped his pants. She, still crying, spread and raised her legs for him. He pulled out his fully-erect phallus and pushed it against her vaginal opening. Her loud squeals of pleasure augmented her sobs of grief; he was worried the other teachers in the school would hear. He was fortunate to have a CD player within arm's reach: he turned it on. The volume of the music would be loud enough to drown out their cries of pleasure. He slowly slid his member further inside her soaking wet pussy: she screamed with ecstasy. When his cock--about six and a half inches long--went all the way in, she came. He kept pumping, and she kept coming in her usual multi-orgasmic way. As his cock probed her cunt, his hands caressed and squeezed her breasts. He was fascinated with them: he couldn't take his hands off of them. They were so soft! They were so big! They were so round! They were so beautiful! Her aureoles and nipples looked like those round, beige-coloured cookies one finds in a bag of assorted biscuits. Though he hadn't sucked them--he was too busy squeezing her breasts to get around to that--he was sure they were as sweet as cookies. He envied any future babies of hers, to get to enjoy such luscious treats during feeding time! 

Finally, he came--inside her pussy!

"Wait," she said in sighs. "Sir, you're not wearing a condom. What if I get pregnant?"

"Don't worry," he said as he continued shooting his load inside her. "I've had a vasectomy. Oh!" 

"Oh, OK," she said. He stopped squeezing her breasts, and let go of them; he admired their wiggling as he pulled his hands away. Then he pulled his spent penis out of her. "Did I please you, sir?"

"You...were amazing." He got off of her. 

"Thank you." She got off the bed. 

"I've never seen more perfect breasts in my life."

"Thank you," she giggled. "I'm glad you like them." She stood facing him so he could continue to enjoy looking at them. 

"I hope I didn't hurt you, sweetie. I just got so excited. Did I squeeze them too hard?"

"It hurt a little, but it was OK. I wanted to please you. I'll stay naked for you, if you want." She walked around his classroom; putting his penis back in his pants and following her, he admired her breasts, her wispy pubic hair, her soft, smooth, round buttocks, and her pretty bare feet. 

"Oh, please do." He continued followed her around as she walked, adoring her curves. "You have such a beautiful body, Camilla." 

"Thank you, sir. I'll wait for your thing to get hard again, and we'll start again. What do you want to do? Put it in my poo-hole?" She bent over so he could see her anus. 

"Sounds like fun; it's very pretty-looking. You don't mind us fucking after reading that suicide note?"

"Not at all," she said, opening her anus wide for him. "As my girlfriend Candice always says, 'fuck the pain away'."

"Indeed. You don't think I'm a terrible old man for having sex with you while you were crying?"

"Not at all. I've always wanted to sleep with you." His penis was getting hard again, and she went back to get her purse, which was by the bed, to get her anal lube. He followed her back into the niche. "Do you want to fuck my ass?"

"Actually, I'd like to tit-fuck you, if that's OK." He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out.

"OK," she said, and got down on her knees. He put his cock between her breasts, and she squeezed them together. 

"Please, let me hold them," he said. He grabbed them and moved his now rock-hard cock up and down in the cleavage. "Oh! They're so...soft and smooth!" She looked down so his imminent ejaculation would splash all over her face; she also put her hands on his ass, squeezing his buttocks. He kept sliding his cock between her tits and quickly moving her breasts up and down alternately in his hands to stimulate his erection more. Nearing orgasm, he looked down at her beautiful squatting nakedness. Oh, that perfect, creamy peach skin! How did this girl grow from the pig-tailed innocence of being a first-grader to the busty Aphrodite she was now? he wondered as his hard cock was smothered in the smoothness of her soft breasts. Finally, he blew his load in several straight shots up at her face: the first shot hit her nose--she screamed her surprise; the second shot, her right eye; the third, her lips; the fourth and last, her left cheek. His come made her tears as invisible as her nail polish had made those black lines on her nails. With his come dripping off her cheeks and nose, she looked up at him and giggled: her laughter made oblivion of her previous sobbing. She then gently wiped the tip of his cock against those parts of her face that hadn't been drenched with his come. "Thank you...for giving me...such a...good time," he moaned. 




Camilla Ch. 042



"Thank you for comforting me," Camilla said, staying naked and leaving his come on her face for several more minutes, for his viewing pleasure. 

After cleaning her face, getting dressed, and leaving, Camilla noticed a woman approaching Finch's classroom. When Finch opened the door to greet her, they kissed. Must be his wife, Camilla thought. Once again, she narrowly escaped ruining someone's marriage. That didn't mean she wouldn't soon put a dent in her mother's marriage plans, though. 



Camilla Ch. 043



As Camilla rode in Bob's car to the park where they were going to do a publicly nude photo shoot late that Monday afternoon, she tried to assuage her guilt feelings over Mr. Baker's suicide. It wasn't my fault, she told herself in her mind; he must have already been secretly crazy; I couldn't have caused his insanity. Still, she couldn't stop wondering how the deaths of a number of her lovers, all within such a short time, could only be a coincidence. 

At about 5 PM, they arrived at the park and got out of Bob's car. She, barefoot, was wearing a leather trench-coat of Bob's to cover her nudity. Bob got his camera, and they found a suitable place in the middle of the park, quite crowded with people of all ages and both sexes. 

"So how are we going to avoid getting in trouble with the police?" she asked Bob. "There are a lot of people here." 

"I bribed the cops whose beat is in this area," he said. "There are probably a number of plain-clothes cops here now, not just to give us protection, but to enjoy the show." 

"If this is their beat, they can beat off all they like," she said, ready to remove the trench-coat. "Ready?"

"This was your idea, Ms. Female Flasher," he said while aiming his camera. "Are you ready?"

"Yep," she said, knowing the thrill of exhibitionism would take her mind off of Baker. "Here we go." The trench-coat fell on the ground, and Bob started taking pictures. 

"Everybody's looking at your body, Camilla," he said as he moved up and down taking pictures of her. "Isn't it exciting, all these people knowing what you look like naked?"

"Yeah," she said with a grin and a giggle. "I wonder if anybody I know is seeing me now?"

"Could be," he said as he came closer to her. "How does that make you feel?"

"Horny," she sighed. The lustful look in Bob's eyes as he was taking photos was also getting her excited. 

The jaws of everyone in the area dropped to the ground as soon she was seen; soon Bob wasn't the only one taking photos of naked Camilla, for several men had got out their digital cameras and started snapping. Mothers quickly took their children out of the park. 

She squatted and spread her legs for Bob. She loved the way the blades of grass tickled her pussy. She, always grinning, looked insouciantly into Bob's camera lens. 

"That's it," he said as he squatted down, "You haven't a care in the world. You love to show yourself off to the world 'cause you're so beautiful." Giggling, she spread her labia, and he, coming nearer for close-ups, got pictures of her opened vagina. "Let's see you from behind, sweetie."

"Agreed," said a man standing behind Bob. A number of men had come closer to get a better look.

She turned around and got on all fours, spreading her legs wide apart so her vulva and anus were on display. She'd got so excited from seeing the arousal in Bob's eyes that her pussy was already dripping wet. He got several pictures of her in this pose. One picture he got was with her head looking forward, as though she didn't know any men were studying her holes from behind. Then she looked back and Bob got a picture of her with a feigned frown of suspicion, as if to say, 'What are you guys doing, looking at my pussy and asshole?' A third picture Bob took was of her looking back at him and smiling lasciviously, as if to say, 'Which hole would you like to fuck, Bob, my cunt or my ass?' 

She noticed a young man she knew from her neighbourhood looking at her holes. She didn't find him attractive at all; in fact, she didn't even like him very much; but the thought of being seen naked by all kinds of people turned her on, just on the general exhibitionistic principle. He got closer and said, "Wow! So that's what you poop through, Camilla."

She laughed out loud, and Bob got a terrific picture of her with this giggling face. 

"The world needs more girls like you, sweetheart," a man in his fifties said to her. She giggled some more. Her pussy was getting wetter and wetter.

She stood up, slowly swaying her hips, and with one hand on her hip and the other hand pushing up her hair by her ear. As Bob continued taking pictures of her front and back, more and more people, mostly men, gathered around up close to see this extraordinary sight. There were now at least twenty oglers surrounding Camilla and Bob. When one young man tried to touch her ass, a plain clothes policeman pulled him back and showed him his badge. He and the other cops also made sure no underage people got up close. Paying off those cops was a good idea, Bob mentally observed. 

That first plain-clothes cop, however, hoped he'd have an opportunity to have that naked girl all to himself one day soon. 

Camilla brought one breast up to her mouth and sucked on the nipple; her other hand tickled her hard clitoris. All these men watching me! she thought; I'm getting so hot! She squatted down, and with her legs spread wide open she continued masturbating. Again, the grass brushing against her vulva got her horny. All the men were cheering her on. Bob switched his camera to video. She pulled her spread-wide legs up so her pussy and asshole were showing. The index and long fingers of her right hand went up her cunt, massaging her G- and A-spots; the long finger of her left hand went deep inside her rectum, rubbing against the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. The men, whistling and shouting, were loving the show. Her screams of pleasure got higher and higher, nearing the whistle register. She looked out to the crowd of leering men: the lewd looks in their eyes got her even hornier. 

Suddenly, she recognized one of them--it was Mr. Tremblay, her old French teacher, the one who saw the video of her nude and masturbating at the park the week before! He, a tall, thin man in his late 40s, was as handsome as he'd been when she'd had a crush on him those many years ago. The lines of grey in his hair didn't make him look merely older: they made him look more distinguished; she loved that. The thrill of seeing his eyes looking down at her wide-open pussy brought her to orgasm: she squealed in whistle register, and her come flew out of her cunt in a high arc, splashing on the grass a couple of feet in front of her. Several more gushes of come flew out the same way. When no more come came out, she received enthusiastic applause from all sides. She giggled her thanks to all the men. 

"That...was incredible," Bob said, trying to keep his own hard-on from ripping through his pants. 

"I agree," Tremblay said. "Is your name Camilla?"

"Yes," she said, getting up. "Hi, Monsieur Tremblay!" She ran up to him and hugged him tightly, rubbing her breasts from side to side against his belly. The erection in his pants poked at her belly. 

"You remember me?" he asked in surprise. 

"Of course," she said. "You were my French teacher back when I was in grade seven. I had such a crush on you."

"How sweet," he said. "How old are you now?"

"18; I'm graduating from high school tomorrow. Do you like my body?"

"You're flawless; you blossomed gloriously."

"Thank you," she said with a grin and a high-pitched giggle. Her eyes wide open, and with a smile of feigned would-be innocence, she asked, "Would you like to fuck me, sir?" She was doing the slutty persona of 'Candy'. 

"Who wouldn't? Are you free to go now, or are you going to pose for more pictures?"

"Bob, what do you say we stop for tonight?"

"Yeah, I think we have enough for today," Bob said. "With the pictures we have from today and yesterday, I think we have enough to put them in categories for your website: pussy, ass, pissing, public nudity,..."

"Speaking of pissing," Camilla said, squatting to pee.

"Wait a minute," Bob said, aiming his camera at her. "I wanna get some video of this."

"Good idea," she moaned. Bob clicked play for video, and Camilla let her urine pour out on the grass. Again, the blades of grass, now wet with her piss, tickled her pussy, increasing her pleasure. Tremblay looked down in awe at the pissing goddess, whose golden urine gave a dew-like gloss to the grass. "Uh-oh," she said as the pool of yellow expanded to where her feet were. "I'm getting my pee-pee on my feet," she said, giggling. 

"That's OK," Tremblay said. "Now you have golden feet."

Many other men with a taste for urolagnia stayed to watch Camilla pee. She squirted her last few spurts of pee, letting out a squeal with each squirt. "Now I need to wipe myself," she said. "Who has tissue?"

"I do," Tremblay said, giving her one. 

"Thanks," she said, and wiped herself. She stood up. "Let's go."

"Don't you want to get your clothes?" Tremblay asked. 

"What clothes?" she asked, handing Bob his trench-coat. "Is your car near here?" 

"Yes," Tremblay said, pointing to it. "Just over there." Conveniently, his car was next to Bob's. The three of them walked to the cars together, with four plain-clothes cops surrounding them for Camilla's protection. She said good-bye to Bob, and got in Tremblay's car. Tremblay got in and drove her to his house. 

***********************

It was about 6 o'clock in the evening when he, hoping Camilla wouldn't be seen by any of his neighbours, got the still-naked girl into his house. They went into his bathroom so she could wash the pee off her pussy and feet. He turned on the bath water, and she got in the bathtub, sitting down. As the bath water slowly rose up around her body, he lathered up the soap in his hands. She raised her feet so he could clean them. 

"Please be careful not to wash off the toenail polish, sir," she said, afraid he'd see those black lines on her toenails. 

"Don't worry," he said as he began cleaning her feet. His gentle hands rubbed all over her feet: her soles, heels, and around and between her toes, always careful to avoid the nails. She sighed with delight from his sensual hands. When he was finished cleaning them, he said, "OK, stand up."

She stood, and after lathering his hand again, he put it between her legs. She squatted slightly so he could get to her pussy more easily. He soaped up her clitoris, her urethral orifice, and her vagina, putting his fingers deep inside. She moaned in a high pitch from the thrilling sensation. Obviously, she wasn't wet only from the water. He thoroughly rinsed the soap away, stroking her vaginal walls to make sure no soap was there. Her moans turned into squeals. He unplugged the bathtub, and she got out. He got a towel and dried off her pussy, legs, and feet, again careful not to remove her toenail polish. Now that her vagina was wet, her clitoris was hard, her labia were swollen with excitement, and his cock was rock hard, he took her upstairs to his bedroom. 

He lay on the bed on his back, and she got on top of him in the cowgirl position. She unzipped his pants and pulled them down; she enjoyed watching the full length of his phallus become increasingly revealed to her hungry eyes as she slowly pulled his underwear down. When the elastic of his underwear pulled against his knob and snapped away, his fully-erect penis wiggled and bounced when it was completely uncovered; her mouth was watering as much as her pussy was. Then she slowly brought her pussy down to meet the tip of his cock, gradually feeding it into her dripping wet cunt. She sighed in ascending pitches, her breathing heavier and heavier, and her sighs louder and louder, the deeper his dick slid inside. When it was all the way in, the tip pushed against her A-spot. She went up and down on his cock a few times, and after his knob poked her A-spot the third time, she came a puddle all over his groin. She screamed with pleasure, and continued going up and down on his cock; he enjoyed watching her delicious breasts bounce up and down, and he fondled them for a while, gently squeezing them and pinching her nipples. She squealed her appreciation for his sensitive hands. Then he put his hands on her ass; opening her buttocks wide, he fingered her anus. 

She continued going up and down on his cock, delighting in the stimulation of her G-spot as his cock's length and thickness rubbed against her happy vaginal walls. She came three more times, each in rapid succession. He was approaching orgasm himself, and she, sensing this, took his cock out of her cunt and masturbated it as she brought her face up to it. She had his dick-hole pointing right at her upper lip area as she continued moving her hand along the length of his shaft, all lubricated with her come. He shot his load all over her face: the first splash hit her nose; the second, her chin; the third, her right cheek; the fourth, her lips. With his come dripping off her nose, lips, and chin, she moaned and giggled. 

"Magnifique," he said, looking down at the grinning, gooey girl.



Camilla Ch. 044



Tuesday at 1 PM was when everyone arrived at the girls' high school for their graduation; before the actual ceremony began, the all-female performance of Hamlet was seen, and Camilla, in her scene as Ophelia, predictably wore no panties under her knee-length dress. Being more used to Camilla's outrageousness by now, Akemi--in their scene as Hamlet--only blushed this time when she opened Camilla's legs, after she said 'No-thing!' The shy Japanese-Canadian was no longer scandalized by Camilla's excesses--she was too much in love with her acting partner. 

After the performance, there were some speeches. Mr. Langella was one of the teachers who talked. 

"I would like to start by congratulating all our girls not only for their wonderful performances, but also for their success at our school," he said. "We will certainly miss them, as we will miss some of our teachers. Mr. Pierce, one of our gym teachers, will be leaving us to teach at St. Mark's Catholic High School in Victoria starting in the fall. We wish him the best of luck in his future." Everyone clapped as Pierce stood up. Then Langella continued with a frown: "This missing of teachers brings me to my next point...which I regret having to announce. One of our French teachers, Mr. Leroy, passed away this past weekend." Everybody froze at this news, particularly Camilla, who shook with agitation to hear that yet another of her lovers had died. "He was a well-loved teacher here at our school," Langella continued, "and we will never forget him." 

This sad news cast a pall over the proceedings of the graduation ceremony, though everyone tried to be in as high spirits as possible. After the ceremony, Camilla searched around for Langella at the reception. When she saw him, she cut through the crowds of people as quickly as she could to get to him; when she got near him, she tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes?" he said as he turned around. "Oh, hi Camilla." Then he began to whisper, "Do you want to...?"

"How did Mr. Leroy die, sir?" she asked Langella urgently. 

With a sigh, he said, "Food poisoning. I know, it's shocking."

"Sir," she whispered, "I made love with him." She fought back her sobs as she continued whispering. "A lot of my lovers have been dying on me. I don't understand what's going on."

"What?" he said with a sneer of skepticism. "You think you're causing it? Not likely, sweetie. He died of food poisoning. What could you have done?" Then he whispered, "Lactate poisoned milk as he sucked your tits? Look: why don't we talk about this over dinner tonight at my place?" He, careful not to be seen by anyone else, stroked her arm. 

"I-I'd love to, sir," she said in sobs. "But...I have this weird feeling you'll die, too."

"Honey," he whispered, "if you're lovemaking is lethal, my fate is already sealed. Remember last Friday night? And the Friday night before that? I'm prepared to live dangerously." He ogled her with these last words.

"Well, OK," she said, starting to cheer up a bit. Then in his ear she softly purred, "My pussy smiles when your cock is inside her." 

"That's the spirit," he whispered. "It's settled, then. My place tonight, at 8 PM?" 

"OK," she said with a lewd smile.

"I'll cook a nice gourmet dinner for two; you'll see that I'm not only an artist at the easel, but also in the kitchen. See you tonight."

"I already can't wait," she said as he walked away. Then Candice and Mr. Pierce came up to her. 

"Hi Camil," Candice said. "Mr. Pierce is moving to Victoria tomorrow, so today's his last day here. That means this is his last chance for sexual penance. We should make it special this time." 

"Right," Camilla said. "Any ideas?"

"How about we get him naked and tied up on those pillars by the kitchen again? Only this time, we can invite all the graduating girls to our home to see him. I'm sure most, if not all, of them think he's really hot (which he is), and would love to see him naked."

Pierce, always the sexual masochist, eagerly awaited his imminent humiliation. He looked impatiently in Camilla's eyes, waiting for her to agree with this idea. 

"Well, he saw us all naked in the shower during gym class," Camilla said as she got out her cell-phone. "We all should see him. It's only fair. Tit for tat: pardon the pun." She started texting her classmates. "We'll make it a party; I'll invite Michael, too. I'm sure lots of the girls here will rush to our home to check Pierce's cock out." 

"Definitely," Candice said. "I'll drive him to the apartment. See you in an hour or so?"

"Sounds good," Camilla said, and continued texting. This was the message she would send to several of her classmates: 'Come to Camilla's and Candice's apartment for an after-graduation party. Pass it on to the other girls. No teachers, though. Here's why: YOU'RE GONNA SEE MR. PIERCE NAKED. NO LIE!' She included the address, and sent the message to Tina (who saw her on the toilet at NRG two Fridays ago), Akemi (who wasn't interested), Calina, a first-generation Russian-Canadian, and a few other girls. Tina, Calina, and two of the otter girls forwarded the message, and a dozen grade twelve girls, excluding Camilla and Candice, would go to the apartment. 

Bisexual Calina was especially excited about being there, and for two reasons: Camilla and Pierce. Calina was the other girl who, along with Akemi, Tina, and Candice, enjoyed watching Camilla get naked in the change room during gym class. The 18-year-old Russian, a curvaceous, buxom, and pretty brunette, went up to Camilla to ask her about the party. 

"Mr. Pierce is naked in your home?" Calina whispered in her lilting Slavic accent. "Or is it pictures?" 

"Him, the real him," Camilla said with a lascivious growl. "In the uncovered flesh." 

"How exciting," Calina sighed. "Drive me crazy. I go there now, OK?" 

"OK," Camilla said. "I'll drive you there. Let's go." The girls left. 

*****************

It was about 4:30 PM when all the girls had arrived in Camilla's and Candice's apartment. Three of the girls, expecting only to see photos of Pierce naked, ran out of the apartment in tears. The shock of seeing their gym teacher actually there, frontally nude and tied to those pillars at the wrists and ankles, was too much for them, especially since his penis was partially erect from the excitement of being erotically humiliated. Michael, Camilla's gay friend, arrived soon after: he and Pierce had been having a clandestine relationship since the week before, when Michael had demonstrated his so impressive sucking skills on Pierce. 

The remaining girls stared in awe at the beauty of their teacher's muscular nude body. He was even better looking nude than any of them had imagined! Calina was practically drooling at the sight of his large cock, which she was impatient to get a chance to suck like a lollipop. Candice was behind him, spanking his ass hard. His buttocks looked like two tomatoes side by side. 

"Mr. Pierce is a naughty boy!" she shouted in a maternal voice as her hand swatted his buns. "Camilla and I feel you girls ought to know this, before he leaves our school. Mr. Pierce used a hidden camera to watch us in the shower room!" 

"You saw us all naked, sir?" one chubby girl asked in horror. After he nodded shamefacedly, she shrieked, "Oh my God!" She was shaking with embarrassment.

"Really, sir?" another girl asked. After another blushing nod, she said, "You're a creep! You should be in jail!" The two scandalized girls started marching toward the front door to leave.

"Wait a minute, girls," Camilla said. "As you can see, he's sincerely sorry. He's being punished, and he'll never do it again. Justice is done. Let's show a little Christian charity and forgive him, OK?"

"Whatever," the fat girl said, and she and the other angry girl left.

"Does my body please you, sir?" Calina asked, delighted at the thought of him lusting after her nakedness. "You don't think I too hairy between legs? Some men don't like that." She couldn't take her eyes off his erection. 

"How could he not like a beautiful girl like you, Calina?" Camilla asked, knowing the large-breasted Russian had the hots for her, too. 

"You really think so, Camilla?" Calina asked, breathing heavily at the thought that Camilla might be equally interested in her. 

"Oh, yeah," Camilla purred as she looked lewdly in Calina's hypnotic brown eyes. They approached each other for a kiss. They pecked each other on the lips. 

"OK, this is getting weird," a girl said, and left.

"Who wants to feel Mr. Pierce's ass?" Candice asked after giving him his last spank.

"I do," said Calina. She went into the kitchen from the other entrance to get behind him. She gently stroked his red behind from bottom to top along his anal cleft. Feeling his buttock hairs softly brush against her hand, she squealed, "Ooh!" as she jerked her hand away. "So hot!" Her pussy was soaking in her panties. 

"Let's untie him," Camilla said. 

"Good idea," Candice said, and she, Camilla, Calina, and Michael each freed one of Pierce's limbs from its bond. He fell forward onto the floor, and crawled on all fours toward the living room, where there was much more floor space for lovers to gather together for group sex. Michael got some of Camilla's anal lube and lubed Pierce's rectum, freshly cleaned with every inch of the rest of his body when Candice bathed him before tying him up. Then Michael unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. 

"OK, I'm outta here," sand another scandalized girl.

"Me, too," said another.

"Me, three," said a third. "You people are gross!" The three girls left the apartment in disgust. 

The remaining people didn't mind the shrinking number of guests: now they could all enjoy a little orgy together. The other girls began to strip as Michael, now completely naked, pushed his lubed cock inside Pierce's asshole. Though only Camilla was interested in watching the gay sex, the other girls admired Michael's muscular nude body as much as they did Pierce's. When the other girls were stripped down to their underwear--Candice's, black; Calina's, red; and Tina's, pink--Camilla was still just unzipping her dress, for she was too distracted with the enjoyment of watching Michael slide his cock in and out of Pierce's ass to strip any faster. Normally, Camilla--a fan of gay porn--had to watch DVDs of gay sex: now, she had it right in front of her eyes, and she wanted to savour every second of it. 

As Calina had been removing her white blouse and black skirt, she was moaning to herself, "Oh, Mr. Pierce, you make me crazy. That hot body, that big dick, those muscles, that beautiful ass!" Now that she was removing her red bra and lace panties, her eyes were aiming straight for his cock. As much as she wanted Camilla, she'd already seen that sultry blonde in the nude many times: now she was focused on Pierce; she would enjoy Camilla soon enough. When she was naked, she got down on all fours to the right of Pierce and Michael, and she put her head under Pierce so she could put his hard cock in her mouth. 

As Tina took off her pink bra and panties, she stared at Camilla, impatient to see her get fully nude. She wasn't interested in Pierce so much: she just wanted to lick Camilla's pussy. Camilla dropped her dress to the ground to reveal her white lace bra and panties. Naked Tina went up to Camilla and pulled her panties down as Camilla unhooked her bra. When Camilla's bra fell to the ground, both girls got on the floor in a 69 position: Tina was on the bottom, with Camilla's ass in her face. 

Naked Candice, on all fours, put her ass in Pierce's face so he could eat her purple pussy and pink asshole out. She curved her torso to the right so she could gain access to the hairy pussy and asshole of cocksucking Calina. Gluttonously licking Calina's vulva and anus, Candice was impressed with how perfectly clean the two holes were: no faecal or urinary odour at all. Though Calina was hairy all around the periphery of her pussy and asshole, she wasn't too hairy. The hairs were soft, scanted wisps that tickled Candice's face as she licked, sucked, and kissed. Calina's labia had a pinkish-purple colour--Candice sucked on them like liquorice; outside the wrinkled, hairy periphery of Calina's pretty anus, there were three little moles--beauty marks in the true sense of the term--that gave her asshole a distinctive charm--one at nine o'clock from the hole, one at ten o'clock, and one at about two o'clock. Candice was kissing and licking the whole area with glee, even sometimes tightly clasping those little wisps of hair in her lips and gently pulling on them. 

Meanwhile, Calina was enjoying a delicacy of her own: Pierce's long, hard cock. She deep-throated it, licked and kissed the knob, and tickled his corpus spongiosum with her tongue. She gently shook his balls with her hand as she sucked. She moaned with pleasure not only from the enjoyment of that rock candy, but also from the stimulations she was getting from Candice's lips and tongue. Her clitoris was as hard as it had ever been, thanks to Candice's lips wrapping themselves tightly around it. Though men had matched Candice's enthusiasm in giving Calina anilingus, no man had ever stimulated Calina's asshole as well as Candice was! Candice's tongue bore its way inside the orifice, trying to get as deep inside that pretty depression as it could. Calina appreciated how Candice fully accepted the hairiness in front of her face. Candice's fingers flickered their way inside Calina's vagina, tickling her G-spot. 

Though Tina was ravenously licking Camilla's pussy, tickling her hard clitoris with her tongue and sucking on her labia, Camilla was stimulating Tina's vagina with only her hands; for Camilla didn't want to take her eyes off Michael's sodomizing of Pierce. Camilla would often put her hand on Pierce's left buttock, opening it so she could see Michael's penetration of her teacher's asshole better. Being up so close was thrilling for her: she licked her lips as she watched Michael pushing his large cock deep inside and pulling it out of Pierce's welcoming rectum. She felt that, somehow, there was something salaciously delightful about watching a man on the receiving end of sex, being penetrated like a woman. Pierre moaned at the stimulating of his anal walls, which in turn indirectly stimulated his prostate, and Michael loved the tightness of Pierce's ass. 

Their grunts, moans, sighs, and squeals were like the six-part harmony of a carnal chorus of libertine singers. Pierce grunted in the bass, while Michael groaned in baritone. Candice was a contralto moaner, Calina sighed in alto, Tina squealed in mezzo-soprano, and Camilla screamed in soprano. That soprano would rise up to sopranino when she was to scream in whistle register during her imminent orgasm. 

Indeed, everyone's cries of ecstasy were rising in pitch, and a shower of come was almost there. First, Camilla orgasmed, spraying Tina's whole face. Spitting some of the cooze out, Tina was totally taken off guard. Calina, also a gusher, spewed on Candice's face. Unlike Tina, though, Candice was used to being rained on, and she gleefully licked the come off her face. When Candice came, her drops of come were greedily licked off her pussy by Pierce. When Pierce ejaculated in Calina's mouth, she swallowed almost every drop, though some dripped off her lips. Camilla's fingers, dipping in Tina's come, became sweet candy for her to suck on. Finally, it was Michael's turn to come, and he pulled his cock out of Pierce's ass and brought it to the man's face. He briefly jerked himself off, and jizzed on Pierce's nose and cheeks. 

"Mr. Pierce gets another baptism of come," Candice said, laughing.

"His sins are forgiven," Camilla said. "His penance is over. Sir, go in peace." 

Though the men were done, the girls weren't finished yet. Calina still wanted to enjoy Camilla. The girls got in a sixty-nine position, with Calina on the bottom and Camilla's ass in her face. As Camilla was licking and fingering Calina's pussy, neither Tina nor Candice wanted to be left out. Tina hadn't yet enjoyed Camilla's delicious breasts yet, and Candice wanted to mitigate her jealousy of Camilla by enjoying her blonde roommate also. Therefore, Tina got her hands on Camilla's left breast and began sucking it, while Candice had the right one. Calina sucked on Camilla's clitoris, already hard again after so short a break, and her fingers explored the inside of Camilla's cunt. Soon Calina moved her head up and started licking Camilla's asshole, as immaculate as Calina's was, though virtually hairless. 

Candice got bored with Camilla's breast, having sucked it so many times before; she was also getting tired of trying to compete for Camilla's affections. She became curious about Tina's pretty little pussy, which was jealous of all the other genitals in the room for enjoying a so much more thorough stimulation. Candice crawled over behind Tina and started licking. Now Tina, squealing with pleasure from Candice's wicked tongue, could get her hands on both of Camilla's breasts. Candice fingered herself as she licked Tina's cunt and asshole. Tina continued sucking on Camilla's left breast and fondling the right one. 

Camilla and Calina continued sucking, licking and kissing each other's holes. Camilla wrapped her lips around Calina's rock-hard clit while sliding her fingers in and out of the girl's hairy cunt. Like with Candice, Calina's genital hair tickled Camilla's face. Camilla's index finger rubbed against Calina's G-spot, while her long finger reached Calina's A-spot. Calina, a mirror image of Camilla, fingered Camilla's pussy in exactly the same way, while licking and kissing Camilla's pretty bronze anus. 

Tina loved the soft, rubbery texture of Camilla's nipple and areola. Candice's expert licking brought Tina to orgasm, and Candice hungrily licked away the vaginal secretion. Candice's fingering brought her to orgasm soon after, and both she and Tina rested while Camilla and Calina kept going. Candice licked her own come off her fingers as she rested. Now, all eyes were on Camilla and Calina. 

Both the busty blonde and brunette were screaming higher and higher, and were licking and fingering faster and faster. Finally, to the delight and awe of their four spectators, they came simultaneously all over each other's faces. Camilla's ejaculation was like a waterfall from above, while Calina's was like a water sprinkler from below. Come dripping from their noses and chins, the two girls just lay there, slowly catching their breath. 

"So hot," Calina sighed. "Drive me crazy." 



Camilla Ch. 045



It was around 6 PM that Tuesday when all of Camilla's and Candice's guests got dressed and ready to leave their apartment, though Camilla as usual remained in the nude; she even left Calina's come on her face, knowing that the Russian nymphomaniac would like to see her still gooey-faced. Calina was the last guest to leave.

"With a body as beautiful as yours, Calina," Camilla told the girl, whose come was dripping off the speaker's chin, "you should work as a stripper with Candice and me at Luvlee's."

"We all naked together?" Calina asked in her lyrical Russian accent. "So hot!"

"Yes," Candice said. "It pays well, too. It'll be good for paying for your university tuition. And talk about summer partying! Sex, drugs, you name it. All the men want you; you just pick the men you like."

"Make me crazy," Calina sighed. "We three make love, too?"

"Sure," Camilla said. "Candice and I eat each other's pussies onstage sometimes...while everybody watches. Feel free to join us when we do."

"Oh, how exciting!" Calina moaned. "I think about it. See you next week in summer school trigonometry class, Camilla; and, I hope, you both in Luvlee's. Bye!" Calina walked out the door and left.

"Bye," Camilla said, then closed the door. "Now to clean up and get ready for my dinner-date with Mr. Langella."

"You're fucking him tonight?" Candice asked. "What about Bates Massage? Don't you have to work there tonight?"

"No, I quit," Camilla said. "I got sick of it there. Always the same old fat, ugly pigs of men for customers--not my types at all. It's no fun there anymore. Besides, I've got new work posing for Bob. Now that's fun work. You should do a lezzie video with me for him one of these days."

"I don't know if I want to be seen in porn," Candice said.

"We can do it POV style; only my face will be seen. They won't see your face: only your body. Think about it. Anyway, I've gotta get ready."

Camilla showered, put on a dark red evening gown with matching high heels, and painted up her face in this manner: dark red lipstick, thick mascara, dark blue eye shadow, and pink blush. Then she did her hair up in a bun and went into the living room so Candice could see.

"What do you think?" Camilla asked. "Whore of the century?"

"Elegant whore of the century," Candice said. "You look great."

"Thanks," Camilla said. "Gotta go. Bye." She opened the door and walked out.

"Bye," Candice said as the door was closed. Then Candice got a bag of heroin and a hypodermic needle she got from Francine, and looked in the kitchen for a spoon.

*****************

Camilla arrived in her car at Langella's house at about 8:05 PM; he was waiting on his porch for her. "Do you ever look beautiful!" he said as she got out of her car.

"Thanks," she said as she closed her car door. He took her into his house. The last time she had been in his house--last Friday night--she was too high and preoccupied with sex to notice all the art on Langella's living room walls, all painted by him. They were all in an Expressionist style, showing man's anguish at seeing his society corrupted by selfish desire, and his fear of one day having to bear responsibility for his sins. Camilla was awed by her art teacher's talent. "Sir, with so much talent, why do you only teach art?"

"Because that's how I put food on the table, obviously," he said. "Speaking of food, our dinner's just about ready." The aroma of their meal, lobster creole, was emanating from the kitchen and hovering throughout the house.

"Mmm, that smells good!" she said as he led her into the dining room.

"Thanks," he said, pulling out a chair for her at the dining room table. She sat down, and he went into the kitchen to get the food. He brought back the lobster on plates for both of them, then he uncorked a bottle of wine--Sauternes--and poured both of them a glass. They clinked glasses, took a sip, and started eating.

"Sir!" she said after her first few bites. "This is good! You could just as easily be a professional gourmet chef."

"I'm glad you like it," he said. "At the risk of sounding snobbish, I believe in good taste. High quality in food, and high quality in the arts. The music you were stripping to on Friday night--the Black Eyed Peas and that kind of thing--is that what you normally strip to?"

"No, usually I choose older music," she said.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said. "There's so much better music to strip to than trash like Peaches or Trampauline, if you don't mind my criticizing you."

"Oh, I agree. I only danced to 'Gang-banged' because I wanted you teachers to do that to me."

"So, that's why you always sang that in front of me in art class; I understand you sang that in front of Mr. Williams in his class, too."

"Yeah, I'm a bad girl; I hope you can forgive me for that."

"Speaking of forgiving, I hope you can forgive us for what happened after the gang-bang two weeks ago in that old abandoned building. You running out naked and all, and those punks chasing you. Terrible."

"I know, but it all turned out okay. I remember the bruises you guys got from fighting them."

"Yeah, you can still see the black eye I got, if you look carefully. Kids like those punks, and that new 'music', are the poisons of society."

"Speaking of poison, sir, can you tell me more about what happened to Mr. Leroy, please?"

"Well, he died of food poisoning, as I told you this afternoon."

"What did he eat?"

"He always ate bad food: burgers, pizza, chocolate bars, soft drinks--we among the faculty were always telling him he needed to eat better, but he'd never listen. I'm amazed he didn't get fat."

"But, sir, that's not food poisoning; that's just a bad diet. What did he eat that killed him?"

Langella sighed, then reluctantly continued. "It isn't a pleasant thing to talk about while enjoying a meal." He sighed again. "An autopsy was done, and in his stomach was found...faeces and urine--not his."

Camilla froze.

"I know--it's disgusting to talk about."

"Oh, it's not that," she said. "I'm worried: whose pee and crap was it? Do you know?"

"No, no one knows," he said. "We also don't know what could have possessed Mr. Leroy to consume so...unappetizing a thing. An analysis was done of his blood, as well as of the ingested urine and faeces. In all three, the doctors found something, well, alien. Something one never finds in blood, urine, or faeces when looked at under a microscope. When thus magnified, what you see apparently looks like a pattern of tiny black ovoid things, like microscopic black eggs swimming in the liquid, darkening it. It's hard to describe, from what I remember the doctor saying."

Camilla remembered peeing in a bottle for Leroy, shitting in his toilet and not flushing it, and the black 'egg' in her dream on Friday night. Beginning to sob, she was convinced she'd killed him.

"Baby, what are you crying for?" Langella said, getting up and walking over to her. He sat on a chair next to her, and she sat on his lap. He put his arms around her.

"It's my fault," she said in sobs. "He drank my pee and ate my shit."

"What?" he said with an incredulous sneer. "How do you know? Did you see him do that?"

"No, but I peed in a bottle of his the last time I was with him, and when I went to his home to fuck, I crapped in his toilet as he watched. He was into that."

"Coprophilia, eh?" he asked as he rocked her shaking body back and forth in his arms. His penis was getting hard.

"He must have eaten and drunk my pee and poo after I left his place." She was crying louder.

"We don't know for sure. It could have been prostitutes' piss and shit. He was often looking for whores, I remember. If anyone gave him a fatal disease, it was one of those women."

"Really? But I had a dream about a black egg that darkens everything around it, just like what the doctor told you."

Sneering again in disbelief, Langella said, "Camilla, I don't know what you're talking about." He gave her a tissue; she wiped her tears and blew her nose.

"Those black things in his blood and pee; maybe they're in mine, too. Maybe I have an STD."

"Nonsense," Langella said, still rocking her back and forth; his hard-on was poking between her legs. "I've never heard of a 'black eggs' STD. Anyway, people don't die of sexually transmitted diseases that quickly, not to my knowledge. You slept with him recently, right?"

"Yeah, but other lovers of mine have died recently, too. Maybe this is a new disease."

"I think you're imagining things. Don't worry so much, sweetie. Sometimes coincidences are just coincidences. Don't jump to conclusions until you know for sure. Come on, let's eat: our food's getting cold."

They finished their dinner and their wine, then went up to his bedroom. She unzipped her dress at the back and let it fall to the floor. Wearing no underwear, the naked girl kicked off her high heels and got on the bed on all fours. Spreading her legs wide and pushing her ass out, she made sure both her vulva and anus were showing; she got her anal lube out of her purse and lay it beside her so he would have a choice of three holes to penetrate.

He got naked and got on the bed behind her; they were in the doggy-style position. He gently pushed his fully-hard cock against her moist vaginal orifice. "Oh, that feels...so good," she sighed as he slowly slid his cock another few inches inside her. "You sure...you want...to fuck me, sir? Ah!" He was three-quarters of the way in now.

"Why not?" he moaned as he pushed his cock all the way in. He pushed it in, the knob poking at her A-spot; and pulled it out, the shaft rubbing against her G-spot.

"What if...you die? Oh!" Her cunt was dripping already.

"I won't die...oh!" He slid his left index finger inside her rectum and massaged her anal walls; this indirectly augmented the stimulation of her vaginal walls, which were electric with gratification. Indeed, too busy squealing and screaming with pleasure, Camilla forgot about Leroy. Her pussy was smiling too much from Langella's cock for her mouth to be frowning about dead lovers. Langella put his right hand on her right breast and gently squeezed it. He pinched the nipple; she responded with a high-pitched squeal. Then he pulled his left finger out of her asshole and put that hand on her left breast. He admired the sight of her wide-open anus as he fucked her. He squeezed both breasts as he continued shoving his cock deep inside her pussy.  

Her staccato squeals got higher and higher, while his thrusts came in faster and more forcefully. Every millimetre of her vaginal walls was being intensely stimulated: his cock fit inside her like fingers in a tight glove. As he continued pushing his cock in and out, he took his hands off her tits and picked up the tube of anal lube. He smeared some lubricant on his finger and slid it in her asshole. Her screams were approaching the whistle register, propelled not only by his cock's thrusts but also by his finger's probing. Finally, she screamed in whistle register and came all over his cock and balls; it dripped copiously all over the middle of the bed.

"Oh, shit," he said. "I've got another mess...to clean up." He pulled his cock, drowning in her come, out of her soaking pussy.

"Sorry," she sighed as she caught her breath. "I'll help...clean it."

"Don't worry, sweetie," he said as he aimed his cock at her wide-open anus. "I'll clean it myself. You're my guest." He pushed his cock against her anal orifice.

She looked back at him as he pushed it in. "Ah!" she squealed as his cock went in a few centimetres. She squinted her eyes and opened her mouth wide open to show her pleasure in receiving his huge cock in her welcoming ass. Her screams of "Oh! Oh! Oh!" got higher and higher the further in he slid his dick. By the time his cock was two-thirds of the way in, she asked him in sighs, "Do you...like how...that feels, sir?"

"Oh, yeah!" he groaned as he pushed it all the way in. As he slid it in and out, he asked, "I'm not...hurting you, am I?"

"No," she moaned as she felt her ass gleefully widening. "I...love it! I want...to please you."

"Oh!" he grunted as he continued fucking her ass. Just as every millimetre of her vaginal walls was being stimulated before, now every millimetre of her rectal walls was being thoroughly massaged by his large cock. His cock in her ass was now like a finger inside a glove that was a bit too tight: but that bit too tight was more than a bit more delightful a sensation. "I...love this," he moaned. "But I'm...at a plateau. I'm not...going to come."

"Let me...blow you, sir," she said. He pulled his cock out of her ass, and she reached for the wet napkins in her purse. He lay on his back; she turned around and wiped the anal lube off his cock. Ready to receive his cock in her mouth, she looked lewdly in his eyes as she kissed the tip of his dick and licked his knob. She continued licking his shaft for a few more seconds, then took his whole cock in her mouth. His manhood, which before was drenched in her come, was now drowning in her saliva: she deep-throated his cock, and her fingers played with his balls, tickling his scrotum and tapping his testes to make them sway alternately like paired pendulums of clocks. She took his cock out of her mouth and began jerking him off while she sucked on his balls. Looking dutifully in his eyes to see how well she was pleasing him, her tongue boxed his testicles, making them rebound gently against her teeth and the roof of her mouth. Her hand continued sliding up and down his rock-hard shaft, and when she took his balls out of her mouth, the dutiful look in her eyes changed to a lascivious smile. Playing with his big dick was fun, to be sure. As she jerked him off, she thought about how, if she were a man, she would probably spend all day, every day, just beating the bishop.

Her gluttonous mouth wrapped itself around his member again, and she deep-throated it while tickling his balls with her fingers. He was approaching orgasm, and his moans were getting louder and louder. His hands caressed her cheeks as she sucked. She wrapped her tongue tightly around his protruding corpus spongiosum, and her wet lips squeezed against the length of his shaft. Finally, he blew his load, and she drank it all up, not missing a single drop. When his penis was spent, she took it out of her mouth. They lay on the bed for a few minutes, catching their breath.

"Thank you, sir," she said, "for giving me...so much...to eat tonight."



Camilla Ch. 046



When Camilla returned home around lunchtime the next day, she saw Candice at her laptop, looking at pictures of nude Camilla on her new porn website. When Camilla came up behind Candice, Candice was looking at a picture of Camilla bent over with her legs spread wide open, her anus and vagina in clear view. Camilla (in the photo), looking upside down from between her legs, grinned back at the camera. Candice was breathing heavily, and Camilla--dropping her red dress on the floor behind Candice--just admired herself in the picture.

"Camilla, you look so hot in these pictures!" Candice said, fingering herself. "Remember what you said yesterday about me doing POV porn with you? I think I'll do it. I'd like to see video of you eating me out."

"Great," Camilla said as she kicked off her high heels. "I'll call Bob later on today. Maybe we can do the video shoot tonight, or soon, anyway."

Turning away from her laptop and admiring Camilla's nudity in the flesh, Candice said, "Speaking of pussy-licking, how about us doing a sort of rehearsal now, Camil?"

"Sorry, baby, I can't. I got a lot to do today," Camilla said as she undid her bun and let her hair drop down to her shoulders.

"But, Camil, it's been half a week since we last made love," Candice said with a frown.

"I'm sorry, sweetie; we will soon. I'll call Bob and get him to do a video of us ASAP--probably tonight. But now I've got a lot to do. I wanna get an appointment with Dr. Singh for another HIV test, or a test for whatever could be in me that's maybe killing off my lovers."

You're killing me emotionally, Candice thought.

"I've also gotta get my trigonometry textbook for next week's summer school classes," Camilla continued. "Then I wanna go to my old tae kwon do school and resume my old lessons; I hope my old teacher is still there--he's so hot. Then I want to go back to my old primary school and see Mr. Finch, one of my old teachers there. I used to have such a crush on him."

"You had a crush on this old teacher," Candice said with an incredulous sneer. "You used to have the hots for that old teacher. How many of your teachers, past and present, have you had a crush on, or wanted to fuck?"

"Well, I don't know exact numbers," Camilla said, trying to calculate how many in her mind. "But of the male teachers, I'd say at least one in five."

"Damn, girl!" Candice was stupefied.

"Gotta change and go," Camilla said, then she showered, brushed her teeth, put red nail polish on her finger- and toenails, and painted her face up brightly like a whore. Then she put on yellow lace panties, white denim shorts, and a white tube top that tightly hugged her breasts. After putting on some high heels and perfume, she grabbed her purse and left the apartment.

Candice, still frowning, lit a marijuana cigarette and looked at more of Camilla's photos and video.

*****************

After running all the errands she'd told Candice about, Camilla went back to her old elementary school to look for Mr. Finch. As she walked down the hall toward his classroom, she looked in one classroom and saw her former grade two teacher, another one of those one in five.

She walked into his classroom and locked the door behind her. He was at his desk writing. "Mr. Gray? Hi, sir!" she said with an ear-to-ear grin.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking up at her. "Do I know you?"

"You used to be my second grade teacher," she said, approaching him. "I'm Camilla Mennon: remember me?"

Rising from his chair and walking up to her, he tried to remember who she was. "I'm not sure; I've taught so many girls over the years." He wished he could remember, for the twinkle in the sexy girl's eye was turning him on. Indeed, he did remember a story circulating among the faculty about a nymphomaniac former student who recently had been roaming their school halls and throwing herself at Mr. Baker and Mr. Finch.

Standing in front of him, she said, "This should help remind you." She put her arms up around the tall teacher's neck; when he put his hands on her hips, she jumped up, squealing with ecstasy as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. "Remember me now? I always used to jump up on you like that."

"Oh, yeah, little Camilla," he said with a smile. "It wasn't exactly this way back then, though: you were lighter, and when you did it, it was all sweet and innocent. You never jerked your thighs as you are now, as if we were making love." His hands were on her gyrating ass, holding her up.

Giggling lewdly at his recognition of the obvious sexual meaning of what she was doing, she said, "Well, I'm 18 years old now, and I can be as naughty as I like with you, my handsome teacher." She continued thrusting aggressively against his thighs. "You're so strong, sir: you can still lift me." She unwrapped one leg and pushed it against his groin, feeling his large erection. Always looking straight up in his eyes and with her mouth open, she unwrapped her other leg and slowly slid down to the floor, both of her legs now pushing against the big bulge in his pants. "Ooh!" she yelped from the sensation of his obviously large cock. Then she pulled him down by his necktie to bring his head to her; she whispered in his ear, "It's so big." She giggled lewdly again.

*****************

Two male teachers were watching Camilla and Gray from outside his classroom. "That's Camilla, the slut," the first teacher said. "She must have been the one Baker and Finch fucked. And to think, I can still remember teaching her back in grade three, when she was completely innocent."

"How quickly they grow, eh?" the second teacher said. "So she's been throwing herself at all the male teachers here?"

"Yeah," the first teacher said. "Easy pussy. Now it's Gray's turn. I daresay, soon it will be my turn."

"And mine, too," the second teacher said. "Even if she'd never had me as a teacher before."

Noticing Gray turn his head to look out the window of his classroom door, the two teachers quickly walked away.

*****************

Looking up at Gray, whose chest was level with Camilla's eyes, she said, "You're so tall and I'm so short." Then she giggled like a little girl. "If school's over, why are you all still here?"

"Administrative stuff," he said. "Meetings and all. Today's the last day, I hope."

"Ooh!" she said suddenly, swaying her hips uncomfortably. "I gotta go pee-pee. Can you take me to a toilet, please, sir?"

"Sure," he said, and he took her out of the classroom over to a teacher's washroom, opening the door for her. As she walked in, she unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, revealing some of her yellow panties to him. He looked down, savouring every detail he saw.

"Thank you, sir," she said as her shorts dropped to the floor. He, making sure no one in the hall saw him, followed her in and locked the door.

"Those are pretty panties, sweetie," he panted in a low voice.

"Really?" she said with a high-pitched voice and a grin. "Thank you." She giggled and bent over to draw his eyes to her ass. Then she pulled down her panties and kicked off her high heels. She turned around so he could see her wispy brown pubic hair, and she sat on the toilet. As she peed, she looked up at him with a feigned look of naive innocence--the wide-eyed, wide-open mouth of a little girl, as if she didn't at all know that peeing was something done privately. He looked down between her wide-open legs and watched the golden juice sprinkling loudly into the toilet bowl water. He got his hands on her tube top and pulled it up slowly to remove it; she looked in his eyes acquiescently as her large breasts were revealed, totally allowing him to pull the tube top up her raised arms and off her body. Now completely naked, Camilla reached for the toilet paper and wiped her vulva dry. Then she got out her perfumed wet napkins and cleaned herself. She brought her legs up as she wiped herself so he could see her pink pussy. As she continued wiping, she opened her labia wide for the viewing pleasure of his greedy eyes; her purple vaginal opening was almost as agape as his mouth.

"Oh, sweetie," he sighed in awe at what he was looking at. "You are truly beautiful." She grinned and giggled her thanks.

Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door. "Mr. Gray?" a man's voice said.

"Yeah?" an agitated Gray said.

"The principal wants to talk to you in her office, right away," the man said urgently. "It can't wait."

"OK, give me a few minutes," Gray said, then whispered to Camilla, "I gotta go."

"Before you go," she whispered, "lemme show you something." She got up, turned around, spread her legs, and bent over so both her anus and vagina were showing. He licked his lips as he stared at the new, brown hole. Holding one of her Luvlee's name cards, she put her hand between her legs to give the card to him. Still bent over and looking upside-down at him from between her legs, she said. "That's where I work. Come over and see me tomorrow night, OK?"

"OK," he said. "Sorry: gotta go." Opening the door slowly at first to make sure no one was in the hall to see him, he left the washroom to go to the principal's office.

Shrugging her shoulders, Camilla put her clothes on, left the washroom, and went to Finch's classroom.

He wasn't there when she walked inside, so she went over to the back area where his bed was. She looked around the area: the bed lay to the left as one goes in the niche; to the right was a sink with coffee and mugs on the counter. Bemused and eagerly waiting for Finch to come in, she didn't notice the sound of very soft footsteps as someone crept up behind her. Then she heard soft breathing: Mr. Finch is here at last, she thought. She felt soft kisses on the back right side of her neck, and hands gently touching her arms. She moaned at the pleasurable sensation. Soon those hands went under her arms and slowly pulled down her tube top, exposing her breasts. The hands cupped and caressed her breasts, then gently pinched her nipples. Her pussy was moist with desire: what magic fingers and lips! Mr. Finch must be sorry for squeezing my tits so hard last time, she thought; he's so gentle now!

******************

Gray walked into the principal's office. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"No," she said, sneering at his question. "Who told you I wanted to talk to you about something?"

******************

Those hands massaged her breasts so pleasurably, as did those lips on her neck, that at first Camilla didn't notice her shorts being unbuttoned and unzipped. When she felt a light tugging down on them, she woke up from her ecstasy to realize two men were enjoying her! She looked down and gasped at the surprising sight of Mr. Keyes, her old grade three teacher, squatting and pulling her shorts down. Looking back, she expected to see Finch behind her; her breasts wiggled freely when those magic hands had let go of them, and her nipples were pointy and fully erect. She was shocked to see that the man who had been feeling her tits was someone she'd never seen before!

"Mr. Keyes?" she said in a state of aroused disorientation.

"Oh, Camilla, sweetie," kneeling Keyes sighed in awe at the pretty pair he saw jiggling from above. "Your tits are so beautiful!"

"Thank you," she said, still shocked, yet horny all the same. Looking back at her groper, she asked, "And you are...?"

"Mr. Dawson is a new teacher here," Keyes said as he removed her high heels. "He's been with us for the past two years now. Mr. Dawson, Camilla; Camilla, Mr. Dawson."

"Nice to meet you," she said, reaching behind and shaking Dawson's hand.

"Enchanted," Dawson said as he looked up and down at her naked body. "More than you can imagine."

Keyes then pulled her feet through the leg holes of her panties. She was now completely naked: Keyes looked up and down in adoration of her flawless frontal nudity. "Oh, sweetie, your whole body is so beautiful. How did you grow from a sweet, skinny little girl to such a sex goddess?"

"I don't know," she said, her eyes and mouth still agape from the surprise she'd got. "Good genes, I guess."

"You can say that again," Dawson said as he ogled her callipygian behind. Both men were lecherously licking their lips and studying every inch of her bare skin.

"What's it like in here?" Keyes asked, reaching between her legs. He fingered her wet pussy aggressively, making her bend forward. She moaned as his index and long fingers went up her cunt. "Oh, this is nice."

"Thank you," she said, not at all indignant at the men's lust, and still reeling from their surprise accosting of her. "What do you guys want me to do?"

Dawson opened her buttocks and eyed her anus. "Your asshole is really pretty, Camilla," he said, stretching the orifice wide open.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "There's anal lube in my purse." She bent over to get her purse; Keyes, still squatting, watched her breasts come down closer to his face.

Dawson grabbed her by the legs and lifted them up towards him; this made her fall forward, her breasts falling on Keyes's happy face. Keyes grabbed her by the arms to break her fall, but shook her so her breasts, on either side of his head, would slap against his cheeks. He took the left one in his mouth and sucked it briefly; then he put her on the floor and got up. She was now on the floor on all fours; Dawson had her legs spread wide open so her pussy and asshole were on display. She gave Dawson the anal lube, and he lubed his cock as he licked her asshole, getting a generous amount of his saliva on it. His tongue enjoyed feeling the wrinkly texture of her brown asshole, and he admired the total absence of any faecal odour. Then he lubed her rectum and pushed his hard cock against the orifice. Meanwhile, Keyes pulled his cock out of his pants; it got fully erect as she wiped it clean with her wet napkins. When Dawson had pushed his cock two inches inside her asshole, she opened her mouth wide and groaned with pleasure; she turned her head so he could see her acquiescent reaction. Then Keyes turned her head back towards him and put his cock in her mouth. Dawson pushed his cock in another two inches, and her mouth widened even more in reaction; Keyes took advantage of this and put his cock all the way in. She was deep-throating him, but not gagging--he was impressed. Dawson pushed in all the way now, and began sliding in and out of her tight rectum. Both men were moaning with delight at the amazing lover they were sharing. Camilla played with Keyes's balls, and stimulated his cock in as accelerated a manner as she could; similarly, she squeezed her ass around Dawson's dick to hurry up his orgasm. Indeed, she didn't want these men to be fucking her ass and mouth for too long a time: she was waiting for Finch, and imagined that him seeing her with Dawson and Keyes would ruin the mood for Finch.

Her accelerations of their excitement were working, and they would orgasm in a matter of seconds. She pulled Keyes's cock out of her mouth to lick his shaft and kiss his knob; he blew his load all over her face. She moaned softly and submissively as each splash of come soaked her face: the first shot hit her nose; the second, her right eye; the third, her lips; the fourth, her left cheek. All the while receiving his ejaculations, she continued squeezing Dawson's cock every time it went deep inside her. "I'm gonna come!" he moaned, and when he pulled back and out she tipped his cock up, not letting it go back in her ass: he splashed his come all over her round buttocks. The first shot splattered against her anal cleft; the second, on her left buttock; the third, on her right buttock, and the last, on her left buttock again, only further down, along her gluteal sulcus.

They wiped the remaining come that dripped from their cocks on those parts of her face and ass not yet soaked with come; then they put their spent members back in their pants and zipped themselves up. Camilla took two of her Luvlee's name cards out of her purse and gave each man one. "I'm a lap-dancer there; please come over and see me sometime. I'll be there tomorrow night."

"Surely," Dawson said.

"See you Thursday night," Keyes said, and both men left.

Though Camilla didn't come during her sex with them, she was very excited, and she eagerly anticipated Finch's coming into the classroom. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, and the school hadn't been closed yet. Would he show up? She hoped so. She took a cloth and some paper towels from the counter by the sink opposite the bed; she used them to wipe the come off her ass and face. Then she washed her face with soap, and put on more make-up: bright red lipstick, dark purple eye shadow, thick mascara, and pink blush. Admiring herself in the mirror above the sink, she, still nude, said, "Whore goddess."

Suddenly, she heard the door open and footsteps walking inside. They sounded like a man's shoes, not like high heels. Please be Mr. Finch, she thought. The footsteps came closer to the back niche area where she was. Breathing heavily, she turned towards where the man would walk in and see her frontal nudity. He came in: indeed, it was Finch!

"Camilla," he said with a smile of lecherous delight. "How good to see them--uh, you, again."

Giggling, she looked down at the tits he was obviously admiring and said, "Thanks. Good to see you, too. Wanna fuck me?"

"Of course, though I don't have much time," he said. "My wife will be here within the hour. Maybe we can squeeze in a quickie."

"And squeeze in a dickie?" she said, lying on the bed and spreading her legs for him.

"And squeezing some tittie," he sighed as he unzipped and pulled down his pants. He got on top of her in the missionary position, and pushed the tip of his cock against her vaginal orifice. She sighed with delight as he slowly pushed his cock further in. He grabbed her breasts and kissed her on the lips as he continued sliding his cock inside her pussy. Her sighs and squeals rose in pitch and volume; he turned on the radio to drown out the sound of their moans. He pushed it all the way in, and she squealed as though it had been painful, though it was extremely pleasurable. After four thrusts of his cock, the knob poking against her A-spot, she came. He kept sliding in and out of her dripping wet cunt, and continued squeezing her breasts; his excitement was so great that he was oblivious to how sometimes his squeezes hurt her. Still, she tolerated the pain, since his cock was driving her wild. The knob kept poking against her A-spot, and the thickness of his shaft was always rubbing against her G-spot; she came a second time. He pulled up her right breast so he could put the nipple in his mouth; he sucked on it for several seconds as he continued shoving his cock in and out. Finally, he came inside her.

He pulled his spent penis out, put it back in his pants, and they rested awhile, slowly catching their breath. A half and hour had gone by during their fuck.

After another ten minutes of resting and talking, Finch felt ready to have more fun. Camilla, always naked, had her back to him as she put her make-up and tube of anal lube back in her purse. He came up behind her and fondled her breasts as Dawson had before, though not nearly as sensitively as Dawson had. He kissed her on the neck and shoulder, and she moaned softly, squealing slightly at the roughness of his grabbing hands.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Finch by the shoulder and pulled him back, turning him around and making him let go of her tits. A once-again startled and disoriented Camilla also turned around to see what was going on; her breasts shook like two hills of jelly, and she revealed her frontal nudity to yet another person to whom she hadn't been formally introduced--Finch's wife.



Camilla Ch. 047



Naked Camilla was frightened out of her wits to hear Finch's wife screaming at him for his shocking infidelity.

"For Christ's sake, you think you know your husband of twenty years, but you don't!" she yelled. "You bastard!"

Camilla threw on her clothes as quickly as she could and ran for the door, outside of which was a crowd of curious teachers listening to the fight inside. By the time Camilla had got out of Mr. Finch's classroom, she'd heard his wife shout 'divorce' at least a dozen times. Camilla fought her way out from the crowd of teachers, who included Mr. Gray, Mr. Keyes, and Mr. Dawson, all of whom smiled lewdly at her, knowing exactly what obviously had happened. She was shaking with fear and embarrassment.  

The nastiness of that confrontation, however, made her feel mysteriously ready to face her mother with the truth about Troy's lusting after her. In fact, her mother's fiance sent her a text message as she was running out of the front doors of the school: he wanted to see her that night; he'd made an excuse about seeing his family to get away from Collette. Camilla texted him back, agreeing to have him come over to her apartment at 9 PM.

Then she received a call from Bob. "Hi Camilla," he said. "Do you want to do more photos and video tonight?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I'm glad you called, because I was hoping we could do some POV porn with my friend Candice, all from her point of view."

"Really?" he said. "You're lucky, because I have a special camera for exactly that kind of video. It's a brand new invention a friend of mine made. Meet me in my apartment at six, and I'll show it to both of you."

"OK," she said. "We'll be there at six."

She then phoned Candice and told her she'd drive her to Bob's apartment. When she got home, Candice was ready to go, and eager to be given head by Camilla. They arrived at Bob's apartment at about 6:10 PM.

He showed them the POV camera. "This is what my friend made," he said. "It's a prototype for a POV camera he plans to sell. The goggles are the lens: it responds to your eye movements, Candice, so whatever you're looking at, that's exactly what's filmed. So as you're making love with Camilla, always remember to look at something sexy: her pussy, her ass, her tits, her come-shot, your fingers inside her. And though there is stabilization circuitry in this camera, it can do only so much; so try not to shake too much as you're making love, or else the video will be too jittery to enjoy."

"Okay," Candice said, and after getting naked she put the camera goggles on. A wire connected them to the camera itself, which Bob controlled from several feet away from where the girls would make love. Candice lay on her back on the bed (the same one Camilla lay on on Sunday afternoon during her first photo shoot with Bob, and with Leo watching). Camilla got naked and put her face between Candice's legs for some cunnilingus. Candice looked down at Camilla, and Bob pressed play on the camera.

This was the resulting video. Cast: Camilla--herself; you--Candice (i.e., everything was seen from Candice's point of view, so you, the watcher, see what she saw).

Camilla, looking lewdly in your eyes and smirking, begins licking your pussy. You moan and gyrate your hips, but always keep your head reasonably still. You delight in looking down at your tits, which you cup in your hands and fondle, intermittently pinching your nipples. You also see your ginger pussy, the pubic hair being wet with Camilla's saliva. You put your right breast in your mouth and suck on it, moaning louder and louder as Camilla's lips and tongue thrill you.

Then you gesture to Camilla to come up to you. She slowly comes up, kissing your pubes and your belly. Then she reaches your large breasts and begins sucking on the left one and fondling the right one, always looking at you lasciviously. She tickles your left nipple with her tongue and your right nipple with her fingers. You tilt your head slightly to the right and watch her pinch your right nipple; you squeal and breathe heavily.

She brings her body around and she and you are in the sixty-nine position, her ass in your face. As you lick her pussy, you look directly at her up-close asshole, admiring every wrinkle on those brown, puckered lips. Then you look down at her wide-open vagina, which you're spreading with your fingers. You moan and pant at her licking, and your voice and breath vibrate against her pussy. You look back up at her asshole and stretch it open with your fingers; then you slide your right index finger inside. You push it in and pull it out as you continue licking her cunt; then you pull your finger out and start licking her asshole. You admire her upper anal cleft as you lick, practically counting the goose-bumps and tiny brown moles. You slide your tongue in and out of her anus a few times, and lick around the orifice. Then you go down and lick her clitoris: her vaginal opening is mere millimetres from your eyes. As you lick and suck on her hard clit, you can hear her squealing and screaming louder and higher. Finally, she comes a waterfall on your face, and drops of jizz splash on the camera lens.

Bob pressed stop. He viewed the whole video on his computer monitor.

"That was great," he said. "Now, Camilla, we have a new category for your porn website: lesbian."

"Excellent," she panted.

"You did a good job keeping your head still, Candice," he said. "We should do some video showing both of you in action, so the viewers can see your pretty face."

"No thanks," Candice said. "I'm a little too shy to have people know I've done porn."

"Very well," Bob said. "Come on over and see what's new on the website. You can see the responses you're getting to your pictures and video, Camilla." The girls went over to his computer to see the website, www.camillacome.com. The website had only existed for a few days, and there were already thousands of views, and hundreds of paying customers. Camilla was thrilled.

Camilla posed for more pictures, while Candice, now dressed, watched. Bob took photos of Camilla stuffing dildos and butt-plugs inside herself, in lingerie, on the toilet peeing, and in the bathtub washing herself. After an hour of posing, Camilla was ready to leave with Candice. Candice went out the door and waited for Camilla in the hall; Camilla, now dressed, picked up the POV goggles and put them on Bob's head.

"I think they look good on you, Bob," she said with a salacious twinkle in her eyes.

"Um, maybe we should keep our relationship professional," he said with a mixture of jitters and excitement.

"We will, I promise you," she said. "I wanna do more POV porn."

"As fun as that would be for me," he said nervously, "I've had bad experiences with models when I got too...close to them. The working relationship tends to fall apart when I fu..."

She put her finger on his lips, not letting him finish his sentence. "Don't worry about that," she purred. "It's all work--work that we enjoy." She smiled lewdly at him, and walked out of his apartment.

******************

When the girls got back to their apartment, Camilla kicked off her high heels and asked, "What are your plans for tonight, Candice?"

"I'm going over to Francine's to get more dope," Candice said.

"Maybe you should take it easy on the drugs, Candice."

"Maybe you should take it easy with all your lovers, Camilla."

"Oh, well, never mind. Can you do me a favour?" Camilla asked as she pulled off her tube top.

"Sure, what?"

"Call my mom at 11 PM, no earlier. Tell her to come here. I wanna talk to her about something." Camilla dropped her shorts to the floor; she was in only her yellow panties now.

"I'll do one better than that, Camilla. I'll drive her here. I should be finished at Francine's around 10:30 or so."

"Even better; you can let her in the apartment. I don't think I'll be able to get the door." Camilla's panties fell to the floor, and she pulled her feet out of the leg-holes. She was now naked.

"OK," Candice said, remembering what had happened on Monday and correctly guessing what Camilla planned to do. "See you at eleven." Candice got her car keys and left.

Camilla cleaned her pussy in the shower and put on some bright make-up. She put her hair in pig tails and waited for her stepfather-to-be to arrive, though she didn't imagine her mom going through with the wedding once Troy's infidelity was without any doubt. Troy arrived at about 9:10. She opened the door and allowed his eyes to pour all over her luscious frontal nudity.

"Hi, Daddy," she said with a look of feigned wide-eyed innocence. "Come in."

"Oh, sweetie," he panted. "You have such a beautiful body." He walked in, and she closed the door behind him.

He, now behind her, put his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them. He kissed her softly on the neck, and she moaned and fingered her clitoris. He slowly bent his knees and kissed her in a straight line down her back; then he kissed her soft buttocks, first along her outer anal cleft, then all over each cheek, and after that along her gluteal sulcus. Then he opened her buttocks and kissed her all over her inner anal cleft, his kisses getting closer and closer to her anus. Finally, he reached her anus, and pressed his lips hard on it in a long, passionate kiss, as if it were a pair of brown, puckered lips. She sighed softly as he kissed her there, spreading her legs and putting her hands up against the door. Then he licked her asshole eagerly.

He straightened up. "Can you forgive me for what I'm doing?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?" She looked up at him like an innocent child...if only she were.

"I'll never be satisfied until I do," he panted. "I love your mother so much, and I know this is so wrong, but I can't stop myself." He picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he lay her on her back. Then he put his face between her legs and began licking her already wet pussy. His tongue tickled her clit, and his fingers went inside her cunt. Then he wrapped his lips tightly around her rock-hard clitoris and sucked on it; she, squealing, ran her hands through his hair. He slowly moved up her body, kissing her pubic area, her belly, and her breasts. Then he sucked on the left one while fondling the right one and pinching its nipple. After doing this for several seconds, his hand and lips switched breasts. She felt his groin area, squeezing the hidden hard-on in his pants. When she unzipped his fly, he got on his back and she got on top of him in the 69 position.

He resumed licking and fingering her pussy as she pulled his fully-erect phallus from his pants. Finally, she would know what an intimate part of his body looked like after it being only she who was always undressed for him. Seeing his cock for the first time, she was impressed with its size. She put it in her mouth and deep-throated it. Then she pulled it out of her mouth and licked and kissed the knob. He raised his head and licked her anus while still rubbing his fingers against her vaginal walls. The tip of his long finger tickled and pressed against her A-spot. She played with his balls and wrapped her upper lip tightly around his protruding corpus spongiosum.

Soon, they came almost simultaneously, her soaking his face with her come and him ejaculating all in her mouth: she drank every drop. After resting and catching their breath, she said, "I gotta go pee-pee, Daddy."

He put his spent member in his pants and zipped them up; then he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He gently rested her bottom on the toilet seat. She spread her legs, looked up at him, and began peeing. He looked down between her legs and watched the yellow liquid leak from her urethra down into the toilet bowl water. She moaned her relief.

"Where's Mommy?" she asked.

"Camilla," he said with a slight sneer. "Aren't you, 18 years of age, a little old to be calling her 'Mommy'?"

"Well, she always treats me like a child, so it seems appropriate," she said caustically. "Besides, men seem to think I sound sexier if I talk like a little girl."

"Desire certainly is childish," he said. "I wish I had the maturity to resist you."

She finished her peeing, and reached for the toilet paper. "You don't have to resist me, Daddy. I like pleasing you." She wiped herself dry, then got up and flushed the toilet. "But where is she?" She went into the shower stall and turned on the water.

"She's at home," he said, reaching for the soap. "I told her I had urgent family business at my parents' home, something personal that only I could talk about with them, so she allowed me to leave." He lathered up the soap and began cleaning her vagina. "She had a look of suspicion in her eyes; I know I'm taking an enormous risk being here with you, but I can't stop myself. I really love your mother, you must believe me. This is so terribly wrong, what I'm doing. I feel really guilty; but sin is addictive." He rinsed her off, and she got out of the shower stall. He got a towel and dried her off. His cock was hard again. "Sweetie, can I put it inside you?"

"I can't wait," she sighed. He picked her up and carried her back to the bed.

He lay on his back and pulled out his cock. She got on top of him in the cowgirl position and aimed his dick at her ever-moist vaginal opening. She took his cock in slowly, inch by delicious inch, and sighed in ever higher pitches as it went in deeper. In anticipation of her copious coming, he pulled his pants down: this was just in time, for when his cock was all the way in, she screamed in whistle register and sprayed her cooze all over his groin area. She kept going up and down on his cock, squealing staccato notes in the sopranino range, and jizzing intermittently; he enjoyed watching her large breasts bounce wildly. "They are so pretty," he groaned as he watched. "My lovely step-daughter."

"My handsome Daddy," she said with jiggling intonation as she continued fucking him. He grabbed her breasts and fondled them for a while. Then he moved his hands down to her ass and squeezed her buttocks, guiding her ass up and down on his cock.

After her fourth orgasm, he pulled his soaking cock out; she got off the bed and knelt beside it. He sat on the side of the bed, his legs on either side of her, and put his cock between her tits. She wrapped her soft, smooth breasts around his rock-hard shaft and slid them up and down on it. "Do you like that, Daddy?" she asked as she tit-fucked him.

"Oh, yes," he moaned. He took her breasts in his hands, and she played with his balls, shaking them quickly but gently. She always had her face pointed down in anticipation of his ejaculation, which came after a minute more of tit-fucking. She received splashes of come on her nose, left cheek, right eye, and chin. "Doesn't that look pretty," he sighed.

"I'll leave it on my face if you want me to, Daddy," she said, his come dripping from her nose and chin. She wiped some of it out of her eye, and they rested again. He took off his pants, went into the shower stall, and cleaned her come off his groin area. When he came out and dried himself, she came into the bathroom, his come still dripping off her face. She sat on the toilet and peed again. When she finished, he reached for the toilet paper and pulled some off the roll. He rolled the piece and reached down to wipe her pussy dry. "Oh, thank you, Daddy," she said as he was wiping. He was hard again; she got up and flushed the toilet. "Time to clean my pussy in the shower again."

"Oh, no, sweetie," he insisted. "Not this time."

"But, Daddy," she said. "I'm so stinky down there."

"No, baby," he said. "You're so fragrant. I like the smell of your pee." He picked her up and carried her back to the bed. He lay her on all fours; she spread her legs wide open so he could see her asshole.

She gave him her anal lube. "Wanna put it in my poo-hole, Daddy?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," he grunted. He lubed his cock and her rectum. He pushed his erection against her anal orifice, slowly coaxing it open, and slid it a few inches inside. She looked back at him, squinting and with her mouth agape as she welcomed his cock in. He slid it in a few inches further, and she moaned in unison with him. Finally, he pushed it all the way in. He slid it in and out, looking down at her beautiful ass. Then he put his hands on her tits and squeezed them as he continued fucking her ass for several minutes.

He was in such ecstasy that he didn't hear, above his and Camilla's moans, the sound of footsteps in the apartment, coming straight for the bedroom. The bedroom door swung open, loudly striking the wall. Both Camilla and Troy quickly turned their heads around to see who was there. Troy had a look of white terror on his face; Camilla wickedly grinned through the come drying on her face.

Candice frowned and looked away. Collette stared at the lovers with a look of absolute fury in her eyes.



Camilla Ch. 048



Troy guiltily pulled his cock out of Camilla's arse as Collette, her mother and his fiance, angrily watched.

"You were fucking my daughter in the ass?!" Collette yelled, shocked at the sight of Camilla's stretched-open asshole.

Quickly losing his erection, Troy put his underwear and pants on. Knowing there was nothing he could say to placate Collette, he timidly remained silent, trembling and staring at his feet. Beginning to sob, he put on his socks and shoes.

Camilla got off the bed and stood proudly nude in front of her mother, even getting closer so Collette could see what was on her face: Troy's still drying come.

"You jizzed on my daughter's face?!" Collette shouted with tears in her eyes. Camilla smugly smiled at her mother. "You wipe that smirk off your face, you little bitch!" Collette slapped Camilla hard on the face when she said that last word.

"Ms. Mennon,..." Candice said, anxious to stop the fighting.

"Stay out of this, Candice!" Collette snapped. After taking a few deep breaths to collect herself, she calmly said, "Troy, get in your car and drive home; we'll talk about this in a minute. Candice, I'll need you to drive me home, for I need to talk to you about a few things, too. As for this little whore," she glared at her daughter, "she needs to be left alone for a while."

"Collette, I..." Troy stuttered.

"Troy, go home!" Collette screamed. He hurried out to his car and drove back to Collette's home. Calmly again, she said, "Candice, please go out to your car and wait for me. I'll be there in a minute."

"Ms. Mennon, please don't..." Candice said, almost crying.

"I won't hurt Camilla," Collette calmly said. Candice left.

Collette stood in front of her naked daughter and pulled out some Kleenex from her purse. "I know what you were trying to do," she coldly said as she began wiping Troy's come off of Camilla's face. "But you didn't succeed. Sorry to disappoint. Remember, you're the unforgiving one, not me." She finished wiping Camilla's face.

"Aw, Mommy," Camilla said with a smart-ass look in her eyes. "I like having your fiance's come on my face."

"You want a gooey face?" Collette asked with a bitter grin. "Here." She spat on Camilla's nose, then left the apartment.

Camilla sat on the bed and sobbed.

******************

When Collette and Candice walked up into the bedroom of Collette's home, Troy, still crying, was there packing his things. "Stop packing," Collette said calmly. "You're staying; nothing's changed between us."

"What?" Troy said in shock. "B-but after what you just saw,..."

"Troy, I forgive you," she blurted out. Surprise shone from both Troy's and Candice's faces. "Just don't fuck my daughter ever again." She sat on the bed and in exasperation took a deep breath.

"I don't understand," he said. "That was too easy."

"Troy, my forgiving you for doing what you just did, so soon before our wedding, is as far away from easy as anything could be," she snapped. "The fact is, she seduced you, not vice versa. She wanted to stop me from marrying you: it didn't work, because I love you. Her punishment is knowing she has a stepfather in spite of her efforts; your punishment is looking at my face for the rest of our married lives, knowing what you did." She kicked off her shoes and lay on her back on the bed.

"How is having a stepfather a punishment for Camilla?" Candice asked. She sat on the side of the bed.

"She absolutely doesn't want one, that's how," Collette explained. "In her mind, no one can replace her father, whom she's always loved to excess. She's tried ruining my marriage plans before, tempting away my previous boyfriends and fiances. Camilla never actually had sex with them...at least I don't think she ever did...but she's a sexy girl, and she uses her--assets--to get whatever she wants. Troy, you're a man, with a man's weaknesses. You didn't resist her because you couldn't: she made sure of that. Anyway, she hates me, she's always hated me, and she'll never forgive me for taking her away from her father."

"Collette, you've only told me about your divorce with Agape in general terms," Troy said. "What happened, exactly?"

"My nymphomania is what happened," Collette said, putting her hand on her forehead and brushing her hair back. She exhaled loudly, then continued explaining. "Now you know where Camilla gets it from: like mother, like daughter. I met her father Agape, or Aga, as I always called him, back when we were both in university, during the fourth year of our undergraduate studies. He was my boyfriend: Aga Mennon, what a sweet man. We made love one night, and he got me pregnant with Camilla. We, such good Catholics, didn't believe in abortions, so we got married. Thus I became Collette Madeleine Mennon, no longer Collette M. Nestra. He was a good husband, and great in bed--he was hung like John Holmes, let me tell you. But I was unhappy being married so young while all my friends were free and sexually active. So I cheated on Aga--many times."

Next, Collette described one encounter she'd had in her home with a man with whom she'd been having an affair. It was a Friday afternoon, when Agape was at work and little six-year-old Camilla was at school. Though Collette didn't go into any graphic sexual detail when telling Troy and Candice about the encounter, Collette's photographic memory--another trait Camilla inherited from her--allowed her to remember what had happened in vivid detail...

Assuming they'd never get caught, and thrilled at the danger of the possibility, then-28-year-old Collette brought a handsome, muscular man, 30-year-old Angus Thass, into her home at about 2 that Friday afternoon. They raced up into the bedroom. He pushed her up against a wall by the bed; both of them were breathing heavily and rapidly. He tore open her dress shirt: the buttons flew off, and her large breasts were now protected only by an ornately designed, grey lace brassiere. She frantically undid his pants as he unhooked her bra. Her breasts wiggled with freedom once exposed to his hungry eyes; her reddish-pink nipples were erect, and there were similar goose bumps on her areolae. She pulled her arms out of her shirt and bra, and he shoved his face between her breasts. She squeezed them against his cheeks and he undid her pants. He pulled them down while sucking on her right tit. She pulled his pants down. She took off his necktie and undid the buttons on his dress shirt while he pulled down her grey panties.

As she pulled his shirt off, he looked up and down at her delicious nakedness. "Oh, Collette," he sighed. "You're too hot."

Curvaceous, callipygian, and buxom, as Camilla would be in ten years, Collette had wispy black pubic hair to match the colour of the long black hair on her pretty head, and she had piercing eyes of the same colour. She was a sensuous young Latina, and while Agape's large cock had given her plenty of pleasure, she craved variety.

She pulled Angus' boxer shorts down to reveal his thick, seven-inch erection. Her eyes almost popped out of her head the first second she saw it; she was delighted to see it pointing straight at her wet pussy. "Oh, Angus," she moaned. "That's gonna feel so good inside me."

He took off his shoes and socks, and she was about to kick off her high heels when he stopped her. "Please, baby, no," he said. "Leave your heels on: I have a fetish for them."

"Anything you say, honey," she panted. The lovers took a few seconds to look at and admire the flawless perfection of each others' bodies--his muscles, and her curves; not a millimetre of unwanted fat. Then they rushed to the bed.

She got on her back and raised up her outstretched legs. He got between them, on his knees, and aimed his cock at her cunt. He got on top of her, in the missionary position, and slid it in slowly. She screamed like a banshee as she felt him filling her hole, leaving no vaginal cavity unstimulated. His thrusts were quick and aggressive; he grabbed her tits as he fucked her. She grabbed his arms and felt his muscles as she received his manhood. He grunted and she screamed in short, staccato squeals as the tip of his cock pecked at her A-spot. After several minutes of hard fucking, she came; but he was still rock-hard and ready for more.

He got off of her and sat on the side of the bed. She got off the bed and squatted between his legs, taking his cock into her mouth. She sucked her come off his long, thick shaft, then pulled it out and kissed and licked the knob. She held his scrotum in her hand and with her fingers made his balls alternately kick back and forth in a lewd burlesque. His corpus spongiosum was protruding, and she curved her tongue around the tube to hug it tightly while her wet lips were squeezed around his shaft. His moans and sighs grew louder and higher in pitch as he approached orgasm. He looked down at her golden coloured high heels, admiring how they augmented the beauty of her feet.

All their excitement, as well as the noise they were making, caused them not to hear someone coming into the house at an unexpectedly early time. Footsteps weren't heard coming hurriedly up the stairs, and right when Angus was about to come, the bedroom door opened. A soft, gentle voice called out, "Mommy?"

Collette pulled Angus' cock out of her mouth fearfully and turned her head to her left to look at her shocked daughter. He splashed his come all over the right side of Collette's face. Sobbing, little Camilla ran down the stairs and out of the house.

"Oh my God," Candice said. "That explains everything about Camilla. She must have been traumatized."

"Yeah," Collette said with a shameful frown and another loud sigh. "So you see, I got what I deserved tonight. That's why I forgive you, Troy. You see, I'm no better than Camilla, and she knows it. That's why she was so brazen about what she did. That's also why I allowed you to fuck her, Troy. I knew it would happen sooner or later, and I had to do away with my guilt somehow. God damn her school for letting all the kids go home early that day!

"Anticipating her telling her father what I'd done, I had to act fast. I didn't want to lose everything in a divorce because of my adultery, so I had to discredit Aga. I falsely accused him of molesting Camilla. Though of course no evidence was found to convict him--Aga is paradoxically as saintly as he is endowed--my lie prejudiced the judge against him, and I got custody of our daughter, I got the house as you can see around you, and I even got a restraining order against Aga."

"Oh, Collette," Troy said in shock. "How could you?"

"I know, what I did was wrong," Collette continued. "Well, tonight showed us that everything that goes around comes around. I've been punished for what I did with having to put up with Camilla's bad behaviour all these years. I'd thought putting her into an all-Catholic girls school would tame her: fat lot of good that did. She's even worse now. I'm starting to think that what she really needs to cure the slut inside her is simply to be with her dad again. Ever since he was taken out of her life, she's been looking for love in all the wrong places. I can't believe she actually became a stripper. But Aga's OK; he's teaching somewhere in Ontario now, I think."

Candice suddenly stood up in surprise. "Camilla's dad is a teacher?"

"Oh yeah," Collette said. "He's a professor of English literature in a university somewhere around Toronto or Hamilton, I think."

"Just a minute, Ms. Mennon," Candice said, walking toward the door. "I wanna get something out of my car." She rushed out of the house.

"I did a terrible thing, I know," Collette said. "But that was over ten goddamn years ago. Why can't Camilla just let it go? I wanted to be a good mother to her, but she always made it so difficult for me. She needs her dad: I'm sure of that now."

Candice hurried back into the house and back up into the bedroom with her school yearbook. "Ms. Mennon, you need to see this." She opened the yearbook in front of Collette and showed her a page with all the photos, in colour, of the faculty.

"Why are you showing me this?" Collette asked.

"Camilla has a thing for teachers," Candice explained. "She's fucked all these men." Candice pointed out Mr. Williams, Mr. Knowles, Mr. Burgess, Mr. Langella, Mr. Hanson, Mr. Pierce, Mr. Fulson, Mr. Johnson, Mr. Phillips, Mr. Leroy, Mr. Matotek, and Mr. Rudolph.

"Jesus Christ," Collette and Troy said together.

"She fucked all of them?" Collette asked.

"Yeah, but she had an especially big crush on him," Candice said as she pointed out Mr. Grisham. "When he broke it off with her, she took quite a while to get over it."

"Wait a minute," Collette said. "Let me look at that picture up close." She brought the yearbook up to her face to see Grisham's portrait better. Then she took an old photo out of her wallet and put it next to that of Grisham.

"Wow," Candice said. "Your photo looks like it could be of Mr. Grisham ten years ago. Is that who I think he is?"

"Yep," Collette said. "I've seen a possible hope, a desperate one, in curing Camilla's nymphomania, and what you've shown me, Candice, strengthens that hope. I'm no psychologist, but if we can reunite Camilla with her father, maybe--just maybe--something will click in her brain, and she'll stop looking for men twice her age to be her lovers."

"Then she'll be monogamous," Candice said, her eyes twinkling with a hope of her own. "And no more risk of STDs."

"That will make me happy, too," Collette said.

"Can I give Camilla that photo?" Candice asked.

"No need," Collette said. "She already has lots of photos of him. I'm surprised she never showed you them."

*********************

Candice returned to the apartment twenty minutes later. When she got into the bedroom, she saw Camilla still crying.

"Baby, don't cry," Candice said as she started undressing. "When I talked to your mom, she told me she was willing to let you get together with your dad again."

"Really?" Camilla asked, sitting up in bed. "She spat in my face after you left."

"That bitch," Candice said, now in her pink underwear. "She told me about you seeing her blow some guy when you were little." She unhooked her bra. Camilla reached forward and pulled down Candice's panties. Candice got into bed with her.

"She still marrying Troy?" Camilla asked, hugging Candice.

"Yeah, but what does that matter? Just finish your summer school class, apply for admittance to the University of Toronto, or to York University, and you can be near your dad." Candice started kissing Camilla on the neck.

"Is that...where he is?"

"Yeah." Candice was kissing her way down to Camilla's breasts. "I'm sure...with your grades...you'll get admitted easily." She put Camilla's right nipple in her mouth.

"Sounds great," Camilla moaned, running her hands through Candice's hair. "I feel...much better already. Oh!"

Candice fingered Camilla's clitoris as she sucked on her right tit. Camilla's sobs were now completely replaced with sighs. Candice put her index and long fingers inside Camilla's vagina, and her pinkie inside Camilla's asshole. Candice moved her head over to suck on Camilla's left breast while her free hand fondled Camilla's right one. Camilla was sighing and squealing.

Then Candice kissed her way down from Camilla's breasts to her belly and pubic region. She gently brushed her face against Camilla's pubes, then wrapped her lips tightly around Camilla's clit. She sucked on that juicy stone of sensual delights for a while as her fingers tickled Camilla's G-spot, A-spot, and rectal walls. Camilla pulled up her left breast and put the nipple in her mouth. She sucked on it as feverishly as Candice was sucking on her clitoris. Then Candice pulled her fingers out of Camilla's holes and started licking her soaking vaginal opening. She put her tongue as deep inside as it would reach, and licked Camilla's G-spot. Camilla screamed with pleasure. Then she pulled her tongue out and licked Camilla's asshole while fingering Camilla's clitoris. Finally, Camilla came all over Candice's face. Wiping the come out of her eyes, she looked up at Camilla.

"I don't know whose face is wetter, mine with your come, or yours with your tears," Candice said while licking the come off her lips.

"Thanks, Candice," Camilla said. "Sorry for neglecting you all this past week."

"One question," Candice said, using her fingers to wipe off Camilla's come. After sucking the come off her fingers, she asked, "Of all our teachers, which one reminds you the most of your dad?"

"Oh, Mr. Grisham," Camilla answered. "No contest."

"I thought so," Candice said.



Camilla Ch. 049



At Luvlee's on Thursday night, Akemi--squeezing naked Camilla's buttocks--tearfully begged her to return her love. Gently holding Akemi's cheeks in her hands, Camilla said, "Sweetie, it wouldn't work between us. I'm a polygamist: I'd cheat on you every day and night."

"Please," Akemi sobbed. "You can learn to love me."

"Baby," Camilla said softly. "I'm doing you a favour by being honest with you. If I said I loved you, I'd be lying. Sorry."

"Please don't reject me," Akemi cried. "I love you so much; I love you ever since I first saw you. When we make love in private room, was so beautiful."

"Sweetie," Camilla said. "You'll find someone else. Someone better than me."

"No one better than y--" Akemi began, but Candice interrupted her by kissing Camilla hard on the lips. Candice was determined not to let anyone take Camilla away from her. Akemi left the strip joint, bawling.

"Candice," Camilla said. "I wanted to break it to her gently."

"She'll get over you," Candice said as she put her arms around Camilla's neck. "Excited about going to Toronto?"

"Of course," Camilla said. "The next four weeks of summer school are gonna feel like an eternity, but knowing I'm gonna be with my daddy next month will make it worth the wait. So you're coming with me?"

"Absolutely. I'm not letting you out of my sight. With your dad near you, you won't need so many men, will you?"

"Oh, I dunno. I'm still gonna wanna fuck a lot. Daddy won't slow that down. It's not like I'll be fucking him, you know."

Frowning with an undying jealousy, Candice said, "I gotta get ready. I'll be doing my floorshow soon." She left Camilla. Camilla walked towards the stage, thinking about poor Akemi: she really didn't want to break that sweet girl's heart, but there was no other way.

As Camilla approached the stage, she noticed a new stripper doing her last song--a pretty, petite Asian girl dancing to a slow Taiwanese pop song. Naked, the girl's breasts were so small, she was virtually flat-chested; she also had a captivatingly lovely face, with mesmerizingly expressive eyes. Her eyes expressed shyness and fear from being seen naked in a strip joint for the first time, fear that the men wouldn't like her not-so-endowed body. The vulnerability in her eyes made Camilla think all the more of the pain Akemi's eyes had just shown. Camilla was touched by this new Asian stripper, aroused by her; she wanted her.

The girl timidly sat on the floor of the stage and spread her legs before three men at the tip rail. Camilla recognized one of the men as no less than the mayor of Vancouver; she correctly believed the second man to be one of the plainclothes policemen who'd seen her naked at the park when she displayed herself as Bob took pictures; she didn't know who the third man was (he was the chief of police). From the looks on the men's faces, they clearly thought the Asian girl was as exciting as Camilla did. Just like Calina's, the Asian girl's pussy was hairy. She then turned around and got on all fours to show the men her ass. She spread her legs open, assuming only her vulva would be showing, but because she was skinny, her buttocks were wide open, and the men could clearly see her pretty black asshole. She hadn't intended to show it, and would have been frightened to know that those men were fantasizing about fucking that tight hole; still, looking back at them and thinking they were enjoying merely the sight of her pussy, she smiled at them, happy to know that her body was pleasing them.

Camilla, too, was licking her lips at the girl's tiny beauty, and fantasizing about licking both holes. Still naked, Camilla started fingering her clitoris. Calina, wearing red underwear and matching high heels, came up beside Camilla and gently stroked her behind. "Isn't she hot?" Calina asked in her sexy Russian accent.

"Yeah," Camilla said. "Who is she?" Camilla kissed Calina on the cheek and put her arm around her waist.

"The boss's daughter," Calina said. "Got job when I did." She put her hand on Camilla's tit.

"Yeah, so you're a lap-dancer now, eh? How do you like it so far?" Camilla put her hand down the front of Calina's panties and fingered her already wet vulva.

"Love it. Sit on cocks, make me so horny. When we all eat each other onstage?"

"Soon," Camilla said. "Candice will do her floorshow next, and we can go on when she's naked for her third song. You see how that girl doesn't just show her pussy, but also her asshole? You should do that, too, Calina. Lots of men fantasize about anal sex; I could see those three men at the tip rail thinking about fucking that new girl's ass when she was crawling around on all fours." She pulled Calina's panties down and fondled her buttocks.

"You think the men will like my hairy pussy?" Calina asked in sighs. "I worry they won't."

"Sure they will. Lots of men like naturally hairy girls. Those guys like the hairy Asian girl, don't they?" Camilla brushed her hand through Calina's copious pubic hair.

"Yes, but maybe other men don't." Calina fingered Camilla's pussy. A number of the customers were watching the girls feeling each other up.

"Look, Calina. If you're worried, do a test. Show off your hairy bush with pride tonight, and see how many guys like it; then shave it or trim it tomorrow, and see how the guys react to it then. Whichever version they like better, let that be the way you show yourself." Camilla opened Calina's buttocks and fingered her asshole.

"OK, I take your advice."

The Asian girl finished her song, got off the stage, and went with the mayor into a private room. Then Candice went up onstage in heavy make-up, a black evening gown, and matching high heels. All the customers cheered for her. Camilla and Calina came closer to the stage to watch her. Candice smiled at them as she began dancing to her first song, Lady Gaga's 'Poker Face'.

Suddenly, Camilla felt someone's hands covering her eyes. She turned around and saw Mr. Gray behind her. "Oh, hi sir!" she said with an ear-to-ear grin. She put her hands on his shoulders, and he put his hands on her hips. With a squeal of delight, Camilla jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Looking lewdly in his eyes, she gyrated her hips as if she were being fucked by him. Calina, still with her panties pulled down, watched them, breathing heavily and fingering her clitoris. The customers' attention was divided between watching Candice and watching Camilla and Calina.

"How are you?" Mr. Gray asked, looking down at Camilla and admiring her nudity.

"Great, now that you're here, sir," she said with a lascivious grin. "Want some lap-dances? Then you can take me home with you and fuck me if you want."

"I'd love to, but I don't think my wife will approve," he said. "Remember what happened to Mr. Finch yesterday." Camilla's smile changed into a pout. "On the other hand, with the private rooms here, do you think we could get away with screwing here? You seem to have a vacancy between your legs."

"Yep," Camilla said with a giggle. "But if you put your thing in my pussy, I'll scream, and people will hear. Putting it in my bum, or in my mouth, is better. I moan more softly then." She giggled lewdly again.

"I'd like that," he said, "but I had my hard-on set on your pussy."

"Well," Camilla said, looking at Calina and realizing that she wanted in on the fun, "if I'm eating out Calina here while we fuck, that could muffle out my screams. Hey Calina, you wanna?"

"Oh, yeah," Calina said, practically drooling. "We eat Candice later."

Still with her arms tightly around Gray's neck, Camilla unwrapped her legs and pushed them against his groin as he slowly let her slide down to the floor. Her mouth agape, and always looking into his eyes to know how she was making him feel, she enjoyed the feeling of his erection poking out against her legs as she went down to the floor. Calina left her panties down as she, Camilla, and Gray went over to a private room. Candice frowned to see them go.

When the three lovers went into a room, Gray got on his knees while Camilla lay on the floor with her legs wide open. Calina swayed her hips from left to right as she undid her brassiere and slowly took it off. Gray pulled her panties off, and she kicked off her high heels. Then she sat on Camilla's face. Gray was impressed with the Russian-Canadian's large breasts, her coffee-coloured complexion, and her hourglass curves. He undid his pants and pulled out his almost fully-erect penis; he aimed it at Camilla's ever-moist pussy as she eagerly licked Calina's cunt, the hairs of which tickled her face.

"Oh, Camilla," Calina sighed. "You have electric tongue. Oh!"

He slowly slid his now fully-erect cock inside Camilla's dripping wet pussy: she orgasmed all over the floor, and her high-pitched squeals, it seemed, were successfully muffled by Calina's snatch. The lovers figured they were safe from suspicion from anyone outside the room; Camilla knew the bouncers wouldn't tell anyone what they were seeing on their cameras. Rick and Don would be too busy enjoying the show on their monitors.

****************

Indeed, the bouncers were enjoying the show.

"Man, that Slav with the hairy pussy's a horny bitch," Don said.

"You got that right," Rick said. "She has a great body, too. She just needs to shave her bush, and she'll be perfect. I'll bet that pubic hair is where Jimmy Hoffa went missing." They laughed.

Then the door suddenly opened. Mrs. Chen, the new boss ever since the death of her husband, came in. The men's smiles immediately turned upside-down.

"What those girls doing?" she said angrily as she watched the monitors. "This a strip joint, not whore house."

"Well, as long as the cops don't know," Don said, "we're safe. And remember, Camilla's responsible for so much of our good business."

"She'll be responsible for us out of business!" Mrs. Chen snapped. "The mayor is here; so is chief of police. Hope he don't come up here, see what we see!"

****************

Camilla's fingers were now in Calina's soaking wet vagina, rubbing against her G-spot. As Gray continued probing deep inside Camilla's pussy (which had just gushed its second orgasm), he ogled Calina's large breasts.

"Calina," he asked in pants. "May I touch them?"

"Oh, yes," she sighed. "I happily let you feel."

He cupped them in his hungry hands and gently squeezed them; they felt so soft, so smooth, so perfect! She thrilled to the sensitivity of his caressing hands.

Camilla kissed and licked Calina's beautiful asshole; like her pussy, it was immaculate--no foul odour or taste. Camilla also licked around Calina's anal cleft, her tongue tickling the small wisps of hair surrounding Calina's anus.

"Oh, Camilla," Calina moaned. "My butt loves your tongue."

Watching Camilla's large breasts shaking as he fucked her, Gray moved his right hand down to fondle her left breast, keeping his left hand on Calina's right breast.

"You girls," he grunted, "are the queens...of soft."

"You, sir," Camilla answered in shaking groans, "are the king...of hard. Oh, my God!" Her next orgasm was imminent.

Indeed, the tip of Gray's rock-hard cock kept pushing firm kisses against Camilla's euphoric A-spot; she orgasmed a third time, and there was a huge puddle of her come all over the floor. Camilla's long finger gently poked against Calina's A-spot, and she was approaching orgasm herself.

"Oh!" Calina screamed. "I come soon!"

Camilla moved her head away from Calina's asshole and started sucking on her hard clitoris. This, combined with Gray's continuous pinching of Calina's right nipple, made her come her first spray all over Camilla's eyes. Camilla quickly moved her head up with her mouth open to receive the rest of Calina's cooze; she fingered Calina's clit to maximize her excitement and make her come more copiously. It worked, and Camilla received five explosions of plentiful come in her gluttonous mouth.

****************

The mayor and chief of police, knowing of Camilla's notoriety, were anxious to find proof of it. The only proof they had was from the plainclothes cop, who told them about Camilla's nude posing in the park with Bob.

Candice finished her floorshow, and walked off the stage. The mayor, having returned from the lap-dance he'd got from the new Asian stripper, asked Candice to come over.

"Do you want a lap-dance, Your Worship?" she asked him.

"Yes, in a minute," he said. "Where's Camilla? I hear she's quite the girl to see. If we could have her with you, that would be great."

Greatly desiring to be in a private room with Camilla, but not wanting the mayor to know of Camilla's current excesses with Gray and Calina, she lied and said, "Sorry, I don't know where she is right now."

"OK, thanks anyway," he said. "If I find her and you're available, we'll all have lap-dances together, OK?"

"Sure," she said, and walked away. The next stripper to go onstage was a petite Latina girl. Though the men found her quite appealing too, they resolved to look for Camilla. They got up, left the tip rail, and walked around the bar; as they looked around, they saw a beautiful thin black girl in white lace underwear. She asked the plainclothes cop if he wanted a lap-dance; he accepted, and went with her into a private room. Again, the other two men found her attractive, but remained focused on finding Camilla.

Not seeing Camilla anywhere in the main area of the bar, they chanced upon the room where the bouncers were.

****************

"I'm gonna come," Gray groaned.

"Please, sir," Camilla asked. "Not in my pussy. On my face instead?"

"OK," he said, and pulled his cock out. Camilla sat up, and, still with Calina's come all over her face, began to jerk him off.

Calina licked the come off of Camilla's pussy, and got a cloth and some Kleenex out of her purse to try to clean up as much of the come off the floor as she could. As she continued licking Camilla's cunt, she said, "Oh! So tasty!" Camilla came on her face. Calina sat up as she continued cleaning the floor, and with her come-soaked face level with Camilla's, she said, "We're twins now." The girls laughed.

Gray blew his load, splashing his first ejaculation in Camilla's right eye. Calina, wanting a facial, moved her head nearer to his cock. He splashed his second gushing on Calina's nose. She screamed with pleasure. Aiming his cock back at Camilla, he sprayed on her left cheek. Camilla giggled. Pointing back at Calina, he shot his fourth and fifth spewings on her lips and chin. The girls continued giggling.

He stared in awe at their come-drenched faces. Their come all intermixing as it dripped down their faces, he found it difficult to determine where his came ended and the girls' began. All the same, it was a glorious sight.

****************

Thinking it was just another private room, the mayor and chief of police barged into the bouncers' room just as Gray could be seen on one of the monitors putting his cock back in his pants and zipping them up.

"Which girl's Camilla?" the chief of police asked, looking at the screens for all the private rooms.

"H-her," Mrs. Chen said, nervously pointing at the come-soaked blonde.

"Well," said the smiling mayor. "I think we've seen all we need to see." The mayor and chief of police left the room. Mrs. Chen, Rick, and Don just shuddered.

****************

The girls and Gray left the private room to the sound of applause from the customers immediately outside; every sigh and squeal was heard. Calina and Camilla took a bow and giggled. Then Candice came over to them.

"You guys had better hide," she said. "The mayor and chief of police were looking for you, Camilla. If they know what you were doing, you may get busted."

Gray said goodnight and rushed out of the bar. Camilla and Calina quickly went into the bathroom to hide and wash their faces. Camilla got on the toilet and peed, trying to stay calm and hope she wouldn't get in trouble.

The mayor and chief of police came back into the main area of the bar. "Did you find Camilla?" the mayor asked Candice.

"No, Your Worship," she lied. "Sorry."

"Oh, that's OK," he said. "We're gonna have to leave now, anyway. We'll be back tomorrow night for those lap-dances, OK?"

"OK, sure," she said nervously. The men left the bar with the plainclothes cop. I hope you guys are corrupt enough to let us do our thing, Candice thought.

Calina came out of the bathroom slowly, looking around for danger.

"It's okay," Candice told her. "They're gone."

"Oh, good," Calina said. "Now I get ready for my floorshow." She walked over to the DJ to tell him what music to play.

Camilla opened the washroom door slightly to see if everything was OK. "Don't worry, Camil," Candice said. "They're gone."

"Whew," Camilla said, and came out. Immediately after that, she saw Dr. Singh. "Oh, hi Ravinder. Do you have my test results?"

"Yes, I do," he said. They walked over to a table and sat down together, away from the other people. He whispered, "You don't have any STDs."

"Oh, good!" she said. "But what about those little black egg-shaped things I told you about? Are they in my blood and pee?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," he said.



Camilla Ch. 050



"Oh, no!" still-naked Camilla said to ogling Dr. Singh. "So for sure, those tiny black oval things are swimming around in my blood and pee? What am I gonna do?"

"Don't be alarmed," he said as they walked over to a table. "It may not be as bad as you think."

"Not as bad!" she said in increasing agitation. "Those black eggs are what killed Mr. Leroy, I just know it. I told you about him, remember?" 

"We don't know if they killed him," he said when they sat down at a table near the stage, where Calina would soon do her first Luvlee's floorshow. "I researched his case: it was food poisoning that killed him, plain and simple; his penchant for coprophagia and urophagia, particularly consuming the piss and shit of many unhealthy people, like the prostitutes he apparently often visited, could very well have been what killed him. Leroy's food poisoning led to influenza, then pneumonia. Strangely, the complications developed unusually quickly. I suppose it's possible those microscopic ovoid things in his blood caused his death, but we don't know. In fact, we don't even know what those 'eggs' are, or if they're harmful, for that matter. They could, quite possibly, be beneficial."

"How?" she asked with her jaw dropped all the way down.

"I have them in my blood," he began to explain. "I, a doctor who specializes in STDs, should be the last person to have sex without a condom, as I did with you a few weeks ago. Since our encounter, I--worried about contracting something myself--examined my own blood, urine, and faeces, and found the 'eggs' in it. Also, a strange thing happened to me after our night together: on three occasions, I accidentally cut myself in the hand--two of them deep cuts--and look at my hand now; I healed with miraculous speed within a day or so each time."

"Really?" She saw not the slightest mark on his hand. 

"Really, and I'm a slow healer normally. All my life I've been slow to heal: not anymore. As a test, I deliberately cut myself deeply in the arm two days ago, and now look at my arm." He showed it to her, and there was no wound at all. 

"That's incredible," she said.

"What caused this phenomenon? Was it the black oval things? I don't know; I can't think of any other possible cause. In any case, those black things can only be described as alien: I've never seen anything like them, under a microscope, in my life. Nor has anyone else. They could be from outer space, for all we know." 

"Wow," she said. "Speaking of no blood, I should've had my period last week, and I didn't. I'm not complaining, of course, but it's so weird. Thank you, little black eggs, if it's you cancelling my menstruation."

"Well, good or bad, more research is needed," Singh said. "I know of scientists who are starting to look at Leroy's blood samples for answers right now. They want to know what those black things are as much as we do."

Candice, in her underwear, walked over and sat with them. "Look," she said. "Calina's doing her floorshow now, her first ever." They all watched the Russian-Canadian brunette roam the stage in a red dress and high heels. Her first song was 'Firestarter', by the Prodigy. Camilla and Candice cheered especially loudly to encourage her. Calina moved effortlessly to the rhythm, swaying her hips and shaking her tits. By the end of the song, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. Her second song was the Prodigy's 'Smack My Bitch Up': she went over to the pole and held on to it with both hands as she moved her ass to the music. The men in the audience cheered as she unhooked her bra and started to take it off, but she was a tease and pulled her hands apart with the bra and back together, not yet letting her nipples be seen. Making sure she had all the men's undivided attention, she finally pulled off her bra, shaking her exposed large breasts with joie de vivre. 

"Look at those beauties!" a man shouted.

"Yeah!" screamed another. Many other cheers like those exploded from around the room. 

As the song was coming to an end, she turned her back to the audience and pulled off her panties: again there were cheers for her pretty round behind, but she needed a moment to gather her courage to show everyone her hairy pussy; she knew it wouldn't be to everyone's taste. Finally, she turned around and let everyone see: there was a lot more enthusiasm for the sight than disapproval, if there was even any of that. 

"Alright!" shouted a man.

"I wanna suck you off, girl!" yelled another. She looked at him and giggled. With the end of her second song, she took off her high heels: now she was completely naked. 

Her third song was 'Rock On', by David Essex. She crawled around on the stage, smiling and proudly displaying her hairy vulva and anus for all the eager viewers to see. Her ass was pointed straight at Camilla and Candice, and she looked back at them with an inviting smile. 

"That's our cue," Camilla said to Candice. "C'mon, let's join her." Always-naked Camilla went up first and, getting on all fours behind Calina, buried her face in the sexy Slav's vulva. The men watching went wild.

Candice quickly took off her bra, panties, and high heels, and joined them, lying on her back in front of Calina, with her legs spread out so her ginger pussy could receive Calina's tongue. Singh just sat back and enjoyed the show. Everyone else just screamed louder.

"Two dykes!" a man shouted. "Do I hear three dykes? Do I hear four?"

A black man, licking his lips at Calina, took out his cell-phone and called his friend, the plainclothes cop who had just left Luvlee's with the mayor and chief of police. "Camilla's back," the black man said. "She's on the stage, having lesbian sex with two other girls." He hung up. 

Soon, Candice got up and crawled around on all fours like the other two, and the three girls formed a triangle of cunnilingus and anilingus: each girl had another girl's ass in her face for licking. Because each girl was tonguing another from a side angle, the cheering audience could see each girl's cunt and asshole clearly, and also see precisely where each tongue was licking. As the girls licked each other, they slowly crawled in a rotating circle, so everyone watching could see every hole. 

"A carousel of cunt-lapping!" a man shouted. "A merry-go-round of muff-diving!"

The girls were getting turned on not only by each other's licking, but by the lecherous response they were getting, and their moans and screams were getting more and more audible over the music, to the delight of those watching at the tip rail. By the end of the song, Calina splashed her come in Camilla's mouth: she caught most of it, though some dribbled down her chin. Camilla in turn came in Candice's wide open mouth, which received every drop. Candice faced the audience and let them see the come in her mouth: when she swallowed it, the men applauded with enthusiasm. Calina stuck her tongue out so the drops of Candice's come could be clearly seen. The girls got up and took a bow as everyone in the bar gave them a standing ovation. 

When the girls got off the stage, the black man approached them, as did Francine from another side of the bar. Francine asked Candice for a lap-dance, and Candice led her dope connection into a private room. (Later, they would go to Francine's home for more sex and drugs.)

"Can I have a lap-dance?" the black man asked Camilla.

"Sorry," she said. Approaching Singh, she explained. "I'm giving him one." She sat with him. 

"I'm available," Calina told the black man, giving him a lewd smile. "What's your name?"

"Clarence," he said. "Let's go." Calina led him into another private room. 

It was about midnight. Camilla was facing the front door as she talked with Singh at their table; she noticed the mayor, the chief of police, and the plainclothes cop suddenly come back into the bar. They went over to the tip rail, hoping to see Camilla there. She used this chance to sneak away with Singh to avoid getting into trouble with the three men for her habitual public indecency. 

"Ravinder, let's go to your place," she said to Singh. She got up and grabbed her purse. 

"OK," he said, getting up. "But why the hurry?"

"I'll explain later," she said. "C'mon, hurry. I'll give you another foot job." The Indian foot-fetishist smiled at hearing that. 

"Anything you say," he said. "But don't you first want to get your clothes?"

"Is your car near the building?"

"Yes, parked right by the back door."

"Great. Let's go. I'll go naked: I'm horny enough to." They went out the back door, Camilla noting that the three men went over to the bar and hadn't noticed them. Singh rushed the naked girl into his car, glad that no one was in the parking lot to see her. 

*******************

Disappointed again at not finding Camilla, the mayor was cheered up to see the Asian stripper he'd gotten a lap-dance from earlier that night. She was sitting on a bar stool in a black dress, talking to her mom. "Hi Li-ping," he said to the girl. "Remember me?"

"Mayor Wilson!" she said. "How are you? This is my mommy, Mrs. Chen. She is the owner."

"Nice to meet you," Mrs. Chen said. "You think my daughter is pretty?" 

"Y-yes," he said, slightly nervous that Mrs. Chen wouldn't approve of him liking her daughter. 

"She's a nice girl, too," Mrs. Chen said. "We have a respectable place here. If anything bad happen, if any girl do sex thing here, she get fired, I make sure of it. But my daughter won't." 

"Yes," he said. "She's very sweet."

"You want her?" Mrs. Chen asked, hoping her offer of her daughter to the mayor would gain his favour and protect her business. "I say it's OK." 

"Really?" he said, surprised and delighted at Mrs. Chen's boldness. 

"Mommy," Li-ping said in a lowered tone, annoyed at her mother's treatment of her. 

"Be a good girl and please the man in bed," her mother whispered to her in Chinese. "It will be good for my business. Don't argue and do as you're told." She looked at her daughter with bullying eyes. 

"OK," Li-ping said resignedly, picking up her purse and getting up from her stool. "You want me, Mister Mayor? Let's go." 

"Well," he said, still shocked at her mother's offer. "Come with me. Good night, boys," he said to the other two men. "I'll be occupied for the rest of the night." The shy girl left with him, however reluctantly. She comforted herself knowing that Mayor Wilson, a handsome man in his late forties with light brown hair and blue eyes, had been a total gentleman with her in the private room. She hoped he would be as gentle with her in the bedroom. 

The chief of police and the plainclothes cop walked away from the bar and looked around. The tiny Latina girl they'd seen onstage earlier that night was giving a man a table dance at a table between the bar and the stage. The chief of police walked closer to her. Naked, she was bent over, showing her client her pussy; her pretty asshole was also showing, and the chief of police was having fantasies of anal sex with the girl. He stood behind the man getting the table dance and ogled her until the table dance was over. She received her money from her client, picked up her purse and clothes, and started to walk away. The plainclothes cop tapped her on the shoulder, and she stopped to turn around. 

"You want a table dance?" she asked him in her lilting Spanish accent. 

"I'm Superintendent Lewis, Chief of Police," he said. "I'm very influential here in Vancouver. How would you like to make a whole lot of money?"

Desperate to pay back a large debt her mother owed, she was willing to do anything for money. "Yes, I would. What do you want me to do?" The naked twenty-year-old looked up at the tall, blond, handsome, forty-something man with timid, yet hopeful eyes. 

He pulled out a large roll of bills and gave it to her. "This is yours," he said with a lewd smile. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Dora," she said, grinning as she put the money in her purse. 

"Put your clothes on," he said. "Come with me." She got dressed and left with him. 

The plainclothes cop now wanted to find a girl for himself. Though he was really hoping to find Camilla, whom he'd enjoyed seeing nude in the park earlier that week, he happily settled for the skinny black stripper he'd gotten a lap-dance from. "Hi Jasmine," he said as she walked up to him. "Remember that offer I made to you when you gave me the lap-dance?"

"Yeah, Hank," she said. "I've thought about it, and I'm game. You're cute, you know that?" She stroked his blond hair and looked deep in his brown eyes. 

"Thank you," Hank said. "You're beautiful. Closing time is almost upon us. Wanna go?"

"Sure," she said, and left with him. 

*****************

In their private room, Calina was grinding on the huge cock hidden in Clarence's pants. He was fondling her tits. Her pussy was as wet as it was hairy. "You want fuck me tonight?" she asked him in moans. 

"Do I!" he grunted. "Why wait? Let's go!" 

She finished her lap-dance, put on her dress, and they went to his apartment.

*****************

Ravinder was nervous as he got naked Camilla out of his car in the underground parking lot of their apartment. They got in the elevator and went up to their floor, him worrying that someone else would come in and see her naked. He hugged her close to cover her up; his penis was as petrified with lust as he was in worry. 

He got her into his apartment, and they lay on their backs on his wooden living room floor, facing each other. "Why were you so anxious to leave Luvlee's, Camilla?" he asked as he pulled out his chocolate-coloured cock.

"Three men came into the bar," she said as she took his cock between her feet, "and they were looking for me. They were cops. I think they wanted to arrest me for all the wild stuff I've been doing at Luvlee's." She fingered her already-hard clitoris as she moved the balls of her feet gently against the sides of his erection. 

"Knowing how corrupt most...cops are, they probably just wanted...to fuck you," he sighed as he stroked her lovely feet, with their pretty bright red toenail polish. 

"Yeah, that could be," she sighed, giggling as his phallus flip-flopped between her feet. "One of them...was Mayor Wilson. Oh!" Her vagina was oozing desire, and her labia were swollen with delight. 

"The Mayor," he groaned. "Definitely wanted...sex from you. Politicians are...all like that." 

She flipped his erection up, pointing it toward his head, and used her toes to caress his bulging corpus spongiosum, her big toes on either side of the protruding tube, gently stroking up and down its length. 

"One of...the cops," she moaned, "saw me...nude at...the park. Bob, my photographer, paid him...and some...other cops...Oh! To protect us...as I posed."

"They probably don't...want to...take you...to jail," he sighed, always fondling the feet that fondled his cock. "They want...to fuck you. You're safe, I think."

She wrapped her toes around his shaft and massaged it with the ball of one foot while putting her other foot underneath, brushing his pubic hair. He moaned and sighed, gazing down in adoration at the divine feet he fetished. 

As if through clairvoyance, she said, "Maybe the mayor and...cops have a...special sex...party planned...for me." 

"Could be," he said. "Oh!" He showered his come all over her toes in several splashes. "Oh, how their beauty is heightened. Let me get some paper towels for your soon-to-come coming." 

*****************

Knowing his wife was probably in bed at home, The mayor got Li-ping into a hotel room. They sat on the bed, and he put his arm around her, trying to ease her fears of how he would handle her. 

"I can't believe your mom would offer you to me like that," he said.

"I can," she said, fighting back sobs. "She terrible. Even when I am a little girl, she treat me bad. She's too traditional Chinese. Didn't want me; she want a son. I grew up a sad girl in Taiwan; we came here two years ago, and I think life is better. Not with her as my mommy. She and my daddy always think only money is important. Daddy open Luvlee's, knowing foreigners--I mean, Canada men--like seeing girls take off clothes. But he don't want me to be a stripper, he love me too much for that. But he is die, and my mommy make me do stripper job, think I will make more money for Luvlee's. Bitch! I hate her." She started to cry. 

"Oh, sweetie, don't cry," he said, putting her on his lap and rocking her back and forth. "I promise I won't hurt you, OK? In fact, I have a proposition for you: if you do a special job for me, you'll make so much money, you won't need to work at Luvlee's ever again." He slowly unzipped her dress. 

"Really?" she said. "But mommy want me to work for her. I can't say no."

"Honey, with the money you'll be making, you'll easily say no. Trust me." He reached down to her feet and took off her high heels. She stood up and let him take off her dress. Then he pulled off her panties. "Do you have a boyfriend?" 

"I had one back in Taiwan. Nice boy, treat me good. But my daddy/mommy make me come to Canada with them; I have to say bye-bye to him. I cry a lot."

"Oh, you poor thing," he said, reaching up to unhook her bra.

"No, don't," she said, shy about him seeing her tiny breasts. 

"Sweetie, I already know what they look like. I like them; they're beautiful."

"But so small."

"I like small," he said, then she let him take off her bra. "There they are; beautiful. How old are you, baby?"

"Eighteen." She got on the bed on all fours; she spread her legs open so expose her vulva. Her pretty black asshole was also showing, but she didn't know he was lusting after it. "I'm scared."

"Don't be, sweetie." He took off his shoes, pulled off his pants and underwear, and got on the bed with her. "I won't hurt you." First he licked her pussy; this got her excited in a new way, because her ex-boyfriend never did that with her. Then he started licking her asshole; this was also a new experience for her, and though she thought it was perverted, it turned her on. She squinted and sighed in a high falsetto voice. Then he lay her on her back and got on top of her in the missionary position. He pushed the tip of his cock against her vaginal opening; her sighs got louder. He slid it in a few inches, and her sighs turned into squeals of excitement. He kept pushing it in further: she was amazed at how big his cock was! She expected it to stop going in deeper, but it kept digging deeper and deeper. Finally, it went all the way in: at seven and a half inches, his thick cock was much bigger than her ex-boyfriend's; she was surprised and thrilled, never imagining a dick could be so huge! She came in excess the second the tip of his cock touched her A-spot, but he was far from finished with her...

He continued poking his cock inside her, making her come every third or fourth time his knob kissed her A-spot. The tightness of her sweet little pussy delighted him, but he was at a plateau; so he pulled his cock out of her and had her kneel down beside the bed while he sat there with his legs on either side of her. He masturbated with his cock pointed at her face. He'd given her so much satisfaction that she was willing to do whatever he wanted. He splashed his come all over her eyes, lips, cheeks, and nose. Though she thought it was disgusting, she was glad to see the smile on his face. He'd pleased her, and she pleased him. 

After a few moments to catch his breath, he asked, "So, shall I tell you about this thing I want you to do, starting tomorrow night?"

"Oh, yes," she sighed, his come dripping off her cheeks and chin. "I'll do anything you want, Mayor Wilson. Anything to get away from my mommy." 




Camilla Ch. 050



******************

Superintendent Lewis got Dora inside his apartment and took her into the bedroom. He sat on the bed, and she stood before him. 

"OK," he said. "Strip for me." 

"Yes, sir," she shyly said, and unzipped her denim shorts, swaying her hips from side to side. Turning around so her behind was level with his face, she pulled the shorts down to reveal her pink panties. She bent over, with her ass just an inch or two from his nose, and took off the shorts and her high heels. He sniffed her behind, enjoying the slight faecal odour. She straightened up, turned around again to face him, and pulled her black T-shirt off, revealing her pink bra. She looked at him with timid eyes as she briefly danced in her underwear before him. Though she was afraid of what his sexual practices might be, she was willing to do whatever she could to get enough money to pay off her mother's debts. She unclipped her bra, and reluctantly took it off, afraid he wouldn't like her tiny breasts. Actually, he loved them, for being with this twenty-year-old was like being with jailbait, only it was legal. Then she slowly pulled down her panties to reveal the small tuft of black pubic hair between her thighs. Bent over, she pulled her legs through her panties' leg holes; completely naked, the petite Latina looked up at him with fear in her eyes. At the same time, she was sexually excited, for she found him handsome. 

She straightened up and continued swaying her hips, allowing his eyes to roam all over her frontal nudity. Though she was skinny, she had long, straight black hair, a pretty face with expressive black eyes and full, sensuous lips; she also had a nymphet-like way of showing her short, tiny body that made curvaceousness unnecessary, even superfluous. Her tiny tits were pointy, almost triangular, with hard, brown nipples--nuts to top off two small scoops of vanilla, which were surrounded by her creamy white skin. 

"Turn around, sweetie," he said. "Let me see you from behind."

"Alright," she said, turning around and spreading her legs before bending over. Bent all the way down, she looked up at him from her left side, her eyes anxious to know how his eyes were studying her anatomy. What does he want to do with me? she thought; How does he want to enjoy me? Why hasn't he taken his cock out of his pants yet? Does he want to do me doggy-style? Does he want oral? She saw his eyes staring between her legs, and assumed he was enjoying the sight of her vulva. He was, but he also loved the beauty of her wrinkly brown anus, clearly displayed, though she wasn't aware of that. She put her hand on her ass, opening it so her pussy would be better exposed; her asshole was also better exposed, and he loved that. Looking up at him, she noted his smile at the better exposure. He brought his face up to her vulva and started licking. She enjoyed the sensitivity of his tongue, and her pussy got wet with more than just his saliva. He put his tongue inside her vagina, rubbing it against the upper vaginal wall that neighboured her rectal wall; his nose rested against her anus, rubbing against it and enjoying the faecal smell. 

She put her hand on the bulge in his pants and stroked his erection. She unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out; still bent over, she put it in her mouth. He fingered her hard clitoris with his right hand, and fingered her anus with his left hand. She tried to ignore his fingering of her anus as her lips slid up and down his thick shaft. Oh, please don't fuck my ass, she thought fearfully; your cock is so huge. He took his tongue out of her vagina and moved his right hand up to her anus; his fingers opened it wide, and he slid his tongue in a half-inch. Oh, no! she thought; he wants anal! Oh, well: I must endure this for my mother's sake. 

He took his tongue out of her asshole and eagerly licked the anal opening while sliding his fingers inside her vagina. Though she was frightened at the prospect of receiving a butt-fuck, his sensitive fingers and tongue were making a lake of excitement in her pussy. She put her hands in his pants and played with his balls as she continued sucking his cock upside-down. After licking her clitoris for several seconds, she came: he licked the come off her pussy, then told her to get on the bed. Shaking with fear, she did as she was told, getting on the bed on all fours with her legs spread wide open so her asshole was in clear view. He got on the bed behind her and fingered her asshole while aiming his cock at her. She dreaded the agony of feeling such a long, thick dick inside her tiny, virgin rectum, but resigned herself to it for the sake of her mother. To her pleasant surprise, however, he slid his dick inside her pussy. She sighed with relief as well as with pleasure. As his cock probed her little pussy, massaging and stretching out every vaginal wall to her delight, he pushed his index finger deep inside her asshole, sliding it in and out. It felt muddy: he knew he had her shit on his finger, but the thought of that gave him pleasure instead of disgust, for it was her shit. Feeling his finger inside her rectum wasn't as painful as she'd imagined it would be; in fact, she was starting to like it, and she came a second time. He, however, was at a plateau of pleasure. 

He pulled his cock out of her pussy. "OK," he said. "Get on your knees on the floor beside the bed. I want to come on your face." 

"OK," she said, and did as she was told. Kneeling on the side of the bed and with his erection level with her face, he had her masturbate him. After a minute or so of her stroking his cock, he blew his load all over her face. She let him rest for a few minutes, then asked, "Can I wash my face now?"

"No," he said. "Leave your come where it is; I like it that way." Admiring the sight of her shit on his finger, he then asked, "Shall I tell you about what you are to do for us tomorrow night?"

"OK," she said timidly. "How much money will I make?"

"So much that what you currently make at Luvlee's will seem like peanuts in comparison."

"What will I have to do?"

"You'll be part of a special ceremony."

***********************

Hank went with Jasmine to her apartment. As soon as they were in her bedroom, she removed her dress. Not wearing underwear, she was now naked. His eyes poured over her lovely dark black skin, adoring it and worshipping it. He walked up to her and put his arms around her waist. He kissed a trail of kisses from her neck down to her small breasts, then down to her belly. 

"You are so beautiful," he said. "Black is beautiful; I totally agree."

"I'm one hundred percent black, too," she sighed. "My family never mixed with whites, not even once, though you're the hottest white boy I've ever seen." She got on the bed on her back, and he put his face between her legs. Pulling her legs up, he licked her pussy and asshole while she squeezed her tits. He kissed his way down her legs to her toes, sucking on each of them one by one and loving the beautiful white skin on her heels. 

Then he pulled out his cock and got on top of her in the missionary position. He slid his cock inside her pussy, and fucked her with powerful thrusts.

"Oh! Oh!" she screamed.

He grunted and panted in response. 

She gyrated her hips in a sensuous rhythm to his thrusts, sensitively receiving and stimulating the cock that was so expertly probing her. She came after several minutes of fucking, but he wanted more. She got down on her knees beside the bed and took his cock in her mouth. He looked down at her, adoring the way her large, sensuous lips slid up and down his shaft; her tongue tickled the underside of his cock, and her fingers tickled his balls. She looked up at him lewdly as she continued sucking. Finally, he came in her mouth, and she swallowed it all, not missing a drop. 

They rested a few minutes on the bed. "So where will we be going when we do this thing tomorrow night?" she asked him. 

"To a big mansion out in the country, where no one will bother us," Hank said. "It will be one, great, big, epic, even sacred party. We'll be raising power as it's never been raised before." 

***********************

Calina got naked as soon as she entered Clarence's apartment. This was her first time to fuck a black man, and from the thrilling sensation she got from having lap-danced him, she was pleased to know that he conformed absolutely to the stereotype about black cocks. Impatient to see his shlong, he frantically pulled his pants and underwear down: her eyes almost popped out of her head, and her jaw dropped to the ground to see his thick eight inches sticking out at her face. 

Her pussy foaming away, she begged him, "Please, shove your cock in me."

They got on the bed in the doggy-style position, and he slid it in. She screamed as he dug away inside her, stretching her and giving her sensations she'd never had before. It hurt her a bit, but she didn't mind. Adoring her tits, he cupped his hands around them and squeezed them gently as he continued giving her his cock with all the power and stamina a stud could give. Her multi-orgasmic coming drowned his cock and balls, but he wasn't done yet. He pulled his cock out of her, and she turned around to face him. 

Still worshipping her breasts, he asked, "Can I put him between those marvellous titties?" 

"Oh, yes," she sighed, wrapping her breasts around his cock. He slid his cock between her soft, smooth breasts, and she kept her face pointing downward, in anticipation of his ejaculation. He put his hands on her cheeks, and stroked her hair as he kept thrusting. Finally, he shot his load on her nose, her right cheek, her lips, and her left eye. She screamed and giggled at each splash. They lay back on the bed and rested. "I keep your come on my face, to please you."

"That's very thoughtful of you," he panted. "You know that girl, Camilla?"

"Yes," she said. "Why?"

"The mayor, the cops, and some other important people want to see her."

"Is she in trouble?"

"No, not at all," Clarence said. "Her talents will be required at a special party tomorrow night."

"Really? Can I come?"

"Can you ever," he said, looking at the spewing all over his crotch. "But yeah, you're invited too, for sure. So's that redhead, if she wants."

"Candice? Good. What do we all do there?"

"Fuck...and fuck...and fuck." 



Camilla Ch. 051



Naked, squatting Camilla gleefully looked up into Carl's eyes as she finished swallowing all of his come in a private room in Luvlee's on Friday night; but suddenly, Mrs. Chen barged into the room. 

"You're fired, Camilla! Leave my place now!" her boss yelled. 

Blushing Carl put his cock away. "What the fuck?!" he shouted. He zipped up his pants, left the private room, and rushed out of the strip joint in total embarrassment. 

"What? Me fired?" Camilla said in shock. 

"My place is not a whorehouse!" Mrs. Chen shouted. "Get out!"

Candice, Calina, Li-ping, Dora, and Jasmine were in earshot of all the shouting, and came over to the door to the private room, as did many customers and a few other strippers.

"What's going on?" Candice asked.

"I'm fired, apparently," Camilla said, leaving the private room. She was so upset that she forgot to get her purse and her clothes.

"The mayor is here," Mrs. Chen said. "I don't want him know what you doing." 

"But I do know," Mayor Wilson said as he and a few cops joined the crowd of people there. "I don't believe we've met, Camilla." 

"Hi," Camilla said, shaking his hand. "Am I in trouble for what I just did with that customer?" 

"No, not at all," Superintendent Lewis said. "In fact, your uh, talents are wanted elsewhere." 

"Really?" she asked. "Where?"

"In a big mansion out by Grouse Mountain," said Hank. "You and your friends are all invited. You'll be well-paid, too. You'll all be swimming in money: I promise." 

"If Camilla goes, I go," Candice defiantly told Mrs. Chen. "I quit." 

"So do I," said Calina. "I go with cops to mansion."

"I'm go, too," said Li-ping.

"What?" Mrs. Chen shouted. "You can't. You have to work here tonight. You my daughter; do as I say!"

"No!" yelled Li-ping. "I quit, Mommy!"

"Same here," said Jasmine. "I'm going where the money is more."

"Me, too," said Dora. 

"OK, girls," said the mayor, "get in our limos, and we'll take you to the place. You'll love it: paid to party." 

"Limos?" said Candice. "Alright!" The girls started towards the front door with the mayor and cops. 

"Wait!" shouted Mrs. Chen at her former employees. "You can't do this! I need you!" 

"We just did it," said Camilla, who wanted out of the bar so quickly, she left both her purse and her clothes. A limo, with its doors open, was waiting for the nude girl right in front of the building. 

"Li-ping!" shouted Mrs. Chen. "You come back here!" Her daughter ignored her and walked out the door, arm in arm with the mayor. "Mr. Mayor! I let you have my daughter and this is how you repay me?" 

******************

As the limos drove out of the city towards the mountains, Candice, correctly assuming the cops who sat with her were too corrupt to care, got out some ketamine, chopped a line, and snorted it. "You guys want some?" she asked.

"No thanks," said Hank, sitting beside her. "We're good."

"You don't mind me doing it?" she asked.

"Nah," he said. "Enjoy yourself. If you like getting high, you'll love the special drink we have for all you girls. It's made from grass, herbs, and, well, lots of things." 

"Yeah?" she asked. "What is it?"

"We've been enjoying it for some time now, but it will be something relatively new to you," he said. "It's called 'Nigrovum'. "

"Nigrovum? What's that?"

"You'll see, in ways you've never seen before. And you'll feel no pain. You'll feel like you're in outer space. Really."

"Wow. So how do cops and the mayor have enough to afford limos?" she asked.

"Oh, these aren't our limos," Hank said. "We have some rich, powerful friends in the world of big business and politics. If you girls entertain them well enough, and indulge their every fantasy, you'll all benefit in a big way, as will the mayor and Vancouver police." 

"Who are these powerful people?" 

"They prefer to remain anonymous." 

Though that last word, reminding Candice of 'Mr. Anonymous' Jim, sent a chill down her spine, she assumed that neither he nor his creepy, voyeuristic ilk would be important enough to be part of the night's adventures, so she forgot about her worries and enjoyed the rest of the ride to the mansion. 

*******************

The limos arrived at the five-storey mansion a half-hour later, at around 10:30 PM. It was a beautiful old beige building, of Victorian design. It was between the foot of Grouse Mountain and a densely-wooded nearby forest. 

When Camilla got out of her limo to look at the mansion, she got a vaguely eerie feeling about the place. She looked at the address. "1111 Morse Road," she read on a sign by the front door as she went in. A recording of Nocturnal, a composition for soprano, male chorus and orchestra by avant-garde classical composer Edgard Varese, could be heard playing. It was a dark, dissonant piece of music: one could hear men's voices repeatedly chanting, "You belong to the night."

The mayor and cops brought the six girls into the mansion, then started walking away. "Mister Mayor," said Li-ping. "Where you going?"

"We're going to slip into something more comfortable," he told her, then he went into another room with the policemen. Li-ping started to feel scared without her new lover near her. Jasmine and Dora also started feeling anxious without Hank and Superintendent Lewis with them. 

Some men in virtually identical-looking black suits and masks approached the girls. Their masks all looked different, but had one thing in common: grotesque and grinning, they were like those masks worn in ancient Greek comedies. 

The masked men led the girls up five flights of stairs to the top floor; by the time they all got there, the girls were eagerly hoping to find chairs to rest on. As they went single file into a fairly large waiting room, they noticed, above the doorway, a sign: 'Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate'; none of the girls understood Italian, so they quickly forgot about it. 

In the room there were eight naked, muscular young men and two naked young women. Only ever-horny Calina showed any sexual interest in them, the three black men in particular, Clarence being one of them. The other five men were three whites, an Asian, and an aboriginal. Their cocks, long and semi-erect from the sight of the two naked women and from the expectation of enjoying these six new women, made it safe to assume that the sexy studs were all well-hung. The girls would soon learn just how correct that assumption was. 

Camilla, having interest only in older men, couldn't care less about the youths; but instead hoped for some handsome mature lovers, since she too had been told about the wealthy, powerful men who'd be attending the party; what's more, she hoped to enjoy making love to little Li-ping. Li-ping, only wanting to be with the mayor, was scared: she didn't want any of those naked young men touching her, and feared being forced to let them have her. Candice, feeling the ketamine start to take effect, didn't want those men touching her, either, but feeling the effect of the ketamine would help her not care. Dora and Jasmine, wondering where Lewis and Hank were, hoped they wouldn't have to have sex with those youths, either.

The two naked women, one white and the other aboriginal, were even more scared. They tried to ignore the ogling of the eight naked youths; the only reason the men hadn't gang-banged them was because they'd been ordered by the masked men not to touch them until after all sixteen people had been 'examined'. There were four masked men in the room, too: one standing at each wall in the middle. The naked women could feel their staring eyes, and were even more nervous about the fact that they couldn't see the men's faces: who were they? What were they thinking about? What did they want? The naked women, not even wearing make-up, also felt uneasy about how their facial imperfections were clearly on display in the well-lit room. Did the men think they were ugly? The eerie grins on those grotesque masks caused even more anxiety: did the masks' expressions reflect the real men within? 

The aboriginal, a 20-year-old prostitute, was pretty and petite, like Li-ping and Dora. She looked a lot like porn star Hyapatia Lee. A drug addict with an abusive pimp for a boyfriend, she would have killed herself if it hadn't been for the mayor and chief of police telling her about this great money-making opportunity. 

The white woman, a 22-year-old single mother and stripper from a strip-joint several blocks away from Luvlee's, had wavy blonde hair almost down to her shoulders, and vulnerable brown eyes. She was full-figured, with fairly large breasts and blonde pubic hair, but she was also somewhat pot-bellied. It was obvious from the edgy look on her face that she was insecure about her looks, since her lack of makeup meant her face's slight blemishes and pimples, however small and few, were clearly visible to everyone. Being naked before strangers was a lot easier in a dark strip joint than it was in these bright rooms. What made her even more uncomfortable, both psychologically and physically, was her need to take a shit; so she frequently squirmed and pushed her pretty round buttocks together to prevent farts. 

As soon as all six of the new arrivals came in the room, one of the masked men said, "OK, girls, take off all your clothes and wait here to be examined. Remove your makeup and nail polish, too: we want you to be all natural."

Calina, wearing only a red slip and high heels, happily got naked, eagerly waiting to fuck the naked men. She grinned a slutty grin as all the men--nude and masked--stared at her large breasts, hairy pussy, and round ass. 

The other clothed women, however, were extremely reluctant to get naked in front of all these strangers. Camilla, already nude, didn't care about that, and could accept removing her makeup; but she didn't want to remove her nail polish, for fear of those black lines on her finger- and toenails being seen. 

"Quickly, ladies," another masked man said impatiently. "Strip--down to your bare asses."

"W-where's the mayor?" Li-ping asked, fighting back sobs.

"Strip!" another masked man shouted. "Now!"

"Come on, you girls!" the naked white woman shouted. "We don't wanna be the only ones!" 

So Jasmine, Dora, and Li-ping slowly and nervously unzipped their dresses, and let them drop on the floor, exposing their pretty lace bras and panties.

"Alright," one of the masked men grunted. Li-ping sobbed softly as she pulled her panties down. Whistling ensued as the other girls removed their underwear. Jasmine, whose breasts were slightly larger than Dora's and Li-ping's, was the least uneasy about showing them to everyone; so her brassiere came off fairly quickly. But Dora and Li-ping reluctantly unclipped their bras and took them off, afraid of whoever wouldn't like their tiny tits. The whistles and moans of pleasure from the men--nude and clothed--didn't ease the girls' minds. After kicking off their high heels, the six girls went over to a sink in the room and washed off their makeup and nail polish. After a few minutes, they were finished, and they dried themselves off. 

Camilla at first wanted to hide her hands and feet to prevent those black lines from being seen; then she looked at the hands of one of the masked men, and saw that he had the same marks on his fingernails, too. She then looked at Candice's hands and feet, and noticed that even she had the black marks! Though she now didn't feel so alone with this physical imperfection, she feared for her friend, wondering if both of them were sick with the microscopic black 'eggs' in their blood. 

Now that everyone in the room was naked (except the four masked men), some other masked men came in with trays of wine glasses; but the drink inside them wasn't wine--it had a dark green colour. Each of the sixteen naked people was given a glass. 

"What is this?" asked one of the naked white men.

"It's called 'Nigrovum'," said one of the masked men. "Drink up: it'll make you feel fantastic." 

All the naked people finished the drink quickly; Candice drank up with particular enthusiasm, since her ketamine high was already very powerful, and she hoped this drink would augment her buzz greatly. The masked men took the empty glasses out of the room. 

A voice on an intercom suddenly said, "Vicky: go into the next room to be examined." The aboriginal woman went into the room. 

The other girls were getting nervous, wondering what was going to happen. Were they just going to dance erotically for their guests? Were they going to give them lap-dances? Or were they going to have to prostitute themselves? Would they have to do degrading things? Did the drink have the date-rape drug in it? Would they be raped? Would they be beaten and abused? Being naked in front of men whose faces they couldn't see only worsened their fears. Who were these men? 

"I'm scared," said sobbing Li-ping. "Where's Mayor Wilson? I feel much safer with him." 

"Don't worry, sweetie," Camilla said, putting her arm around the pretty Taiwanese girl. "We'll protect you; I promise." 

"What if you can't?" Li-ping asked. 

"Where's Hank?" Jasmine asked, looking around the room anxiously. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I," Dora said. "Where's Superintendent Lewis? What about our money?" She sensed something menacing about those grinning masks. 

Camilla felt Li-ping's body trembling with fear as she had her arm around her. Though she hated to see the pretty girl so frightened, she was getting excited from touching her soft skin; she was also getting impatient about when the fucking would start. "When is this being in limbo going to end?" she asked.

"Not too much longer," said a masked man. "When the party proper starts, you'll be feeling so good, you'll see just how much it was worth the wait." 

Though Candice didn't like the affection Camilla was giving Li-ping, the ketamine, on which she was now peaking, made her feel impervious to the pain of jealousy. Also, she was biding her time looking at Jasmine's pretty face.

Li-ping, dying from all the suspense, put her head on Camilla's shoulder, and Camilla gently kissed her on the forehead. She also gently stroked Li-ping's left buttock. Camilla was breathing heavily and getting wet. Li-ping just continued softly sobbing. "Oh, don't cry, sweetie," Camilla said. "It'll all be over with soon enough." 

"Why my mommy have to be so mean," Li-ping said between sobs. "If she nice to me, I wouldn't be a stripper, and not here, this scary place. If she nice to you, you not fired. I'm sorry for what she do to you." 

"I'll be OK," Camilla said, hugging Li-ping closer to her. "I don't like my mommy either. I got away from her, and I'm glad. You're right to get away from your mom, too." 

"My mommy make me be a stripper," Li-ping said. "I never want to; I just want go to university, study engineering, and do respectable work."

"After we finish this job, you'll have so much money you'll be able to pay for your university and living expenses ten times over, I'm sure of it," Camilla said, kissing Li-ping on the cheek. "You'll be able to get far away from your mom. Have faith, and hang on until the end of the night."

Apparently, Vicky was finished in the other room, for the voice on the intercom said, "Sandy: it's your turn. Go in the examination room." The blonde woman nervously went in. 

Sandy saw Vicky, frowning, walk out another door opposite the one she used to enter. In the small, well-lit room, Sandy saw a dozen masked men, also in expensive, almost identical black suits. They were sitting on chairs arranged in a circle. Again, the masks were of the same grotesque design, with unnerving grins. It frightened her to be the only naked woman in the room, especially with her pot belly, flawed skin, and gas. All this among men she didn't know, whose facial expressions were hidden, so she had no clue as to what they were thinking. 

"Come in the centre," a masked man said in an Italian accent. "So we can all get a good look at you." 

"What d'you wanna do?" she asked with a tremulous voice.

"Examine every inch of your body," another masked man said, in a French accent. 

"Why?" Her whole body was now shaking.

"Because it pleases us to know everything about your body," a third masked man said, in a German accent. 

"Well, OK, but...can I use the bathroom first?" asked, quietly farting. There was a powerful faecal odour that embarrassed her. 

"No," said the first masked man. "You must piss and shit later."

"But...I'll stink up the room," she said, on the verge of tears. 

"We're enjoying the smell," said a fourth man in a Russian accent. "It's a fetish of ours." 

"Sit on the floor and spread your legs," the second man said. 

She squatted down on the floor, and when she began spreading her legs, she farted audibly. The men chuckled, sniffing away gleefully. "You have a trumpet bum, my dear," a fifth man said in a Spanish accent. She started to cry.

"Don't be embarrassed," the third man said as he bent forward and looked up close at her pussy. "We like nature's smells." He fingered her cunt, opening the labia wide. 

"Your asshole fascinates me," said the third man. "Get on all fours, and point your ass at me. I want to see your asshole up close." 

Still sobbing, she did as she was told. Who are these men? she thought; What are they thinking? What do they want? Are they going to fuck me, or just look at me and humiliate me? 

The German spread her buttocks open wide, and brought his face near; she broke wind again, but silently. He felt the breeze against his face, and breathed it all in. 

The men continued fondling her all over, having her turn around so every man could see every inch of her body; she continued farting and crying. They made comments in their own languages. It was driving her mad not to know who they were, or what they were saying about her body. She tried to remind herself of why she was here: to get the money so she could provide a better life for her baby daughter. She had many hands feeling her up simultaneously, grabbing her tits, squeezing her ass, patting her on her pot belly, tickling her pubic hair, groping her vulva, and touching her legs. They made her feel like a piece of meat, not a human being. All those eyes looking up close at every goose-bump on her skin, knowing her anatomy better than she did, and she had no idea who the men were. After every man thoroughly examined her breasts, buttocks, pubic hair, pussy, asshole, legs, and feet, feeling around inside and out, she was asked to leave. She gladly left, though not without an end to her crying. 

Vicky, in the next room, put her arms around her. "Don't cry, Sandy," she said. "Remember what's at the end of this ordeal: all that money." 

"That money had better be there!" she shouted in sobs. "That was so degrading; they made me feel like an animal. But I gotta do it, for my beautiful baby. I don't want her to grow up working class, like me."

Candice went into the examination room next. The ketamine made her feel protected from the masked men's ogling and groping: she simply didn't care about all those probing hands and judging, faceless eyes. 

Then Calina went in. Her horny exhibitionism was tempered only by insecurities about how the men would react to her hairiness; not being able to see their faces, and not understanding the languages she heard made her even more nervous. Only the Russian's remarks eased her mind: in Russian, he said, "I want to feel that pretty hairy pussy tickling my face." She hoped to get a fuck from him later; she'd have to try to remember his mask, purple, with a long beak nose. Those 24 hands feeling up her breasts, buttocks, pussy, and asshole got her soaking wet between the legs. 




Camilla Ch. 051



Next to go in was Li-ping. She cried incessantly during the whole 'examination'. As all those hands pawed at her defenceless body, she kept begging for the mayor to come and take her away; actually, he was one of the men, but he never told her. If only she'd known that he wasn't the good man she thought he was. Then Dora went in; though she didn't cry, she shook with fear, especially when she had to bend over. As her beautiful little virgin asshole was being enthusiastically examined, she again had fears of being anally raped. Jasmine went in next; she felt the fear, but also disgust at how contemptuously she was being treated. 

Finally it was Camilla's turn. Though she happily displayed herself to these mysterious men, and allowed them to touch her all over, she was worried about how they'd react to those black lines of hers. She saw the same lines on their fingernails, too; this eased her worries, but also made her wonder if this meant she had something in common with such creepy people. Indeed, that eerie sense of commonality was increased when she began to sense a strange psychic connection with them. She'd always felt a psychic connection with others, hence that uncanny ability of hers to know people's fantasies; but this was a stronger, remarkably vivid, mutual connection. She somehow knew that these men could also feel the connection with her. 

"Oui," said the Frenchman. "She is the one whom the Nigrovum fertilized." She, of course, had no idea what he meant by that. "She is The One. We must take her up through Satan's tail, and offer her outside, on the grass, grass like what the Nigrovum fell on." They all bowed before her. "La femme sacrificiale." 

More enigmatic remarks. What on earth was 'Satan's tail'? That last expression was the last thing she could make out, for the Nigrovum was taking effect, and her perceptions were suddenly too dulled for the rest of his words to be at all coherent to her. She had some vague sense of danger, though the drug was making her too dreamy to let her continue thinking about it. She was told to go into the room where the other girls were. 

When she joined the other girls, even she, in her drugged state, could see that they were now all just as intoxicated by the drink as she was. They all continued waiting as the eight naked men, one by one, entered the room to join them after being 'examined'. They, too, were dazed by the effects of the Nigrovum. A masked man told them to follow him down the stairs to the fourth floor, where the first orgy would take place. 

"Finally, the fucking begins," Camilla said in slurs. "No more limbo." They all went down.

In a large room down there, the word LUST was written in large letters in red lipstick on one of the walls. There were large TV screens mounted on all the walls: they were showing scenes from hardcore pornographic movies, with images of gangbangs, gloryhole sex, pissing, scat, sex with animals, gay sex, interracial sex, older men fucking teenage girls, MILFs with young men, rapes, bukkake, BDSM, lesbian sex, and even kiddie porn surrounding the sixteen soon-to-be lovers, to inspire their lust. Instead of being horrified at the more extreme, illegal images, the sixteen nudes were completely desensitized to the video debauchery, thanks to the Nigrovum. Camilla, a little more psychically attuned to what was going on, felt a little fear and perturbation at what was on display on some of the scenes, the look of terror in the eyes of some of the not-so-willing onscreen lovers. Still, even her worries were muffled by the high she was feeling from the drink; also, the expectation of soon-to-come sex kept her spirits up. 

Inspired by the gangbang video, the eight naked youths looked around for two willing females. The three white men and the Asian took Camilla, and the three blacks and aboriginal took Calina, who giggled with delight at being picked up and carried over to an open area on the floor to fuck. 

One of the white men lay on the floor on the other side of the room, and Camilla got on all fours over him; he put his already erect cock in her moist pussy. The Asian, lacking lubricant, spat on her asshole and on his big cock, and slid it in slowly. The second white man put his cock in her mouth, and she started sucking with verve while taking the cock of the third white man in her left hand and jerking him off, always keeping it pointed at her face. 

Meanwhile, Calina lay on her back on the belly of the aboriginal, who, lying on the floor, had spat on her virgin asshole; he slid his cock in. Always open to new experiences, Calina welcomed this ass-gaping. Clarence, ever a worshipper of her big breasts, put his cock between them and wrapped them tightly around his manhood; he blissfully moved his dick up and down between their smooth softness. The other two black men entered her soaking hairy cunt and salivating mouth. She started squealing away. 

Candice, inspired by the lesbian video, went up to Jasmine, took the pretty black girl's cheeks in her gentle, caressing hands, and softly kissed her sensuous lips. Ever since Candice had started working at Luvlee's, she'd been captivated by Jasmine's beauty, especially by her watery eyes. Jasmine was surprised to have been kissed by a girl, this being her very first time, but she liked it. She'd always been open to lesbian sex; she just hadn't gotten around to it yet. Certainly doing it with a girl was a lot better than doing it with one of those studs, or with any of those creepy masked men...unless one of them had happened to be Hank. The two girls lay on the floor, with Candice on top, and made love, a rare moment of gentleness that whole night. 

Sandy, in a stoned stupor, freely broke wind without inhibition as she stood in the middle of the room, the other lovers being too high and preoccupied with sex to notice the odour at all. Two masked men, though, who had coprophiliac urges, approached her, one from the front and one from behind. The one in front took her by the upper arms and pulled down, while the one behind bent over, grabbed her by the lower legs, and pulled up, kissing her round buttocks as he and the other man got her on the floor on all fours. Too stoned to care, Sandy acquiesced completely, always remembering the huge amount of money she expected to get the next day. The man in front unzipped his black dress pants and pulled his hard cock out; he shoved it in her mouth, pushing it all the way in and making her deep-throat him. She briefly gagged at first, but soon got her sense of rhythm and was sucking him off expertly. 

"Oh, I like...this skank," he said in grunts as he slid his cock in and out of her mouth. 

The other man spread her legs wide open and pulled her ass forward so he could have that farting asshole up close to his face. He licked her smelly crack as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick dick, a formidable eight inches. He opened her asshole and felt the breeze of her farts blow kisses on his face; between farts, he licked her asshole and fingered her clitoris to get her pussy wet. Then he shoved his peninsular manhood halfway inside her cunt: she squealed with surprise at its size, farting loudly. He kept pushing it in deeper, amazing her all the more; this was her first moment of pleasure that whole night. Her screams of delight were muffled by the other man's hard cock in her mouth, a cock she kissed and licked intermittently between sucks as she played with his balls. As the man behind fucked her pussy, his finger probed her asshole, searching for shit. 

Vicky was taken by two masked men; they put her on the floor on all fours. One man put his cock in her mouth, and the other greased up his cock and her asshole well, and slipped right in. Vicky loved anal, and squealed as she sucked the first man's dick. This is a lot better than doing it with my pimp, she thought; though these guys are aggressive, at least they don't slap me around. 

Li-ping and Dora stood in the middle of the room in their high daze, two timid petite girls who were totally confused and disoriented as to what was going on. Eight masked men came up to them, a quartet taking each girl to opposite corners of the room. Both girls were put on all fours, with a man underneath to fuck their pussies, and a man behind to give it to them in the ass, and two men each in front of their faces, one to get head and another to get jerked off. Totally acquiescent from the Nigrovum, the girls tried to remember the money they'd been promised. 

Too drugged even to be aware she was being gangbanged, Li-ping thought she was dreaming, having sex with four clones of Mayor Wilson. (Actually, he was the man behind her, lubing her pretty black virgin anus and sliding his huge cock inside.) Looking up shyly at the grinning faces on the masks, she thought--in her drugged state--that the masks were real faces that seemed to come to life and move. They looked like they were laughing at her. (Indeed, the men were chuckling as they fucked her.) Because of the effect of the drink, their voices had the distorted, warped sound of slowed-down tape: this made the laughing sound even creepier. 

In her stupor, Dora too thought she was dreaming. She imagined herself with only Superintendent Lewis; indeed, he was there with the other men. He was lubing her pretty virgin asshole and about to shove it in. She timidly looked up at the mask of the man she was blowing, and like Li-ping, she thought the mask was a living face, and that the grin on the mask was moving, eerily laughing at her with that warped, slowed-down-tape sound. Who are these men? she thought. Because the Nigrovum made her feel desensitized to any pain or feelings of shock, as it did the other naked fifteen, she hardly at all noticed Lewis' big cock pushing all the way inside her tight, tiny asshole, stretching it wide open. 

As they all continued fucking, two things could be heard over loudspeakers: the liturgical words of a mysterious ceremony, and another composition by the avant-garde musician Edgard Varese, Arcana, for full orchestra. Everyone on Nigrovum heard liturgical words with one content, while those having not drunk the potent drug heard a quite different content. Due to her highly-developed psychic abilities, which had been in many ways augmented by the Nigrovum, Camilla could hear a bit of both; she found herself shifting back and forth from one version to the other. 

When the Asian spat on her asshole and slid his cock inside her, Camilla in her stupor imagined he was Mr. Chen during her anal deflowering; this young Asian, however, was much more endowed, at almost seven inches, and thicker, too. Has Mr. Chen been using one of those penis-enlargement pumps? she thought; I thought they didn't work. 

"One body in love, men ruling with women,..." began the words of the liturgy, as the drugged nude lovers heard it.

Doped-up Camilla imagined the man under her, fucking her pussy, was Mr. Langella; indeed, the young man's cock felt as delicious and fulfilling as her former art teacher's; her pussy was smiling. It would have frowned to know, however, that the cock inside it was attached to a 19-year-old stud who'd dropped out of school in grade ten; as unsexy as they came, in her opinion. 

"One body, one government, ruling the world,..." the liturgy began, as Camilla and the masked men had heard it. 

The cock in her mouth seemed to be Carl's scrumptious phallus, the one she'd enjoyed sucking in Luvlee's before she was canned; actually, it was that of an 18-year-old who was on parole--again, not her type. 

The violent dissonance of Varese's music sounded eerie and frightening to Camilla, though the pleasure she got from being stuffed by those cocks made her forget her worries. 

"Promoting equality, racial harmony, improvement, serenity,..." was noted especially by Calina, Candice, and Jasmine as they continued enjoying their interracial sex. The men in masks, however, chuckled as they continued fucking and sodomizing Vicky, Li-ping, and Dora, hearing the real words: "Promoting equal racial humbling, impoverishment, and servility..." 

Sandy simultaneously came and farted at her loudest when she heard the liturgy continue: "Establishing world peace, a state of bliss for the common people." As she continued licking, kissing, and sucking off the man in front of her, intermittently deep-throating him and shaking his testes, she almost felt peaceful herself. Maybe with that money, she thought, I won't be common anymore, and my beautiful daughter can have a chance at a decent life. 

Looking up at the apparently laughing mask, she didn't hear what they'd heard: "Establishing a world police state, an abyss for the common people." The man behind her, still fucking her multi-orgasmic pussy, gleefully sniffed her flatulence and stuck his finger deep inside her asshole. 

Camilla and Calina were shaking and squealing with the pleasure they received from their panting partners, all of them approaching orgasm. Candice went down on Jasmine, feverishly licking her pussy while fingering her own. Both girls were about to come, too, for Jasmine's body was vibrating from Candice's electric tongue, and Candice was being overcome with the ecstatic affection she was feeling for her new lover. The two girls were inspired to hear, it seemed, these liturgical words: "Feeling boundless sensual joy, the people will be cared for by that global village, the state." 

The masked men continued chuckling as they enjoyed Vicky, Sandy, Li-ping, and Dora, their masks ever seeming to the drugged women as real faces, laughing at them as their mouths, pussies, and asses were being fucked. The men heard what was really said: "Feeling bound by sensuality, the people will be caged by that global villainy, the state."

Camilla had already come five times: the groin area of the man under her was drenched in the cooze he'd inspired. The Asian fucking her ass was really digging a deep tunnel in her happy rectum. This fuck was a real workout; they were sweating raindrops on each other. She kissed and licked the tip of the cock she'd been sucking while keeping the dick she was jerking off pointed straight at her left cheek. She was hoping for a massive facial, and she knew the guys were just about to blow. 

"Bukkake!" she suddenly shouted, feeling the psychic influence of the liturgical chanter. The Asian and white man under her pulled out of her holes and stood up with the other two. All in a circle around her, they jerked off over her head, which pointed up at the ceiling. 

Calina, too, was screaming from the pleasurable impaling she was getting: she'd come six times already, splashing her jizz on the crotch of the black man in her pussy, and on the legs of the aboriginal who was probing her newly-broken-in rectum. The black cock she was sucking was like a giant chocolate bar: thick and hard, with no hollowness. She greedily deep-throated it as often and as long as she could, she so worshipped its phallic magnificence. She was convinced of the old cliche: when you go black, you don't go back. Clarence continued slipping his cock up and down between her big tits, squeezing them gently and playing with them. 

"These are...so amazing," he groaned. 

Inspired by Camilla's scream of bukkake, the aboriginal and black in Calina's pussy both pulled out, stood up with Clarence, and surrounded her as Camilla's men had surrounded her. They were now jerking off, pointing their dicks at Calina's most receptive face and hair. 

"We got...the hair...between your...legs wet; now we'll...get the...hair on...your head wet," Clarence moaned as he played with himself, his dick pointed right at her nose, only a centimetre or two away. 

The masked men doing the liturgy had monitors in their room so they could watch and enjoy the orgy on the fourth floor (there were monitors for every room on every floor to know what was always going on). Using the psychic powers Nigrovum gave them, they were able to regulate the desire of all the lovers to ensure the bukkake ejaculations were perfectly synchronized. 

Candice was moaning as she fingered herself and Jasmine's cunt; her mouth was all over Jasmine's infinitely black asshole, licking it and kissing it. Surprised at how much she was enjoying Candice's talents at cunnilingus and anilingus, Jasmine was glad to have a new lover. 

Vicky's men also pulled out, got up, and pointed their cocks at her face, as did the men with Sandy, Li-ping, and Dora. As those girls' faces and hair were sprinkled on with the come of their men, these words were heard: "Nigrovum fell from the sky, from the god Set, to enlighten mankind. Its tiny black drops bedecked, like morning dew, the grass, the earth's hair." Candice and Jasmine came, and as Candice was licking the come off Jasmine's pussy, Jasmine returned the favour, moving over to lick Candice's come off hers. Calina's face and hair were saturated with come, and some of the men's come dripped on her hairy cunt, which was also covered with her own come. 

"Oh, I love...black cocks," squatting Calina said, hugging her standing black men close to her and gently kissing each of the men's spent members. "Please take...good care of them...make me feel...so good." The aboriginal felt annoyed to be left out of that. 

Finally, as these words were heard, it was time for Camilla's facial: "We sought the one who received Nigrovum and we found her, brushing her hair against the green hair of the earth. Hail, Set! The birth of a new era!" 

Then, Camilla heard these words, as did the masked men: "With her, we shall spread Nigrovum throughout the world, and our power shall grow! Hail, Satan! The birth of a new era!" 

Troubled at the sound of that demonized name, Camilla thought, I hope that's just something like Anton Szandor LaVey Satanism, not the extreme kind you hear the Church warning us about." 

All the lovers lay on the floor, breathing so heavily to regain their breath, it was as though the winds of a violent storm were blowing them about without rest.

Several of the masked men then led the sixteen nudes down the stairs to the third floor, in a room where the word GLUTTONY was written in shit in big, brown letters on a wall. TV screens on the walls showed video of corpulent people pigging out on fattening, greasy food. Varese's Deserts, for wind, percussion and electronic tape could be heard playing on a speaker in the room. The eight naked young men were told to lie next to each other on their backs in a row on the floor. After they did so, the girls got their instructions.

"Each of you girls pick a man and stand over him, your legs on either side of his hips," said a masked man. The girls did as directed: Camilla, Jasmine, and Li-ping chose the white men; Calina chose Clarence; Sandy and Dora chose the other two black men; Vicky chose the aboriginal man; and Candice chose the Asian. "Now, squat and piss on the men." 

As all the girls squatted and waited for their urine to flow, doped-up Sandy asked in slurs, "Can I shit now?" 

"Not now," said another masked man. "After your piss, you girls will all shit." 

As the eight girls began pissing on the torsos of the eight naked men, all sixteen of them seemed to hear, over a TV speaker, these words from the continuing liturgy: "We will spread bliss all over mankind: hail, Set!" 

There were eight masked men in the room with the naked sixteen. The masked men stood on an elevated stage so their expensive shoes wouldn't get soiled by the pool of piss that was spreading all over the floor; they laughed as they watched the naked men receive their golden showers, and heard the real liturgical words, which Camilla thought she'd heard, too: "We will spray piss all over mankind: hail, Satan!"  




Camilla Ch. 051



Clarence looked up at Calina and smiled as he watched her bathe his chest in her golden juice. Camilla was content to piss on her man; she deemed him, in his youth and simplemindedness, unworthy of her. Though compliant, the other six girls were annoyed to be such objects of degradation; the Nigrovum's potent effect made them too weak-willed to resist. Vicky looked down in sadness on the man she was pissing on, a fellow native. She found him handsome; he looked up at her with gentle eyes, seemingly ignorant of how he was being humiliated. 

The drugged nudes heard these ritual words: "Man will fly with the gifts we give him." The girls, looking at the grinning masks on the well-dressed men who watched them piss, thought again that the masks were real, grotesque faces, eerily laughing at them with distorted voices. Actually, the men were chuckling under those masks when they heard the real words of the continuing ceremony: "Man will die in the filth we leave him in." 

The girls finished pissing and straightened up. 

"Boys, get up and go into the next room; sit at the dining room table there," a masked man said.

The naked men got up and did as they were told, splashing their feet in the shallow yellow pond as they left the room. A masked man gestured to a pile of bowls lying next to him on the stage where he and the other masked men stood. "Each girl take a bowl and stand before each of us," he said. The girls obeyed. "Now put the bowl at your feet." The girls did. "Turn around, squat over the bowls making sure your anuses are aimed over the middles of the bowls, and shit in them." The girls turned around and squatted as directed. The masked men also squatted to get a closer look. 

"Finally. Oh!" Sandy moaned as she sprayed diarrhea into her bowl. 

The coprophiliac masked man behind her grinned a grin to match that of his mask as he saw the brown pour out of her anus. "Oh, how I love to watch your asshole in action," he said. 

The other masked men similarly enjoyed watching turds being pushed out of their girls' arseholes. The room had an abominable reek that would make a pigsty seem like a perfume store in comparison. 

When the girls finished shitting, they straightened up.

"Toilet paper?" Sandy asked, relieved to be no longer farting. 

"We'll clean you in the room next door," a masked man said, gesturing to a door leading to a shower area. "But first, spread your legs out as wide as you can, bend over, and pick up your bowls."

The girls did as they were told, and the masked men thrilled to see and sniff the girls' muddy assholes up close. The men put their hands on the bent-over girls' buttocks to spread them open wider and get a better look at each fudge-coated, puckered anus; the girls all looked back up at the men in surprise at this bizarre fetish. 

"Monsieur Leroy would love this," Camilla said.

"Byen tai [in Chinese, 'perverted']," Li-ping said. Is the mayor the man who's looking at my asshole? she wondered. (He was.)

Dora looked up in fear at the ogling man. Who is he? she wondered. (He was the chief of police.) She tried to ease her mind again by remembering the money she was promised, and how she'd be able to pay off her mother's debts. 

Sandy, too, tried to reassure herself of the money she was promised as she watched the coprophiliac behind her sniff her asshole. It's all for my daughter, she thought, all for my beautiful little baby girl. 

"OK," the masked man ogling Jasmine's asshole said (he was Hank). "Take your bowls into the dining room where your lovers are, and each of you is to put her bowl on the table before one of the men." The girls took their bowls of shit over there and gave each seated naked man one. On the right side of each bowl was a fork and soup spoon; on the left, a knife. 

"Girls, go back into the previous room," said a masked man in the dining room, "and through it into the shower room. There, you will be cleaned." As Camilla went with the other girls out of the dining room, she sneered to see the naked men lick their lips and pick up their silverware; in their drugged state, they seemed to see fudge desserts before them. 

"Boys, bon appétit," a masked man said, giggling. 

********************

In the shower room, the masked men, always on a stage to keep their polished shoes dry, had hand-held shower heads and soap ready to clean the girls' pussies and assholes. Each man called a girl by her name to come over to him, so he could have the girl he wanted. 

When each girl stood by her man, he told her to spread her legs and bend over so he could see everything; the girls did as they were told. The men thoroughly probed and soaped up each girl's vagina and rectum with their eager fingers, leaving not one millimetre of vaginal or anal wall untouched. Camilla, Calina, and Candice loved it; though the other girls felt humiliated, they strangely enjoyed the massaging sensations too. The men also washed the come off the girls' faces and hair. 

The men rinsed the soap away and dried the girls off. The girls straightened up, and the men began roughly fondling and groping them.

Camilla, somewhat more conscious than the other girls, said, "Please be gentle," to her groper; he wouldn't be. 

The other girls were peaking from the effects of the Nigrovum, and didn't care how they were being felt up. Their heads were buzzing from the high. This was especially true of Sandy, who moaned not from sexual pleasure, but from being completely stoned. Staring at the ceiling in a daze, she sensed the hands of her masked man squeeze her tits and buttocks, roughly paw at her vulva, and stab his finger in her ass; she barely even seemed to notice.

Dora's man (Lewis, though she didn't know) was fingering her anus with his left hand and groping her crotch with his other. He wanted to kiss her, but didn't, because doing so would mean moving up his mask and revealing at least part of his face. A large part of the pleasure these men were getting was from knowing the girls had no idea who their oglers and gropers were. The masked men knew everything about the naked sixteen, who knew absolutely nothing about the masked men. The only thing known about the masked men was that they were perverts. Dora felt a fear mitigated only by her high as she timidly looked into the man's eyes, the only part of his face she could see. Though the man was assuredly Lewis, a man she thought was a good man, she saw not his real, handsome face, but a grotesque mask...his real face, in another sense. 

"OK," a masked man said. "We've had our fun for now. Now, girls: go out the door over there and down the stairs to the second floor." He pointed to a door opposite the one the girls entered. Everyone left the shower room and descended to the second floor.

On one of the walls was written the word GREED, in huge gold letters. The whole room was filled with priceless antique furniture and paintings of wealthy people. The whole room exhaled opulence. 

Here was where the ritual was taking place. The High Priest, surrounded in a circle of candles and wearing black costuming with horns on his head, continued the liturgy: "Man in his avaricious quest for wealth rapes the earth and exploits the poor. The greedy bankers must be controlled. We, the guardians, shall rein them in." 

Four of the other masked men paired the eight girls in this manner: Camilla and Candice, Calina and Sandy, Li-ping and Dora, and Vicky and Jasmine. The first four girls, being big-breasted, were first to receive instructions.

"OK, girls," one of the four masked men said. "Rub those titties together. It's a competition: whose boobs are the best. Push away!"

At first, the girls giggled and sighed with excitement as they brushed their quickly-hardening nipples against each other. Candice, now coming down from the ketamine, looked lovingly in the eyes of Camilla, who looked lewdly back at her. Calina looked in the same lewd way into the eyes of Sandy, who felt awkward, having never before done anything remotely lesbian. 

"No, girls," another of the four masked men said. "Don't tickle your nipples together: push your whole tits together! Squeeze!" He, next to Calina and Sandy, pushed their backs in to squish the girls closer to each other.  Camilla and Candice pushed together of their own accord.

As the tit-squeezing continued, much to the girls' discomfort and pain, the High Priest continued with his hypocritical homily on greed: "Why, capitalists, do you hoard? Why, hawkish politicians, do you squander to build destructive armies?"

"Joust with those jugs!" the first man lasciviously said. "Push those big money bags together, those treasure chests!" 

The other four girls, not being well-endowed, were made to stand back to back and bend over. Since both petite pairs were of girls of equal height, their buttocks rubbed together. The four masked men each stood before the head of each bent-over girl; the men unzipped their pants and pulled out their hard cocks. They put them in the girls' mouths to suck.

"Rub your asses together, girls," said the man being sucked off by Li-ping. The quartet of cocksuckers gladly rubbed away, for they got more pleasure feeling the small buttocks of the girls rubbing against them than they did from blowing the men. Sometimes, a buttock would go between the crack of the opposite girl, and rub against her moist vulva. 

The High Priest continued, and this is what the drugged girls heard: "The World Government will seize the wealth of the greedy and spread it out equally to the needy." Everyone else in the room heard this: "The World Government will steal the wealth of the people and spend it all, heedless of the needy." The men in masks laughed. 

The eight naked youths, having finished their 'dessert', and having been bathed (their mouths were also thoroughly cleaned with mouthwash), came down to the second floor to join the girls. 

Nearing ejaculation, the masked men being sucked off noticed red-breasted Camilla, Candice, Calina, and Sandy resting to ease their soreness. "Keep rubbing! Hard!" one of the masked men shouted. The girls reluctantly started rubbing again. 

Seconds after, the four men came in the four petite girls' mouths. Still rubbing their buttocks together, the girls wanted to spit out the come. "No!" shouted one of the men as he zipped up his pants. "Swallow it!" The girls sadly obeyed. Li-ping, wanting to throw up, coughed after swallowing. "Follow us down to the ground floor." All sixteen naked people followed the four masked men down the stairs. 

The word ANGER was written in blood in big letters on a wall. TVs mounted on the walls showed movie scenes of angry people shouting at one another or fighting; there was also video of people drowning.

One of the masked men shouted, as if in a rage, "FUCK!" at the sixteen frightened nudes. Calina paired up with Clarence; Candice and Jasmine each had one of the other two blacks and went into a corner all together; Li-ping was taken by the Asian; Dora had a white man; Sandy had the other two white men; Vicky and the aboriginal man had sex; and Camilla, not at all interested in the youths, hoped one of the masked men would please her. 

Three masked men came up to her; she psychically sensed they would be desirable--indeed, they were Mayor Wilson, Superintendent Lewis, and Hank, though she didn't know who they were. The men pulled their cocks out of their pants, and Wilson lay on the floor. She knew he wanted her asshole, so she lay on him on her back, and he lubed her and slid it in. Hank got on top and put it in her pussy; she opened her mouth to receive Lewis' cock.

Calina screamed as she bounced up and down on Clarence's huge cock, which pleasurably stretched her vaginal walls. He felt her tits and squeezed her nipples. She had her hands on his arms, feeling his muscles. 

As Candice received her man's cock doggy-style, she kissed Jasmine's cheeks and lips, for Jasmine, also getting doggy-style from her man, was facing her. This was ideal for these girls, to be pleased almost anonymously from their studs while giving each other love. Their bodies jerked closer to each other with each thrust their studs gave them, and they held each other's heads in a caressing hand as they kissed. Candice could see Jasmine as an ideal replacement lover, in case her relationship with Camilla continued to sour. 

Li-ping looked in the eyes of her Asian lover as he fucked her pussy. Though his big cock made her squeal with pleasure, the vacant, joyless look in the satyr's eyes disappointed her. She'd hoped he would remind her of her old boyfriend in Taiwan, but he, seeming to her to be either Japanese or Korean, was nothing at all like that sweet boy from her past. As much as she enjoyed the sex, somewhere deep down in her mind, she knew she'd trade in all this pleasure instantly just to have one man to be in love with.

Dora's white lover furiously licked her pussy and asshole. She lay on the floor with her spread-out legs up and over her head so he'd have both holes for his tongue and fingers. Sensitively sucking on her pebble of a clitoris and on her labia, and tickling her anal orifice, he was the best lover she'd had yet that night, and her wet pussy would sprinkle some come soon. Still, she wished she could just be at home in bed. She tried her best, in her wasted state, to focus on remembering the money she'd get to help her dear mother out of her financial woes.

Sandy, on her back on the floor, had a cock in her pussy and a cock between her tits. Though the cock in her cunt slid in and out well, the man on her chest squeezed her breasts too aggressively, so it hurt. Remember your daughter, she thought to herself; this ordeal will be over soon; that money will put my sweet baby in a good school one day. "Love...is sacrifice," she said in slurred sighs. "That's why...I'm a victim."

Vicky and her man, both being aboriginal, made love in relative serenity, trying to blot out of their minds all the mayhem around them. He thrust in gently and slowly as she sat on him in the cowgirl position, and she gyrated her hips in a soulful rhythm to his movements. She hoped she could be with this man after the night's debauchery. With the money she hoped to make from this, she could definitely get away from her abusive pimp, a nasty white man; and running into this lover's arms would be a perfect way to do that. No need for suicide then. She'd even leave the drugs alone.

When Camilla was just about to come, she would soon hear her three masked men say something disturbing. After Hank pulled his cock out of her cunt, he took a cup out of his blazer pocket and placed it by her pussy. Hank's finger tickled her clitoris to speed up her orgasm. When it spewed out and into the cup, the men watched with lascivious delight, chanting, "Nigrovum, little black Satanic eggs!" 

When the others came, all within a few minutes of each other, the masked men led the eight nudes down to basement one. When is this going to end? many of the tired naked people wondered. 

HERESY was written in blood on one of the walls of a dark room down there, lit up only by torches. The last few minutes of Varese's Ecuatorial could be heard as a violent musical soundtrack to the continuing ritual. The High Priest's voice could be heard over an intercom: "The Church calls our religion heresy, but Judaism and Christianity are the real heresies! They speak of the flaming tombs of Hell: it's a lie! Hell is a place of rejoicing. The only flaming tombs here are of the fires of lust! Rejoice: hail, Satan!"

Since she'd been fighting and resisting the stupor that the drug had put her in, Camilla was getting increasingly clear-headed, and more and more afraid. I don't think this is any kind of soft-core, harmless Satanism, she thought; this could be something nasty. 

Li-ping came up to her, still doped up but afraid; Camilla took her away with her to another room when the masked men weren't looking. She held Li-ping in her arms, and kissed her on the cheek.

They were in a dining room, with the lights off. Camilla could hear cooks in the next-door kitchen. What are cooks doing preparing a meal at this time of night? she wondered. She looked up at a clock on the wall--2:16 AM. "Are they gonna feed us?" she asked as she looked around. "Why would we eat now?" She could feel Li-ping's little body trembling with fear in her arms; she looked into the Asian's timid, expressive eyes and stroked her hair. "You are so pretty; your eyes are pure loveliness." She kissed Li-ping softly on the lips.

They got down on the floor, with Camilla on top of her petite, semi-aware lover. Camilla showered the girl with gentle pecks on her lips, cheeks, and neck. "What you doing?" Li-ping asked in sighs. Though not at all lesbian, she was getting excited all the same, sighing her pleasure. Varese's Density 21.5, for solo flute, could be heard from a speaker in the room. 

"Don't be afraid, sweetie," Camilla said between kisses, which had now reached Li-ping's sternum. "I'm not...gonna hurt you...Nor will I...let them." Camilla's mouth reached Li-ping's tiny breasts, and she sucked on the left nipple, a little brown gum drop, while lightly pinching the right one. Then Camilla's trail of kisses continued slowly down to Li-ping's belly and to her hairy pubes, which tickled her face. "Oh, your...beautiful...body." She started licking Li-ping's clitoris.

Li-ping's head was swimming from the still-potent Nigrovum, her moans expressing how high she was; her pussy was buzzing from the virtuosity of Camilla's jiggling tongue. I can't believe I'm letting a lesbian lick me, Li-ping thought; but I like it! She came, and Camilla lapped up the sweet secretion.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps come into the room. Two masked men took one of the naked white men over to the cooks. "Take him," one of the masked men said to the cooks; he also gave the cooks a glass filled with the naked man's come mixed with grass. "Get everything ready in thirty minutes." The masked men came back into the dining room and found the two girls lying on the floor. "What are you doing here? Get up and come with us." The girls followed them out of the dining room and down the stairs to basement two.

Camilla saw the word VIOLENCE written in blood in big letters on a wall. Varese's Offrandes, for soprano and chamber orchestra, could be heard playing on a speaker in the room. Acts of sodomy were everywhere in the room: a naked black man, a naked white man, and the Asian were being fucked in the ass by, respectively, the aboriginal, a black man, and the third white man; these last three in turn were being sodomized by masked men. The first three naked men were also sucking three masked men's cocks as they were receiving cock in their asses. Though none of the naked men were gay, or even remotely bisexual, their drugged stupor made them strangely unconcerned with what was being done to them. Besides, their prostates were getting a marvellous massage. Nigrovum worked in mysterious ways...

Camilla, getting turned on by what she was seeing, wanted to continue watching the gay sex, but the masked men had her and Li-ping continue walking with them. As they continued walking through the room, she saw more anal sex. Dora and Sandy were also being sodomized by masked men, respectively, by Lewis and one of the coprophiliacs who'd smelled Sandy's farts in the 'examination' room; neither woman, of course, knew who was behind them, and the men liked that. As with the six naked men, the Nigrovum desensitized them to what they were experiencing. Her head swaying from side to side from being still high as a kite, Sandy inhaled and exhaled heavily as she felt her man's long, thick cock rhythmically slide deep inside and pull half-way out of her greased asshole.




Camilla Ch. 051



"Such a...tight asshole," her fucker grunted. "I'm in...love with you, pretty corn-hole."

This being her first anal fuck, it shocked and humiliated her, but the sensation was strangely pleasurable. Dora, too, was getting used to anal, even enjoying it a little, in spite of how degraded she felt. Both women reminded themselves of the fortune they were promised, and how it would deliver their loved ones from a grim future. 

Camilla saw TV screens all around with with images of people committing suicide; there were also snuff films. The masked men fucking the naked people blasphemed and shouted obscenities at them: every loud curse made Camilla jump from being startled. She also heard the soprano from the Varese composition sing these disturbing words: "les femmes assassines". "OK," she said to herself, "this party shit isn't fun anymore."

"Camilla and Li-ping," a masked man said. "You two must go down to basement three. Follow me."

Still fighting as hard as she could against the intoxication, Camilla asked, "Where's my friend, Candice? Where's Calina?"

"They're both on basement three," he said as they all went down the stairs.

In the main room on basement three, the word FRAUD was written in big letters in gold on one of the walls. Varese's orchestral work Ameriques was heard on a loudspeaker, while the words of the ceremony continued to be heard on an intercom. 

"Church fraud is the evil of our day," the High Priest said. "The clergy has always been guilty of simony, of selling religious artifacts to gullible believers. Christians are the real false prophets they warn us of. They are our sorcerers and corrupt politicians. They are all thieves and hypocrites. Satan will boil the clergy and Pope in a lake of hot pitch; they'll be bitten by snakes for practicing their false religion. Hail, Satan!"

Camilla could hear more clearly what was being said, being now more successful at fighting off the drug's effects, out of sheer willpower. Her Catholic sensibilities were offended by the High Priest's words.

The masked men took her and Li-ping into a dungeon in which Candice was tied up spread-eagle: a masked man was whipping her back with a cat o'nine tails. "Hey!" Camilla said slurring words. "What are you doing to Candice?"

"The same as what we're doing to you," a masked man answered as he, aided by three other masked men, tied Camilla up by the arms and legs, standing spread-eagle like Candice. Camilla knew she wouldn't have been strong enough to fight the men even without having been drugged, so it was useless even to try. Li-ping was tied up the same way immediately after. "You three girls wandered off during our ritual, against our wishes" he continued. "You must be punished for your disobedience." 

"Wait!" Camilla shouted. "We never agr--" Her protest was interrupted by a lash of a cat o'nine tails on her back. She screamed in pain. Another masked man started whipping Li-ping. Still submissive to the Nigrovum, she felt largely immune from any pain. "Don't hurt her!" Camilla shouted.

More lashes on Camilla's back silenced her. All three women's backs had stripes of dripping crimson blood, which their tormentors licked up greedily between lashings. 

"Why are you licking off my blood, you sick bastards?" she yelled. "Ah!" she screamed to another lashing. 

"To have your sacred Nigrovum in our own blood," her whipper said. "To make us more powerful." He licked her back again, up in a line parallel with her spine. 

Again, these words disturbed her. After having given each girl forty lashes, and licking off all the blood before seeing Camilla's wounds begin to heal, the men stopped. Her pain also ended with surprising speed. She remembered what Dr. Singh had told her about his quickly healing wounds. Was he right about the 'microscopic black eggs'? Was Nigrovum a disease, or a blessing? She, too, had become a miraculously quick healer! Perhaps there would be other powers the Nigrovum would give her; the masked men talked about gaining power from it--why couldn't she also? Maybe this power could help her get out of this, as it increasingly seemed to her, death trap. 

TVs in the dungeon showed violent movies with scenes of dismemberment: Commando, with Schwarzenegger cutting off a soldier's arm; Monty Python and the Holy Grail--the scene with the Black Knight having his arms and legs hacked off; Caligula, the ending, showing a man being decapitated when the emperor is being stabbed to death; and Jaws--the scene when the shark kills a man, and his dismembered leg is seen floating on the water. Another TV showed the scene from The Exorcist, when Regan's head turns all the way around and she says in Burke's voice, "You know what she did? Your cunting daughter?" 

Calina, Vicky, and Jasmine, all still high, entered the room from the other side after receiving great sex from, respectively, Clarence, the aboriginal, and masked Hank (though Jasmine didn't know it was him). The girls went up to the flogging masked men to talk to them.

"Great party," Calina slurred. "Good, hot fucking. I love your home."

"Me, too," Vicky said. "It's a beautiful place." Referring to the naked aboriginal man, she asked. "Where's Tom? I've looked everywhere for him."

"You guys wear such nice suits," Jasmine added. "I wish the masks would come off, though: which o' you guys is Hank?"

Knowing none of these women really liked them, their libertine hosts could smell an obvious attempt to curry favour, and be treated better. "We punish flatterers here!" said the masked man who'd whipped Camilla. Picking up Jasmine, he said. "You have to come with us!" The other two masked men picked up Calina and Vicky. The three girls were taken into another room.

"Where are they taking Jasmine?" Candice slurred.

"We're finding out," Camilla said, using all her strength and willpower to pull her hands out of their tight binding. Since her pain now disappeared quickly, she was encouraged to endure the burning friction of the rope; also, she found that her willpower was giving her extra strength. This must have been the Nigrovum, she thought; with this encouragement, she was sure she'd get herself and her friends out of this hell of a house, and soon. 

As she continued struggling and hoping to get herself, Candice, and Li-ping free before more masked men came into the room, Camilla thought about the fraud that was this party. These Satanists are the false prophets, she thought; their new world order isn't going to be born if I can help it. Corrupt, pandering politicians: that mayor and those crooked cops! Candice was right to have me hide from them back in Luvlee's. Why'd I have to get fired? And where's all that money those men promised us? I bet there isn't any. Thieves and hypocrites, insulting my Church! They're much worse than the most corrupt clergy! 

Finally, she freed one hand, and rushed to untie the other, nervously watching the door to see if the masked men would return. "Liars," she said as she freed her other hand. "Just like my mom when she lied about my dad, saying he was the bad parent, when she was!" Now almost completely sobered up through her willpower, she bent over and started untying her left foot. "Please, maskies, don't come back." Freeing both feet, she went over to Li-ping and untied her, then Candice. She led both doped-up girls over to the door the masked men went out with Calina, Vicky, and Jasmine. 

Slowly and carefully, Camilla opened the door: no masks were there in the dark hallway. She got the staggering girls to follow her in. They got to an ajar door; Camilla could hear some 'maskies' laughing, and she could hear slushing sounds. She looked through the crack of the door: Calina, Vicky, and Jasmine had each been dumped, feet first, into a huge barrel of shit! They were obviously still too intoxicated to know what had been done to them. The three 'masks' took Vicky and Jasmine out, washed them off with a hose, and brought them towards the door, walking out of the room and leaving the door open. They walked down the hall and into another room, away from where Camilla was hiding: they never saw her. "Where do I get my good luck from? Nigrovum?" she asked herself. "Why'd they leave Calina here? Oh, well: I'll get her out. You girls wait here."

Camilla raced into the room. "C'mon, Calina, I'm getting you out of here." Calina's arms weren't in the shit, so that made it easier for Camilla, who tried her best not to vomit from the smell, to get the wasted Russian out of the shit barrel. She got Calina out and hosed her clean as quickly and thoroughly as she could. "C'mon, girl: you're coming with me."

"I'm coming?" Calina asked with a lewd smile.

"Not that meaning," Camilla said. "Let's go." 

After getting Calina out of that room and back in the hall with Candice and Li-ping, Camilla led the girls to where the masks had taken Jasmine and Vicky. She opened a door leading to stairs going down to basement four. "Is this where those bastards took Jasmine and the native girl?" Camilla asked herself. 

"Jasmine?" Candice asked in slurs. "Where are you?"

"We'll find her, sweetie," Camilla said, and they all went down the stairs. "Fuck, it's cold down here." Seeing the other doped-up girls blissfully unaware of the cold, she whispered, "I almost wish I was still high."

She approached the door at the foot of the stairs, and slowly opened it a bit to see inside. On a wall in the dark, torchlit room was the huge word TREACHERY written in frozen blood. "Treachery is right," she whispered. "This is a house of treachery." She heard screams, like those of someone being stabbed. "Oh my God!" she gasped. "Girls, stay here." She went in, hugging her nakedness as best she could to lessen the freezing cold.

She saw naked Clarence, sobering up and shivering in the freezing room. "Damn, it's fuckin' cold!" he shouted. 

She went up beside him. "What's going on?" she asked.

"The masked dudes took me and some of the other naked dudes and girls up a tunnel outside so we could whack off on the grass in a forest," he said, "They said they were makin' more of that drink with our come. Brrr!"

"A tunnel leading outside?" she asked in hopeful surprise. "Where?"

"It's a hidden way out, with a secret door right here in this room, if you can feel your way around in the dark and find it," he explained. "They call it 'Satan's Tail'." 

"Satan's Tail?" She remembered what that Frenchman had said in the 'examination room'. 

"Yeah," Clarence said. Then he shouted out to an adjoining room, "Gimme some fuckin' clothes, man! I'm freezin' my meat off!" 

"Meat is always frozen before it is cooked," a mask said as he walked into the room. Camilla quickly hid behind a chair. There was a baseball bat lying against the wall where she was hiding. The masked man took Clarence with him; they were going towards a kitchen, which was much warmer. She picked up the bat, snuck up behind the mask, and hit him hard on the head, killing him.

"What you doin', girl?" Clarence asked, watching her look in the masked man's pockets. 

"He's gotta have a cell-phone," she said. "Here." She pulled a cell-phone out of his blazer pocket. 

"I'm goin' in the hot room," Clarence said. "I'm sick of this fuckin' cold. Damn!"

"We're all getting outta here," she said. "But I agree, let's warm up in there a bit." She took the phone and bat with her and followed Clarence into the room, which was a large kitchen.

The slow, sombre Varese composition Un grand sommeil noir, for soprano and piano, was heard on a speaker. There was a big table in the middle, covered in blood. Dora, still high, sat on a chair next to it, and a cook was on the other side of the kitchen with his back to the naked people.

"What's with the blood...?" Clarence asked. 

"Shh!" Camilla said as quietly as she could. When they got closer to the table, they saw glasses with more Nigrovum, and dismembered arms, legs, and male and female torsos! The decapitated heads of Sandy, Vicky, and Jasmine were boldly on display on the counter by the cook, who was gutting Sandy's torso, and putting her guts in a meat pie he was preparing to bake for all the masked men! Another finished meat pie had just been taken out of the oven! They could smell the gas on the stove still on. 

Every hair on Camilla's and Clarence's bodies was standing on end, even more so than they were in the freezing room. Clarence, trying desperately to keep his cool, took the baseball bat from Camilla, who was trying to keep from vomiting. The noise she was making caused the cook to turn around; Clarence clubbed him over the head with the bat, killing him. He ran over to get Dora, then they ran out of the kitchen with Camilla. 

They ran back into the freezing room, where four masks had brought Calina, Candice, and Li-ping. 

"Oh, shit!" Clarence said.

"What are you doing?" a mask demanded.

"Saving ourselves," Camilla said, having grabbed a torch from one of the walls. 

The masks came at her and Clarence. He swung his bat at a mask and hit him hard, knocking him down. Camilla pointed her torch at another mask, setting his arm on fire. He screamed and ran into the kitchen. 

Clarence and Camilla continued swinging their bat and torch at the other two masks. The other naked girls were sobering up, Candice especially; and she frantically looked for a door leading to some kind of escape.

"Feel around the walls, Candice!" Camilla yelled. "There's a secret entrance to a tunnel leading outside!"

"Really?" Candice said, feeling around the wall near the word TREACHERY. 

"Oh, shit," said one of the masks. "Stop her before she finds Satan's Tail!" Camilla kept swinging her torch at him and the other mask to stop them from getting near Candice.

The mask whose arm was on fire raced for the kitchen sink; he was too frantic about putting out the fire to pay attention to the stove gas still being on, and when he got too close, a huge explosion blew him across the room, killing him. The whole kitchen was on fire.

Clarence hit the other two distracted masks with the bat. Candice, still feeling around the walls, finally found the secret entrance: the door, hidden in the dark wall, swung open. "I found it!" she shouted.

"Satan's Tail!" Camilla said. C'mon, guys! Let's get out of here!"

As Camilla, Candice, and Clarence got the other three girls to the tunnel entrance, they heard feet coming down the stairs. "Oh, God: they're coming!" Candice said. "Hurry, guys: get in there!"

All the girls got into the tunnel, and Clarence was the last to get in. Five masks rushed into the room. "Oh, shit!" one of them said. "They found Satan's Tail: they're getting away!"

"You damn right, assholes!" Clarence said as he rushed through the doorway, closing the door and bolting it with the bat. He ran like hell after the other girls through the long, upward-sloping tunnel. 

The masks were banging at the door to open it, with no success. One of them took out his cell-phone and called another mask up on the ground floor. "Hurry! Some of the victims are escaping through Satan's Tail. The kitchen on basement four is on fire, and the fire is spreading quickly! Get some people to find the girls: I think Camilla is among them. Help us control this fire: we're gonna die down here!"

The tunnel lead up to the surface in a slow, gradual slope. Eventually the six naked people came to an opening in the ground, which was right in the middle of the forest. 

When they all got out, they weren't safe yet: masks were already outside the house, racing for the forest, where they knew their victims would be. Camilla dialled Bob's number on the cell-phone she'd stolen. "Bob?" she said. "It's Camilla. I'm out in a forest near Grouse Mountain. Please come out and meet me here. I'm in danger!"

"Wait! Whoa!" Bob said, waking up. "It's almost four in the mor..."

"Shut up and listen!" she said. "Crazy men are trying to kill us! Get over here in your van as fast as you can!"

"Kill 'us'?" he asked.

"Yes. I went to this sex party with a bunch of strippers...it's a long story. I'll explain later. Just hurry!"

"How will I find you in a forest in the dark?"

"We're all naked: five girls, one black guy! The crazy men are wearing masks and black suits. Hurry!"

"OK," he said, and hung up. 

The naked sextet ran through the forest and hid in some bushes. The masks were getting closer.

"Don't let them get away!" a mask shouted. "Camilla's with them. She's the sacrificial victim. She mustn't escape!"

"Sacrificial victim?" Candice said. "Who are those sick bastards?"

Pointing their flashlights everywhere, the masks kept looking, with no success. "Where the hell are they?" one of them shouted.

"The house!" another shouted. "The fire is spreading everywhere! We can't put it out! Fire fighters are coming. They aren't in on our set-up; if they find any of the bodies, burned or unburned, they could tell any cops not on our payroll. We have to go back and destroy any evidence of spilled blood that we can find!"

"What about those girls? What about Camilla? We need her!" asked a third mask.

"Fuck them," the second mask said. "If they tell anyone, it's their word against ours. They're naked and far from home. They've got nothing. Our cops will get 'em and arrest 'em sooner or later. Then we'll get Camilla and do the ceremony all over again. If she's grown stronger from the Nigrovum, we'll drug her with a stronger dosage next time. C'mon!" The masks went back to the house.

"Whew," Camilla said. "Now we just need Bob's van to get here."

"What's the address of the mansion?" Candice asked. 

"Wait a minute," Camilla thought. "Oh yeah: 1111 Morse Road."

"I love your photographic memory, Camil," Candice said.

"I'll call Bob again and tell him," Camilla said. She did.

"Good," he said as he was driving through Vancouver. "I know that area. I did some photo shoots out there half a year ago. I'll be there as fast as I can: I'm running red lights and everything."

He arrived and found them all in twenty minutes. He got out of his van, opened the side door for them, and went back to the driver's seat. The naked six emerged from the bushes: Bob was in awe of the nude beauty he saw. Camilla, Candice, Calina, and Clarence, all insouciant of their nudity, just casually got in. Li-ping and Dora, being more modest, had their hands covering their chests and pubes as they got in. Bob drove them away just as the fire engines arrived. 

Camilla sat next to Li-ping; Calina sat next to Clarence; and Candice sat next to Dora. 

"Don't worry, baby," Camilla said with her arm around Li-ping. "It's all over." 

"What about the mayor?" Li-ping asked, sobbing. "Why he didn't protect me?"

"He was one of them, sweetie," Camilla said. "He was one of the bad guys; you just didn't know." 

"Clarence," Calina said, " you want a blow job?"

"Sorry, baby," he said. "After what just happened, I'm all fucked out."

"But I'm still horny," she insisted.

"Calina, we've all been traumatized," Candice said. "Aren't you?"

"I want more sex," Calina said. "Make me forget what happened."

"Calina," Camilla said. "Sex isn't everything; even I know that. Temporary cease fuck, OK?"

"But I'm still hot," Calina said.

"You blow me away, girl," Candice said, shaking her head in disbelief. 

"Blow you?" Calina asked with a lewd grin. "I come over to you."

"Not that kind of blowing," Camilla said. "We all need a rest from sex for a while, I think. My God, all those poor women and men who got murdered by those bastards."

"What about Jasmine?" Candice asked. "She wasn't one of them, was she?"

"I'm sorry, Candice," Camilla said. "She didn't make it." Candice soon began quietly sobbing; Dora put her arms around her to comfort her. 




Camilla Ch. 051



Well, we got away, Camilla thought; but how can I feel safe, knowing those bastards are out there, and I don't even know what they look like? The cops are in on it, so I have no help there. As long as Candice and I are still in Vancouver, we're still in danger. Holding trembling Li-ping in her arms, Camilla looked out the window, up in the night sky, and saw the stars. 

END OF PART ONE



Camilla Ch. 052



Saturday, August 12

Camilla and Candice breathed in deeply and looked out the windows on opposite sides of the airplane as they watched it begin takeoff. They were sitting in seats in the middle, between two aisles.

"Goodbye, Vancouver," Camilla said. "Hello, Toronto, a totally new world for me."

"Hello to your dad, too," Candice said.

"Yeah, I can't wait," Camilla said. "But I can't believe we're really leaving the only city I ever really knew."

"I can't believe we survived another month and a half in that city, after that nightmare sex party."

"I know. Getting away from all those bastards, after what they did, was a real miracle. Speaking of miracles, it's so weird, that drink we had. How it's changed us, given us those powers."

"What was in that drink?" Candice asked.

"Something alien, I'm sure; it's the one good thing that came from that horrible night, though I have a feeling we've had those abilities longer."

"Really? What makes you think that?"

"Well, things Dr. Singh told me," Camilla said. "Ever since I'd had sex with him, he could heal quicker, the way we can. Only now with us it's even better than before, thanks to the drink. After that whipping, to have healed so quickly; we're women Wolverines, you know? The X-Women!"

"Yeah," Candice laughed. Then she and Camilla started whispering. "We can influence things with our minds, too. I'm sure all those masked men ran back into the burning building because we willed it. I know 'cause I wanted them to die so badly that night; they deserved to die."

"And the few survivors dying a week later--the mayor and chief of police--you don't think that was a coincidence?"

"No. If anything, we were the ones who should have died: they had the muscle to make it happen. They died because we willed it to happen, I'm sure of it. If only we could've got rid of them sooner. Poor Jasmine."

"I know," Camilla whispered. "Poor Calina, Candice, and--oh, God--sweet little Li-ping." She fought back sobs. "I assured her we were finally OK in Bob's van; and then she got killed with her mom half a week later."

"And Dora, don't forget. They found and killed her, too."

"At least they didn't get us. I prayed for our protection. I was never really religious, but with all that danger, I've never prayed so intensely in all my life."

"I'm sure all your intense praying was also you using the...what was that drink called?"

"Nigrovum," Camilla said.

"Yeah. And those bastards, trying to find you, killed your mom and Troy?"

"Yeah, I'll miss Troy. I prayed to keep Bob safe, too."

"When's he coming to Toronto?"

"I'm not sure," Camilla said. "He's gotta sort stuff out in Vancouver first, but he is coming. Our porn website is doing so well, he doesn't want to give up a successful business just to stay in B.C."

"Speaking of your porn site," Candice whispered, taking out her iPad. "I think I'll check some of it out, now that we're at a high altitude. I"m so glad our plane has Wi-Fi." She turned on her iPad.

"I'm glad too," Camilla said, taking out her lap-top. "I wanna chat with Ravinder. I hope he's online." She turned her computer on. "I wanna know if he's learned anything new about the Nigrovum in our blood."

"Here we go," Candice said, looking at the home page of www.camillacome.com. She whispered, "I only wish I had a joint to smoke while adoring your beauty."

"You sure the other passengers won't mind you watching one of my fuck films?" Camilla asked.

"You saying that as audibly as you just did is more likely to let them know what I'm watching than my screen is," Candice said, finding a POV video of Bob fucking Camilla. "I'll be careful not to let anyone else see."

Indeed, the man sitting to the right of Camilla heard her (Candice was sitting to her left). He'd already found it difficult not to stare at Camilla, since she was wearing a sexy dark blue evening gown, with her cleavage showing. Now he needed an excuse to get up and walk behind Candice's seat so he could check out the porn with her. He got up, apparently needing to use the washroom.

Candice hit play, and the video began. (You are Bob, for you see the video from Bob's point of view.)

You knock on the door to an apartment (Neither Camilla's nor Bob's, for their safety, since this video was shot three days after the incident at the mansion.) Camilla opens the door.

"Hi," she says to you with a grin. She's wearing a tight white T-shirt, tight white denim pants, and matching high heels. "How can I help you?"

"I'm your neighbour from down the hall," you say. "I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar from you, if that's OK."

"Sure," she says, still smiling. "Come in." You go into the apartment, and she leads you to her living room. "OK, what would you like to do?"

"Aren't we going to get some sugar?" You ask. "Aren't we going to get some in the kitchen?"

"We can 'get some' right here."

"You have sugar here, in your living room?"

"Well," she says with a sly smirk, "that depends."

"Depends on what?"

"What kind of 'sugar' you want."

"What 'kind of sugar'?"

"Yeah," she says. "Come on now, you don't really wanna borrow sugar from me, do you? Who borrows sugar from neighbours? It's not like you can't afford it at the store." She walks up close to you. "What do you really want?"

You pause for a second, then say, "I want you to take off all your clothes, right now."

She laughs briefly in surprise. "Wow, you don't beat around the bush, do you?" She starts pulling off her shirt, revealing her bra-less breasts.

"No, I do other things with the bush," you say, looking down at her endowed chest.

"I hope they're good things," she says, undoing and pulling down her pants. She takes them and her high heels off. Without underwear, she stands completely frontally nude before you. "As you can see, my bush deserves no less."

"Absolutely," you say, looking down at her pubic hair. Looking back up to see all of her, you say, "You have such a beautiful body."

"Why, thank you," she says, giggling. "What do you want me to do now?"

"Could you pose for me, please? I wanna see all of you."

"OK," she says, getting on a coffee table and spreading her legs. You bend down to get a closer look at her delicious pink pussy. "What do you think?" she asks.

"Perfection," you say. "Can I finger you?"

"We'll find out just how well." She spreads her labia wide open for you.

You put your left index finger on her clitoris and tickle it; she starts moaning. You put your right index and long fingers deep inside her vagina. She moans louder.

Candice could sense, with the aid of the Nigrovum in her blood, the presence of that man, standing behind her in the aisle to her left, and watching the porn with her, after having left the washroom. Nothing was more annoying to her than having someone looking over her shoulder, watching what she was watching. Already being well-practiced at using the Nigrovum to influence things and people around her, she decided to use it on him. Closing her eyes so as not to be distracted by the video on her iPad, she concentrated all her thoughts on the man's dick, which she sensed to be about five inches long.

His penis, already partially erect from watching what was now Bob fondling Camilla's left breast while still fingering her clit, started feeling a surprising acceleration of blood flowing inside, engorging him faster than he'd ever felt before. His erection started pointing forward, becoming an embarrassingly visible bulge in the front of his exercise pants. Within seconds, his phallus was perpendicular with his body. Neither able to understand nor able to stop what was happening, he covered his groin area with his hands.

Candice wasn't finished with him yet, though: she caused him to feel so much sexual excitement that he knew he was about to ejaculate in the next few seconds--he was at the point of no return. He rushed for the washroom, but by the time he opened the door, his cream had already soaked his grey pants with two squirts. It was all over his groin and much of his legs; looking back at him as he went in the washroom, Candice laughed out loud.

"That'll learn ya," she said, still laughing. "I'm a Jedi knight of jizz: may the fuck-Force be with me." Pausing her porno, she looked over at Camilla's lap-top and noticed the long conversation she'd been typing with Ravinder. "What does Dr. Singh say, Camil?"

"He says that a book was found in the burned-down remains of the mansion," Camilla whispered in Candice's ear. "The book was all their writings about their Satanic cult, and why they were doing what they did. Originally, they worshipped Set, an ancient Egyptian god. Then, a few years ago, one of them saw me in a park masturbating."

"Were you ever not a bad girl, Camil?"

"When I had my daddy with me, I wasn't. My mom never let me do anything sexual, and I was jealous of other girls who were having sex with their boyfriends, so I used to go into parks and finger myself until I came. I like doing that; I still do it sometimes--I like the way the grass tickles my pussy. And when watch me, I get turned on all the more. Anyway, that perv who saw me playing with myself in the park got so turned on when I came all over the grass, that when I left, he ate my come, along with some of the blades of grass. He felt a change come over him. He learned that I often go to parks to masturbate, and he'd eat the grass with my come on it every time. It wasn't long before he was gaining all the abilities we have: healing quickly, influencing things with your mind, that kind of thing, and other powers. Anyway, with some scientist friends of his, he learned there was something already on the grass, something--well, not of this world. Just as Ravinder suspects. Singh and his doctors are now examining grass all over the Vancouver area to see if the Nigrovum is on it."

"Wow," Candice said. "This is getting so weird."

"Exactly," Camilla whispered. "There must be bad sides to the Nigrovum, 'cause that guy who ate it must've gone crazy, for after sharing the Nigrovum grass with my come on it with the others in his cult, they apparently went crazy, too. It seems they got power hungry, thinking the Nigrovum could give them unlimited powers. In their craziness, they changed from worshipping Set to Satan."

"Weirder and weirder," Candice said.

Camilla kept her voice especially low: "They at the party wanted us to have the Nigrovum in our blood, piss, and shit, and to share it with each other, hence all the fucking, us pissing on the naked guys, and them eating our shit."

"They ate our shit?" Candice whispered.

"Yeah, don't you remember? Oh, yeah, I guess you were too high to notice. Anyway, if we fucked all the time, the Nigrovum would spread between us whenever we came on each other. Getting us all horny would make the Nigrovum focus its power on our passions, intensifying them. In our state of extreme passion, the Satanists would then kill us and eat us, so their own power would grow, as well as their addiction to Nigrovum."

"Sick bastards!" Candice whispered.

"They treated us like animals, degrading us the way they did, so that when we were killed, the Nigrovum would be in the most beast-like form; then it would spread around the world through our wandering, lost souls, spiritually infecting everyone and making them all slaves to their passions. Then the Satanists could easily take over the world, and everyone else would be too mentally weak to stop them."

"Sounds like a B horror movie."

"Sounds like one of those weird conspiracy theories," Camilla said. "Well, remember that they were all nuts; that's why they did what they did. Ravinder warned us not to get crazy feelings with this Nigrovum in us; we might become just as bad as those Satanists. The craziness could have been what killed Mr. Leroy and Mr. Baker. I wonder if Wayne and Mr. Chen died crazy because they had sexual contact with me?"

"Could be," Candice said.

"Ravinder says he and the other doctors are still studying the Nigrovum in Leroy, as well as that in the bodies of the burned masked men they found in the mansion. He'll tell us more when he learns more. Anyway, I'm tired, and I wanna sleep for a while."

"OK," Candice said, looking back at her POV porn, and pressing play. Then she whispered, "When you wake up, let me know if you get horny again during your sleep; I'm getting jealous about those hot dreams you've been having over the past few months."

"We'll know soon enough," Camilla whispered, then nodded off.

The man came out of the washroom with an embarrassed look on his face and his hands covering up the large wet spot on his pants as best he could. He sat back down beside sleeping Camilla. Candice tried to keep from laughing at him, then she focused on her porn, adoring the body of the girl she still loved and hoped to have all to herself once she was reunited with her father. The video continued:

Camilla comes from your fingering; there's a mess all over the wooden living room floor.

Panting, she asks you, "What shall we do now?"

"Can I put my cock in your pretty pussy?" you ask.

"I thought you'd never ask," she says with a grin.

You look down, unzip your pants and pull out your cock, which is three-quarters erect. She lies on her back on the floor with her legs spread wide open. You get on top of her and slowly slide your cock in her pussy. You look up at her sighing face and down at the penetration; you continue looking up and down several times to see yourself going further and further inside, and to see her excited reaction, until you're all the way in, at which time she screams. Her screams are short staccato soprano notes as you keep poking your way inside her. You continue alternately looking up at her face and down at the fucking to see clearly how much pleasure you're giving her.

After watching the fucking on her iPad for the next few minutes, Candice noticed Camilla fidgeting in her seat and moaning. "She doesn't have to tell me about her horniness now," she said.

The man on Camilla's right side also noticed, and while he was getting turned on, Candice was worrying; for Camilla looked like she was doing more than just dreaming. She was acting as though she was having sex with an invisible man!

If that's a dream, Candice thought, I wanna dream like that too.

Camilla was dreaming that her deceased first two lovers, Mr. Chen and Wayne, were fucking her ass and pussy, respectively.

Mr. Chen was on the floor on his back; she lay on her back on top of him; Wayne was on top of her in the missionary position. The naked lovers were in the mansion, on the fourth floor, where LUST was written, but the house was on fire: flames closely surrounded them. Wayne was squeezing her tits and French-kissing her.

Camilla's dress was pulled up, and her legs were up and spread wide open, just as they were in her dream. She was wearing no panties, and her pussy and asshole were showing. Her hips were gyrating faster and faster. Candice saw, to her horror, that Camilla's pussy and asshole were stretched open, as though cocks were probing her! Her pussy was wide open enough to have accommodated Wayne's large phallus, and her asshole was opened less wide, to have accommodated Chen's smaller penis. Her breasts looked as though they were being squeezed, and her mouth was open, with her tongue flickering, as though she were French-kissing someone.

"Holy fuck," she whispered. She tried pulling down Camilla's legs and dress, but felt as if something invisible were in the way.

"That is so hot," the man moaned as he ogled Camilla.

Angered by his lack of respect for her friend and lover, Candice decided it was time to use more psychic manipulation on him. She focused all her concentration on his dick, trying her best to block out her worries about Camilla.

After a few seconds, his partially-erect penis became quickly engorged again. He was shocked and frightened to find himself with another full erection pushing his wet pants forward in an embarrassing point. He could feel an imminent climax.

"Not again," he said, rushing back to the washroom and coming as he opened the door.

Camilla came, too, splashing all over the seat in front of her. Some passengers looked at her in shock. Sheepishly grinning, she said, "Sorry," to them, then pulled her dress down to cover her legs. She got out some wet napkins to clean herself off. "Well, at least I didn't mess up my dress," she whispered to Candice, whose mouth was still wide-open in shock. "I don't believe it: that was my first wet dream in years."

"Camilla," Candice said. "I don't think that was just a wet dream."



Camilla Ch. 053



"Ghosts fucking me in my sleep?" sneering Camilla whispered to Candice, hoping the other passengers on the airplane wouldn't hear. "Come on, Candice. You're sounding like those Satanic crazies. There's probably a perfectly rational explanation for what happened."

"OK," Candice whispered. "Like what? What could have made your pussy and asshole open up like that, without anything in them?"

"The Nigrovum, more than likely," Camilla said. "It seems to intensify feelings, and grant our wishes; that's what Dr. Singh thinks, anyway. We wanna heal, so we heal quicker. We wanted the Satanists to die, so they died. In my dream, I wanted to get laid, so I imagined I was really getting cock inside me; so you saw what you saw."

"Yeah," Candice said. "So did a bunch of other passengers."

"Well, I'll have to be careful not to sleep in public places. I can't control my subconscious desires, of course. Ever since that Satanic party, I haven't been laid at all, except for the few fuck videos I made with Bob. I was bound to dream like I did, to satisfy my sexual frustration. Wish-fulfillment, all the way."

"If it's all about wish-fulfillment, how did your teachers die?"

"Maybe they were self-destructive," Camilla said, shrugging. "I dunno."

The man who was watching Camilla during her dream, and who earlier had been watching Candice's iPad behind her back, didn't return to his seat after his second embarrassing ejaculation. Candice noticed his continuing absence among the other passengers.  I bet he's hiding in the washroom for the rest of the ride, she thought, snickering to herself. 

**************

Agape Mennon sat on a chair in the 'Arrivals' area of Toronto Pearson International Airport; he had a hip flask of Jim Beam in his hand. Already tipsy from several swigs, he was looking at a photo of his daughter when she was six, then up at the clock (it was 6:23 AM), then at the schedule (ETA fifteen minutes), then back at the photo; this cycle of gazes had been going on uninterrupted for the past ten minutes. 

"My sweet little baby," he said as he gazed at the smiling, innocent, skinny, pig-tailed Camilla of his photograph, which he'd had in his wallet all those years since he'd divorced Collette. "Look at those baby blue eyes." He knew the divorce had devastated her, but one wouldn't have known that to hear the elation in her voice when she'd called him long distance from Vancouver over a month ago, asking if she could see him again. Over a decade had gone by since he'd last seen her, and he had no idea what to expect of her as she was now. He'd seen no recent photographs of her; the one in his hand was his most recent.

And what of her personality? On the phone she sounded as ebullient with joy as she had been before the divorce; but sometimes bitterness hides behind smiles. He'd always felt guilty about leaving her fatherless, and some kind of evil had to have grown from the hysterical tears she'd cried from the day he had to say good-bye to her. 

**************

The airplane was coming down, about to touch the ground. Camilla looked out the window in nervous expectation. Her heart was pounding.

"Oh, God," she said in a trembling voice. "I'm gonna see him."

**************

Agape took another swig from his flask of bourbon as he looked at the schedule, which indicated her plane's landing.

"Oh, God," he said. "I'm gonna see her."

**************

After getting into the airport, the girls went to the nearest washroom. Camilla freshened up, putting on more bright makeup and nervously looking over herself in the mirror.

"Why are you so anxious to look perfect, Camil?" Candice asked as she re-applied some makeup. "You're seeing your dad, not going on a date."

"I know," Camilla said as she put red lipstick on. "I want him to be proud to have a beautiful daughter."

"You don't have to work so hard to do that," Candice said.

"I wanna be more beautiful than beautiful," Camilla said, checking her dark blue evening gown for any problems. "No, I didn't get any come on it from that dream--good." Then she checked her cleavage to see that a sufficiently titillating amount was showing. "I want him to know that I'm not the skinny, homely child I once was; I've blossomed gloriously, and I want him to be proud...OK, I'm ready. Let's go." 

"OK," Candice said. "Don't be in such a hurry. Let me put my stuff in my purse, and we'll go."

"I can't wait any longer. C'mon!" Camilla took Candice by the arm and led her out of the washroom. 

As they went through the halls of the airport, Candice saw that man whom she'd made cream his pants on the airplane. He blushed when his wife, just then meeting him in the 'Arrivals' section, saw his still-wet pants. Candice giggled. "Serves you right, asshole," she said. 

Camilla's eyes raced all over the large room, searching through the sea of waiting people to find her dad. Then she saw him. "Oh, my God," she said. "Candice, there he is." She pointed him out. Tall, with wisps of grey hair intermixed with his more dominant blond, and in a white short-sleeved dress shirt and dark blue dress pants, the forty-something man indeed looked to Candice like Mr. Grisham, only much better-looking. "Daddy!" A tear ran down Camilla's cheek. "Daddy, over here!" 

Agape looked up from his photo and saw his 18-year-old daughter for the first time. He recognized the face under all the heavy makeup, but he didn't recognize the body at all. No longer the skinny little girl of his photo, she was now a buxom, shapely, callipygian beauty. His jaw dropped, and his eyes almost fell out from his lack of belief of what they were telling him. "How did an owl such as I produce a pussycat like that?" he asked himself as he saw her approaching. "Is that really my daughter?"

She and Candice were coming closer, slowed down only by their heavy bags. He was too awed by her transformation, from childlike flatlands to womanly topography, to think to walk over and help them with their luggage. He kept looking up from his photo to see the statuesque Aphrodite coming up to him, then back down at the photo of his once-innocent child, as would a confused customs official eyeing a dubious passport. 

Finally, the girls reached him. Camilla threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Kissing him hard on the cheek, she said, "Oh, Daddy! It's ecstasy to see you again."

"NIce assonance," he said. 

Looking back at her behind and grinning, she said, "Oh, thank you."

Blushing and astonished at her words, he stammered, "I meant--uh, I wasn't talking about--uh, the word asson--, uh..."

Candice was as surprised by Camilla's excessive affection as he was; Camilla was still hugging him tightly. "Daddy?" she asked after smelling his breath. "Have you been drinking?"

"Yeah," he said. "Hair of the dog." 

"Oh, Daddy, she took you away from me," Camilla said in sobs. 

"Sweetie," he said nervously, taking her arms from his waist. "W-why don't I take you home now? I've set up the guest bedroom to accommodate both of you. You must be tired."

"Yeah, okay," Camilla said. "Oh, where are my manners? Daddy, this is my best friend, Candice; Candice, my daddy. His name's Agape."

Shaking his hand, Candice said, "Agape; that's a unique name."

"It means 'love'," Camilla said with an ear-to-ear smile, her eyes beaming up at him. She was fidgeting with delight, like a giddy little girl, at finally being with him again. 

"Let's go," he said, putting his flask in his pocket and taking the girls' heavier bags. "It's raining outside, Camilla. Maybe I should let you use my raincoat when we go out to get a taxi." 

As they were going over to the doors leading outside, Camilla said, "Oh, I don't mind a little rain. I like the way I look in this dress, and I want to show it off; a little rain on me will make me look even spicier."

If only you did mind a little rain, he thought; every other man in this airport wants you to show off your near-naked 'spiciness', too. 

They waited out in the rain; Agape offered the girls his umbrella. 

"Thanks," Candice said, opening it up.

"You use it," Camilla said. "I don't mind getting wet." The rain was making her erect nipples poke through her dress, and she liked how sexy it made her look. 

"You'll catch your death of cold," he said, not comfortable with her exhibitionism. "Please, baby; at least wear my raincoat."

"No, I'm OK, Daddy, really. Hey, there's an empty cab; let's get it!" They did, and got to Agape's home, a house in a quiet neighbourhood, in about a half hour. 

*****************

"Here's your room, girls," Agape said. "There's a bathroom over there for both of you, so you have perfect privacy."

"Thanks, Mr. Mennon," Candice said. "I'll find myself an apartment really quick; you don't need to worry about me staying here too long."

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said. "You're my guest; stay as long as you need to. There's no great hurry for you to find a new place. Have yourselves a shower, then sleep for as long as you like; when you're all rested up, I'll take you both out to dinner tonight. I know a great Italian restaurant we can go to."

"Great. Thanks, Daddy," Camilla said. He left them, and she closed the door. "Let's take a shower together; it'll save my dad on the water bills."

"It'll also be fun," Candice said. "We haven't done that in a while." She kissed Camilla on the lips, and the girls took off their clothes and makeup.

The naked girls got into the shower stall; it was a small one, but they weren't going to need a lot of space anyway. They turned on the water, took the hand-held shower head and sprayed the fairly-hot water on each other's bodies, and each got a bar of soap to lather up and use on each other. Camilla soaped up Candice's arms and armpits while softly pecking her on the lips; Candice soaped up Camilla's breasts. The steam from the water didn't out-fog their heavy breathing by much, for soon Candice was rubbing the lather on Camilla's pubic hair and vulva, while Camilla soaped up Candice's tits. The pecks on the lips quickly evolved into French-kissing. Candice put her soaped-up finger inside Camilla's anus while Camilla got the lather on Candice's pussy. Again, the wet of the water on the girls' groin areas was in close competition with the wet they felt from their excitement. Camilla soaped up Candice's asshole while Candice rubbed soap all over Camilla's back and arms. 

They rinsed each other off, then Candice soaped up Camilla's legs and feet, all the while licking her pussy. Camilla rubbed shampoo in Candice's hair as she was being eaten out. Candice was sucking on Camilla's clitoris, buzzing and humming on it as well as breathing heavily on it. This made Camilla sigh at higher and higher pitches until she finally screamed in whistle register and came all over Candice's happy face. After rinsing Candice's hair off, Camilla was startled to hear a knock on the bedroom door. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Is everything OK in there?" he asked. "I heard a shrill scream."

"Oh, believe me, Mr. Mennon," Candice said in sighs. "That kind of scream can only be a good one."

"Oh?" he asked, guessing at Candice's meaning.

"Really, Daddy," Camilla sighed. "Everything's fantastic in here." 

"If you say so," he said, leaving them. I think I know what kind of 'best friends' they are, he thought. Oh well: I'm liberal enough to accept it. If that's as debauched as Camilla has gotten from my absence in her life, I consider her lucky. 

"OK, Candice," Camilla said, squatting down with the soap. "Now it's your turn." She peed down the drain as she soaped up Candice's legs and licked her pussy, while Candice shampooed Camilla's hair and moaned. 

*****************

The girls slept until lunchtime, then got up, put on their dresses, and joined Agape for lunch. He made them all chicken sandwiches.

"So, what do you teach at York University, Mr. Mennon?" Candice asked before taking a bite of her sandwich.

"The same thing I'm studying there; English literature," Camilla said. "Though I'll also be minoring in French literature. There's a course on French erotic literature I'm taking; I can't wait for that." 

"Is your French good enough to study that?" he asked.

"The university thinks so; they accepted me for that course," Camilla said. "I wanna be just like my Daddy, and be a professor one day."

"Wow," Candice said. "I always knew you were smart enough to do that, Camil."

"What about you, Candice?" he asked. "Are you studying at York, too?"

"Oh, no," she said. "I'm not smart enough to do university. I'll just find a stripping job here." 

"Oh," he said, a bit surprised. "Kind of hard work, isn't that? I mean, psychologically?"

"Well, there are a lot of creeps," she said. "But I can handle that, don't worry. I now especially have the power to handle those kinds of guys." 

Not at all understanding what she meant by that, he decided to change the subject back to Camilla's studies. "Since you want to become a prof, Camilla, you may want to take a look at my library in the other room over there. Reading a number of my books can give you a leg-up over the other students."

"Great," Camilla said. "I wanna have a look." She got up, took her sandwich with her, and went into his study. She was in awe at what she found there: Books, books, and more books! He had bookshelves completely covering three of the four walls in the room, with no spare space anywhere. Though there were no Hindi or Sanskrit books on his shelves, as there were in Ravinder's home, his books still showed a wealth of erudition. Not only were there the usual writers, Shakespeare (complete works), Chaucer, Spenser, Milton, Donne, Yeats, Keats, Byron, Blake, Shelley, e e cummings, TS Eliot, and many others, there were also numerous scholarly studies on many of those writers and others, including several written by himself! She looked at the ones he'd written, and noticed rave reviews on the backs of some of them. "Oh, Daddy," she said, almost getting dizzy, "you're the sexiest Daddy of them all." 

*****************

That evening, the three of them went out to the Italian restaurant Agape had mentioned before. He helped himself to a generous amount of red wine, as did Candice, knowing Camilla would drive them all back home. 

Sipping his wine, he pulled out his cell-phone. "Here," he said to Camilla. "I want you to see this picture."

"Sure," she said. She frowned slightly when she saw a picture of a black-haired, black-eyed woman about his age, and mentally guessed who she was. "Who's this?"

"Carrie Minnear," he said. "A fellow professor at York, she's also been my girlfriend for the past three years."

"She seems very nice," Camilla said with a fake smile, hiding her annoyance at this intrusion, as she saw Carrie, in their lives. "Very pretty; she looks like Mom." 

"Yeah," he said, putting the phone away and sipping his wine again. "I've always had a weakness for women with long black hair."

I've always had a hatred for women who look like that, Camilla thought underneath her smile. 

*****************

That night in their room, naked Candice was on the bed masturbating as she watched, on her iPad, a BDSM video of Camilla, naked, tied-up, and whipped by Bob. It amazed Candice to see Camilla receive so many lashes with a whip, causing so many stripes of wet blood on her back, only to see it all heal so quickly after Bob had licked it off her. Again, it was all POV, so one saw the licking and the healing up close. "You're so powerful, Camilla," Candice said in awe of the girl she loved. "No one can stop you." 

"It's great that Bob and I can do BDSM, thanks to Nigrovum," naked Camilla said from the bathroom. "Without it, I would never have even considered it. Now there's a new category for my website, and it's drawing lots of viewers, who are just as amazed as you are to see all those wounds heal so fast."

"Watching you in these videos," Candice said after turning off the iPad, "I can only say you're a goddess."

"Thanks," Camilla said as she left the bathroom. Getting on the bed with Candice, she asked, "But what d'you think of Daddy? Speaking of gods, isn't he, well, just Zeus-like? If I'm a goddess, I'm Athena, sprung right from his forehead." She kissed Candice on the cheek.

"Well, I don't know if I'd call him 'Zeus-like'," Candice said, kissing Camilla on the lips. "But I can see where you get your beauty from: he's sure cute. He looks like Grisham, only better." She put her iPad away and took Camilla in her arms.

"You wanna fuck him?" Camilla asked as she kissed Candice on the neck. She fondled Candice's left tit.

"But he's your dad," Candice said, no longer sighing from shock at what Camilla had just said. "Wouldn't that be creepy?"

"I don't mind," Camilla said. "Oh, come on. Have an open mind. I want you to--really." She started fingering Candice's pussy.

"But what about his girlfriend?" Candice moaned, closing her eyes.

"That's why I want to fuck him." Camilla licked Candice's right nipple.

"This sounds like jealousy. Oh!"

"No," Camilla said with more than a little defensiveness as she kept licking. "I...think Carrie...will be bad...for him." She sucked on Candice's right tit while putting her index and long fingers up the redhead's pussy.

"How do you...know that? Ah! You don't...even know her."

"That black hair...and black eyes...like Mommy."

"So?" Candice ran one hand through Camilla's hair and fondled her left tit with the other. 

"I'm...getting premonitions," Camilla said as she kissed Candice's belly. "The Nigrovum's telling me...Carrie will...hurt him...Fuck him for me...I wanna watch."

"Eww!" Candice said, pushing Camilla away and looking in her eyes in shock. "The Nigrovum's making you nuts, girl."

"No," Camilla said, looking Candice straight in the eyes and working the Nigrovum on her mind. "I wanna watch you make him feel good. He's an unhappy man, and an alcoholic, as you could see today. I'm sure the divorce drove him to drink. I love him; I wanna make him happy, that's all."

"Well..." Candice said, not even noticing her own hypnosis. "OK. For you I will. But he likes brunettes, doesn't he?"

"Buy a black wig," Camilla said, diving down on Candice's pussy. "Or dye...your hair...black." Her tongue vibrated rapidly against Candice's clitoris; Candice held and caressed Camilla's head in her hands as the cunnilingus continued. Camilla wrapped her lips around Candice's labia and gently tugged on them; then she pushed Candice's legs up so she could lick her asshole. As her tongue tickled the anal orifice, Camilla slowly and carefully put her fingers inside Candice's cunt, then she fisted her. Her fingers touching Candice's G-spot and A-spot, she made Candice orgasm within a few minutes. 

******************

Agape dreamed of being with Carrie that night.

They were in a park, walking together on a dark, starless night. Only the moon and a few far away streetlights gave any illumination. He looked away from her for a second to see a beautiful lake to his left; when he looked back, he no longer saw Carrie. Instead, he saw Candice, but with black hair and wearing Camilla's dark blue dress.

"Where's Carrie?" he asked, confused.

"Who cares?" Candice asked. "Do you like my tits, Mr. Mennon? You've been staring at them all night."

"No, I haven't," he said. "I don't think of you that..."

"D'you wanna see them?" she asked, holding the shoulder straps of her dress as if about to take it off. "I'll get naked for you, if you like."

"Gee, I don't know if..."

Before he could finish, the dress fell to the ground. Without underwear, Candice was now completely naked before him. No longer ginger-coloured, her pubic hair was as black as Collette's, as were her eyes, fingernails, toenails, and even her nipples. She squatted down, unzipped Agape's pants, and pulled out his cock. Looking up at him submissively, she began sucking him off. 




Camilla Ch. 053



******************

Fidgeting on his back in bed, Agape's hardening penis was slowly rising up towards the ceiling, restrained only by his underwear. 

******************

"Do you like that, Mr. Mennon?" Candice asked after taking his cock out of her mouth, and licking the tip of his knob. "Is my mouth pleasing you?" She kissed it where his dick-hole was, then licked it underneath, where his protruding corpus spongiosum was. Holding his balls in her hands, she gently jiggled them. "Such a beautiful phallus," she said as she kept kissing and licking it. "A giver of life...of my beautiful life." She put his cock back in her mouth.

"What?" he said, looking down in shock.

He saw Camilla's head, deep-throating him. Shocked, he suddenly ejaculated.

******************

Agape woke up all wet. He pulled the bedsheets aside and saw them and his underwear in a lake of come.

"What a sick dream," he said, reeling from it. "My first wet dream in ages." He remained shaking for at least an hour after that. 

******************

As she lay in bed next to sleeping Candice, Camilla looked up at the ceiling. I hope that made you feel good, Daddy, she thought. 



Camilla Ch. 054



On Sunday morning, naked Candice was in her and Camilla's bathroom looking at her hair and nails. Camilla, also naked, came up behind Candice and put her hands on Candice's tits. She gave them a gentle squeeze, then rubbed her fingers around the outer areolae.

"Oh, that feels good, Camil," Candice moaned. "But to make your dad like me, if you want my hair dyed black, or for me to wear a black wig, neither may be necessary. Do you see the black hairs I have mixed in with my red?"

Camilla took a good look at Candice's hair. "Yeah, you do have a few black hairs there," she said. "A few of your pubic hairs are black, too." Camilla ran her fingers through Candice's now ginger and black pubes. "My hair seems a darker blonde, too. I bet I've got some new black mixed in there."

"D'you think it's the Nigrovum?" Candice asked in sighs.

"More than likely. Ravinder tells me in his e-mails that his finger- and toenails are getting blacker and blacker, just like ours." Looking at her fingernails and showing them to Candice, Camilla said, "See?" The black lines were now thicker, crooked stripes, the sides of which seemed to dissolve into the transparent look of the remaining normal areas in between.

"Eww, yeah, mine are the same. This is scaring me a bit."

"Well, nail polish will cover it," Camilla said, reaching for hers. "If this black is the worst of Nigrovum's side effects, I wouldn't worry about it. Remember: we heal quickly, and we have psychic powers."

"Yeah, but what if it makes us crazy, like those Satanists?" Candice asked.

"I figure if we avoid using it to hurt people, we should be OK. We'll use Nigrovum only for good. Speaking of good, I hope Daddy had a good dream last night. I made him dream of you with black hair, and I got him excited so he'd like you."

"I can't help thinking that's creepy, Camil."

"It's not like I physically touched him, Candice; I did it psychically." Camilla looked intensely in Candice's eyes, and said, "You must seduce him, Candice; make him forget about Carrie."

"OK, OK; don't get psychic on me. I'll do it. I'd do anything for you, you know that, baby."

"Good. Now let's get dressed and find out about Daddy's dream."

***************

"Good morning, Daddy," Camilla said as she and Candice went into the kitchen to see Agape, who was cooking breakfast for them. She kissed her father on the cheek, then sat at the kitchen table beside Candice. "Did you have pleasant dreams?"

"No, not at all," he said with a shudder, giving the girls plates with scrambled eggs and toast.

"Oh?" Camilla asked with worry in her eyes. "What did you dream about?"

"I feel a little uncomfortable talking about it," he said as he brought his own plate of breakfast to the table and sat down.

"Oh, it was just a dream," Camilla said. "How bad could it be?"

"Well," he said haltingly. "First there were Carrie and I, then Carrie became Candice, who...uh; then Candice suddenly became you, who...uh, I'd rather not say."

"That's OK, Daddy," Camilla said, blushing and knowing already what he'd really dreamt.

"It was just a dream, Mr. Mennon," Candice said, brushing her leg against his and looking lewdly and intensely in his eyes. "Don't worry about it."

Agape froze, with a wide-eyed look of shock. Candice sensed strong resistance in him.

Worried about where the conversation might be heading, Camilla changed the subject. "What's on the agenda for today, Daddy?"

"Church," he said, staring down Candice. "After a dream like the one I had, only Mass will make me feel better. Girls, please wear nice dresses there, OK?"

"Anything you say, Daddy. We'll change as soon as we finish breakfast, which is delicious, by the way. Thanks."

***************

Back in their bedroom, the girls undressed and found some appropriate dresses to wear to church.

"Oh, God: Daddy saw me blowing him in his dream," Camilla said as she pulled off her panties.

"Eww!" Candice said.

"I meant for him to see only you, Candice. I must've gotten clumsy when I manipulated his dream. I'll have to be more careful and focused next time."

"His resistance to Nigrovum is strong," Candice said. "We'll need more than that for me to seduce him, that sweet old saint. I recommend drugs." She, in her underwear, put on a conservative-looking blue and white dress.

"Let's be careful with that, OK?" Camilla said as she, naked, put on her green, flower-patterned dress. "I need to know if that sweet old saint is cool about dope first. If he is, we'll ease him into party mode slowly. He already drinks, so that means we're already half way there. Maybe I can drop a pill in his bourbon and mix it in so he doesn't know. By the way, how are you, as new to Toronto as I am, going to find a dope connection ASAP?"

"As soon as I find an apartment, I'll hunt for a stripping job. Shouldn't take too long; then I'm sure a dope connection will be found in the new strip joint where I work--surely at least a few, if not all, of the strippers will have a seller for a boyfriend or a customer. Since I just made your dad uncomfortable, he'll want me gone; so I'll get my shit together really quickly. Just promise me, Camil, that when I move out, that we'll still see each other? I mean, you living with your dad and all,..."

"Of course we'll still fuck," Camilla said, hugging Candice and kissing her on the lips. "I need you to come here for partying and seducing Daddy. While he's wasted and unconscious, we'll make love, too." And I need to look at other men, Camilla thought; I'm beginning to think weird thoughts about Daddy--I'd better watch myself.

***************

Agape and the girls sat up at the front pew in church. The first reading was from Genesis 6:1-8, the beginning of the story of the Great Flood. The responsorial Psalm was 115:1-8, about the folly of idolatry. The second reading was from 1 Corinthians 10:14--22, again about the evil of idolatry. The Gospel reading was from John 6:35-58, in which Jesus says, "I am the bread of life."

After the Gospel reading, Father Don Josiah began his homily. "The sons of God went in unto the the daughters of men," he said. "Who were the 'sons of God'? Were they the divine council of the major gods from Levantine Bronze and Iron Age texts, from ancient pagan times? Were they pagan gods? Were they fallen angels, as some have supposed? In other words, were they devils? Our holy Church teaches that they were men, the descendants of righteous Seth; they were good, but then they rebelled against God and married the 'daughters of men', or of Cain, the first murderer. From their unholy union they had children, the Nephilim, giants--heroes, perhaps, to the pagans, but giants only in sin to Christians. From this sinfulness grew even more gigantic sin, leading to wickedness everywhere in the world; thus God repented of creating man, and caused the Flood to drown the wicked and wipe all the sin away."

Agape raptly paid attention; Candice sat bored; Camilla looked in the priest's eyes, thinking the tall, forty-something man was cute.

"However we choose to think about the 'sons of God'," Father Josiah continued, "as gods, as fallen angels turned into devils, or as men fallen in sin, we can see in this story an allegory about the evils of idolatry. As Christians, we are to be married to God: He is the groom; we are the bride. We mustn't marry the 'sons of God', as the wicked, idolatrous daughters of Cain did. We must marry the only-begotten Son of God, Jesus Christ."

Camilla looked intensely in the eyes of the priest, visualizing a rose passing in the air towards him. Seeing the pretty girl's aggressive gaze, he felt a strange but titillating sensation all around his penis: it felt as though a hand was stroking it; he was beginning to develop an erection. He paused nervously, then continued.

"The sons of God...must not be seen...as divine," he continued with his voice occasionally cracking into an edgy falsetto. "If we think of...them as divine, we make them...into idols...devils. We are Christians, not Satanists."

Candice was startled by that last word. Then she saw the way Camilla was looking at the priest. No, Camilla, she thought; is nothing sacred to you?

"Idols cannot speak...or see," he continued, his penis rising. "Neither can we...if we adore them. Idolatry is...a false love...that blinds us. As Shakespeare wrote...in A Midsummer Night's Dream, 'Love looks not...with the eyes...but with the mind.'"  

"Cute, and intelligent," Camilla whispered. "Sexy in my eyes." She continued giving him his psychic hand job.

Candice looked in horror at her. Not with a priest, Camilla, she thought.

"St. Paul tells us...to flee the worship of idols," he said in halts and desperately-controlled moans. "You ask, 'Who worships idols...in today's world?' Well, we no longer pray...to carved statues, of course, but when...we idealize someone we're...in love with, we're blind to...their faults. They then can...take advantage of...our foolish doting, and hurt us. When we idealize...radical political ideology, like Communism, Naziism, or terrorism, our fanaticism can lead us...to murder. When we excessively admire movie stars...or rock stars, we make ourselves feel inferior for...not measuring up...to their perceived perfection; trying to be...equal to such unrealistic images is impossible. We can really...hurt ourselves, and others, in these ways. In these ways, we make false gods...of who or what...we so foolishly adore. We make mediators of...them between God and us, and this is...a sin that separates us...from God. There is only...one mediator between God...and man: Jesus."

Camilla visualized the rose touching the priest's chest. His penis got harder from that inexplicable feeling of a hand jerking him off. Again, he paused nervously, noting the lewd look in her eyes.

"Don't be pagans," he stammered. "Don't make heroes out...of giant devils. Love Jesus, the bread of life, who came down...from heaven, like manna."

"Nigrovum," Camilla whispered. "Manna from heaven."

"If you think...of the sons...of God as...angels coming down...from heaven to...bless you," the priest continued, blushingly noting the looks of concern beginning to develop on the faces of his parishioners, "you'll be...like the wicked daughters of men--idolaters. Your children will...be monsters of sin, like the Nephilim, and society will...be destroyed, as in...the Great Flood. There's only...one Son of God: Jesus. Worship only Him." Camilla, noting his embarrassment, decided to show mercy and stop exciting him...for the time being.

Later, Agape, Candice, and Camilla went up to take Communion. Father Josiah put the Host on Agape's tongue, saying, "The body of Christ." When he put the Host on Candice's sensuous tongue, he felt that invisible hand touch his penis again. Though Candice had enough respect for the clergy not to try to get him excited, he still felt nervous around her; for her curves were an enticing prelude to those of Camilla, who'd made very clear her sexual interest in him. "Th-the body of Christ," he said to Candice. His penis was now almost as erect as it had been during his homily.

Camilla's turn came. She slightly flickered her tongue as she stuck it out to receive the Host. "Th-the b-body of Ch-Christ," he said as he looked in her lascivious eyes and, with a shaky hand, put the Host on her tongue. As he moved his hand down from her mouth, she used her psychic powers to make his hand brush against her left breast. Since she was naked under her dress, he could feel her erect nipple pointing through. "Pardon me!" he whispered with the reddest of faces. She just sucked on the Host and looked in his eyes with lewd approval. The invisible hand she was psychically controlling stroked his phallus expertly to make it point perpendicularly forward through his loose-fitting pants. He mentally thanked God for maintaining the tradition of priests wearing loose robes during Mass. Camilla visualized that 'rose' to be glowing in his heart, and sensed his now-full erection to be about six and a half inches.

During the prayer after Communion, Agape prayed for better dreams and growing love with Carrie; Candice prayed for Camilla, hoping she'd behave; Camilla prayed for her dad to prefer Candice to Carrie; it seems unnecessary to relate what the sweating priest was praying for.

*****************

"Camilla, how could you?" Candice asked as she and Camilla went into their bedroom after coming home from Mass that afternoon. "You got a priest horny? That's sacrilegious!"

"Candice, I'm as Catholic as you are," Camilla said, taking off her dress. "But I don't agree with our priests having to be celibate. They should be allowed to get married." Having kicked off her shoes, she was now naked.

"You wanna marry a priest?" Candice asked with a sneer.

"Well, I don't know about that, but I'd sure like to play house with that priest; make him speak in tongues." Camilla kissed Candice on the cheek.

"Camilla, that's awful. He's a man of God."

"He can go to confession after." Camila lay on her back on the bed with her legs wide open, and Candice started licking her pussy.

As Candice, still dressed, was licking her, Camilla used Nigrovum to get Candice hot. She felt her clitoris hardening, her labia swelling, and her vagina opening up as if a cock was going inside.

"Oh!" Candice moaned between licks. "You can...use Nigrovum on...me that way...any time...Ah!" She pulled her panties off in anticipation of soiling them with her cream. Soon it felt as if a finger was pushing inside her asshole. Candice returned the favour by sliding her finger inside Camilla's. Candice sucked and buzzed on Camilla's clitoris while that psychic cock was pressing against Candice's A-spot. Both girls were as wet in their pussies as they were in their salivating mouths. Soon, Camilla splashed her come all over Candice's face, while Candice came seconds after. After licking the remaining come off of Camilla's twat, she flipped her dress up so Camilla could get down and lick her love juice away.

*****************

That night, the girls were fast asleep, as was Agape.

Camilla was dreaming about the 'sons of God'.

Dressed in the clothes of women from Biblical times, Camilla and Candice, standing on a grassy heath, looked up at the starless night sky. Only an ominous moon shone. They saw the sons of God looking down on them from heaven. There were three of them, with devils' wings and faces like the grotesque, grinning masks those Satanists wore. They flew down to the earth and stood before Camilla and Candice, looking at the girls and salaciously licking their lips.

"What would you have with us?" Candice asked them.

"We would go in unto you," said one of the sons of God. "To uncover your nakedness."

Candice was no longer seen in the dream, and Camilla immediately became naked, as if her clothes had magically disappeared. She got on the ground on all fours, with her legs spread wide open so her asshole and pussy would invite the sons of God in. Indeed, both those holes were filled with huge cock right away, as was her mouth with the cock of the third son of God. As they pushed in and pulled out, the sons of God laughed at her in their eerie, distorted voices, and she squealed and screamed loudly.

Agape was woken up from hearing Camilla's screaming, and he went into the hall, turning on the light. He went down the hall to the girls' bedroom and knocked on the door. "Is everything alright in there?" he asked. I hope those are just more screams of pleasure, he thought; for some terror seems to be mixed in there, too.

Naked Candice woke up, got out of bed and went over to the door, not bothering to put anything on. She opened the door slightly, allowing him to see her right thigh and leg. Looking deeply in his eyes, she said, "Sorry about the noise, Mr. Mennon, but we're OK in here." She opened the door a little wider, allowing him to see her left breast and some of her tigress-coloured pubic hair.

"Oh, OK, no problem. Good night," he said with a red face, and hurried back to his room. I don't know about that Candice, he thought.

She closed the door and watched her lover as she was dreaming. Camilla was on all fours with her legs wide open and her ass sticking out, just as in her dream. Her vagina and anus were stretched open, as though they were being stuffed with big cocks, just as when she was on the airplane. He mouth was wide open, as if she were sucking dick: indeed, her right cheek puffed out, as though a cock was pushing inside and against it. Candice sat on a chair next to the foot of the bed, stared in awe at Camilla's ass, and fingered her clitoris.

In Camilla's dream, she came a literal deluge of come, which kept pouring out of her pussy and on the grass, and rose around her like water filling a bathtub. The sons of God were nowhere to be seen, though their laughing could still be heard. After the come had risen up to Camilla's neck, she, squatting, started to urinate. Now the mixture of urine and come rose up, and she was submerged in it. She could see drowned Candice floating in it, and a huge ark was floating on the surface, with Agape, Dr. Singh, and Father Josiah all in it with all the pairs of animals.

Looking up at the sky, the three men saw the sons of God as flying giants pissing a deluge all over the earth, laughing and shouting, 'Man will die in the filth we leave him in!"

"I've heard of it 'pissing down rain', but this is ridiculous," Singh said.

"We will spray piss all over mankind: Hail, Satan!" the sons of God shouted, still laughing.

Candice had her mouth opened millimetres in front of Camilla's vagina. Soon after, Camilla's come shot into Candice's mouth and up her nostrils. Sneezing out come and swallowing the rest, Candice for a time couldn't breathe. She coughed a while after swallowing; she remained just an inch or two from Camilla's cunt, hoping for more ejaculations.

She got an ejaculation of sorts, but not what she was expecting; for Camilla, still dreaming, sprayed piss all over Candice's face and on the bed.

Jumping away, Candice said, "Oh, damn, girl." She shoved Camilla gently, trying to wake her up.

Camilla suddenly woke up with a start and a scream of genuine terror. "Oh, shit," she said as soon as she realized what her urethra had been doing. "Sorry about the mess; this is the first time in my whole life that I ever wet the bed."

She helped Candice clean up the mess and replace the bedsheets. "You were having some dream there, girl" Candice said. "That was a hot one."

"I wouldn't say 'hot', exactly," Camilla said. "It was kinda scary, actually. If dreams are all wish-fulfillments, that was no dream. Why would I ever want to dream about fucking those awful masked men?"

"You dreamed about them?"

"Yeah. They may have gotten me excited and made me come, but I've never felt so out of control in my life; even for a dream."

If you didn't want that sex, Candice thought, then why were your holes stretched open?



Camilla Ch. 055



"So you still don't think that was some kind of spirit fucking you in your sleep?" Candice asked Camilla the next morning as they got dressed.

"Maybe there's something self-destructive in my sub-conscious," Camilla said. She put on a white dress shirt and a black skirt. "Or maybe if I just got laid--by men, in the flesh--more often, I wouldn't do that to myself."

"Maybe Nigrovum's making us crazy, what with you and that priest."

"I'll be good." Camilla did her hair up in a bun, then asked, "So, you're off to find an apartment today?"

"Yep," Candice said. "I'll bet Nigrovum can help me find one fast, and, I hope, close to here."

"Concentrate hard," Camilla said. "I think that's how it works. Have you noticed it's like having actual living beings inside your blood, helping you realize what you're wishing?"

"Yeah, it's weird. Microscopic aliens or something."

"With some kind of advanced technology." Camilla put on a pair of black high heels. "That's what Ravinder thinks Nigrovum is, anyway. It's like if you think hard enough, and imagine what you want vividly enough, visualizing every detail, those tiny black eggs--or whatever they are--are sending out energy everywhere, connecting your mind to the person you want to control, or finding exactly what you want to find, often within very short periods of time. I hope we don't get overcome with power."

"That's what we need to be careful about," Candice said. "That might be what eventually drives us crazy. Didn't you say that's what Dr. Singh warned us about? Tampering with the spirit world?"

"Yeah, but I'll be careful. I'll use it only for good, for making people feel good. I'll be using Nigrovum to find a job today, too."

"Do you wanna find a stripping job, Camil? Then you can tell me about it."

"I'm not gonna get back into stripping quite yet, but I will soon enough." Camilla started putting on makeup while saying, "Bob e-mailed me and said he's gonna be in Toronto by the end of next week. He thinks he and I can do a POV porn video with a secretary fantasy; so I, as an actress, have to do my research. So I'm getting a secretary job."

"But Camil, you've never done that kind of work before. Who'll hire you?"

"A handsome, well-endowed, highly-sexed, forty-something man, that's who," Camilla answered while putting on dark red lipstick. "Nigrovum will help me locate the right office, then I'll do my cat moves on the guy."

When the girls finished tarting themselves up, they sat on the bed and meditated, knowing the Nigrovum would pull them to the right places like magnets.

Candice visualized an apartment just blocks away from Agape's home, one with a reasonable monthly rent and agreeable, non-meddling neighbours. She could feel her body gently vibrating as the Nigrovum emitted energy out from her in a growing circle. It was like millions of tiny eyes were looking all around the area for a suitable room for rent. After a few minutes of intense focusing, she felt a psychic tug and went out the door to find the place, not wanting to break Camilla's concentration by saying goodbye.

Camilla visualized a downtown office in a big building where a major corporation was headquartered. She also imagined a handsome, forty-something man for a boss, one who, mesmerized by her charms, would be willing to hire her despite her lack of experience or knowledge of secretarial work. As with Candice, Camilla could feel her body buzzing with a strange kind of electricity radiating outward, traveling through the monad that unites everything (to use the language Ravinder used in his e-mails when explaining his thoughts on Nigrovum to Camilla); she was convinced this energy would find just the kind of place she wanted to work in. After ten minutes of deep concentration, she too felt a psychic pull, and followed her instincts out the bedroom door.

"Using Nigrovum sure beats looking through the classifieds," she said as she went out of the house.

******************

Camilla found herself in the waiting room of an electronics company, where she and a few other women were waiting to be interviewed for a secretary job. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, she was told to go into the boss's office for her interview. As she approached the door, she undid the top three buttons of her shirt to show off an ample amount of her bra-less cleavage.

She walked into the office and saw a good-looking man in his mid-forties, with brown hair streaked with grey, and brown eyes. He got up from his seat and eagerly shook the hand of this lovely young girl.

"How are you?" he said with a grin. "My name is Miles Holland; have a seat." She sat at a chair on the other side of his desk.

"I'm Camilla Mennon," she said while looking deeply into his eyes. She visualized his penis getting erect, which it immediately began to do.

"Uh, OK," he stammered. "Let's, uh, begin then."

"What do you want to know about me?" she asked with a suggestively girly grin and shrugged shoulders.

"Y-you s-seem rather young to be l-looking for a j-job as a secretary." She used Nigrovum to make him say, "How old are you, sweetie?" He couldn't believe he'd called her that.

"18," she said with feigned shyness.

"My goodness," he said; then she made him say, "You're just a little baby, aren't you, sweetheart?" Again, he surprised himself.

"Yeah," she said with a giggle and a 'shy' turning away of her head. He was amazed that his sexist remarks, however involuntary they were, didn't offend her. "I'm just a little girl." She giggled again.

"Can you type?" he asked, squirming in his chair from his growing erection.

"Um...not very fast," she said with another giggle and pretended blushing.

"Well, with practice, you'll get faster," he panted. His erection was getting sore from poking through his underwear. "Do you know shorthand?"

"Um...no," she said with a timid shake of her head and an 'embarrassed' giggle.

"That's OK," he said. "It isn't an essential part of being a secretary anymore. D-do you have a-any secretarial experience? Any r-references?"

"No," she said, giggling even louder this time. Hire me anyway, she thought, psychically sending him the message.

"W-when can you start?"

"As soon as you want me to," she said with a sexy grin.

"How about t-tomorrow morning? N-normally I d-don't come into the office until about 11 AM, but if you get here at about 8:30, I can sh-show you the ropes."

"You mean, you'll train me yourself, sir?" she asked with wide-open eyes and her mouth agape. She stood up and leaned forward so he could see more cleavage; a bit of areola was showing.

"Y-yes, of course, honey," he said again, surprised by his words and her unruffled reaction to them.

"Thank you, sir; you're so sweet!" she said with more grinning and giggling. They shook hands. She walked over to the door with a swaying of her hips; after opening the door, she looked back at him, and with a doe-eyed expression said, "I'll be here at 8:30 sharp tomorrow morning, waiting for you to teach me my new job." Giggling again, she breathily said, "Goodbye, Mr. Holland." She left.

He just sat at his desk for several minutes, stunned. The best of blow jobs never got my dick that hard, he thought. "How the hell am I gonna 'train' her?" he whispered. "How am I gonna keep from cheating on my wife?"

As Camilla walked out of the building and along Bay Street, she said to herself, "Let's face it: I'm a goddess, thanks to Nigrovum. My power is growing..."

******************

That night, back at home, Camilla changed out of her secretary outfit and into even more alluring apparel: a tight, sleeveless, and belly-less white top that her nipples seemed to be trying to rip their escape through; and those same skimpy low-rise Daisy Duke denim shorts she'd worn to Mr. Leroy's oral test--the ones with the triangle cut where her buttock cleavage, sans panties, began to show. Still with her bright harlot makeup on, she went downstairs with her purse and joined Agape in the living room.

He was sitting on a big chair listening to music and drinking from his third glass of bourbon. When she entered the room in her risque attire, she turned around slowly to give him a full display. Grinning, she asked, "How do I look?"

Shocked at how she looked, he stammered out, "V-very lovely." What do you want me to say, girl? he thought; T-minus nine? I'm your father.

"A little too scantily-clad, Daddy?"

"A little too sky-clad," he said in slurs. He got up and, always the protective father, closed the living room curtains so no lecherous passers-by would see how provocatively his daughter was dressed. "Did you get a job?"

"Yep," she said. "I'm gonna be a secretary."

"A secretary?" he asked as he sat back down. "You don't know how to do that. You need to be taught that first."

"Well, it's either that or I become a stripper with Candi--"

"A secretary job is fine with me," he said. "But don't dress like that, OK?"

"Of course I won't dress like this, Dad. I have appropriate outfits for my new job." And sexy ones, she thought. She then opened her purse and pulled out a bag of cannabis she'd got from Candice late that afternoon. Seeing how obviously tipsy her father was, she suspected he wouldn't mind.

"What's that?" he asked. "Marijuana?"

"Yeah, Daddy," she said. "D'you wanna party with me?"

"Well, sure. I haven't smoked pot since my undergraduate years, but what the hell. Where'd you get it?"

"From Candice," Camilla said while sprinkling the cannabis on a paper.

Why am I not surprised? he thought.

"She got both a stripping job and an apartment today. Amazing, eh?"

"Yeah," he said after taking another sip from his glass. "How'd she do all that so quickly?"

"Let's just say we have friends in high places. She's stripping at a place called Club Ritz downtown. I met her there after she called me and told me she got the job. She's working there right now. She got the pot from a customer. She'll be home later tonight, and she'll move out tomorrow." Camilla rolled the joint, sealed it by sucking on it sensuously while looking her father in the eyes, and then gave it to him. "Wanna start 'er off?" She gave him her lighter.

"OK," he said, and lit the cigarette. As he inhaled, she got a beer out of the fridge and returned for a few puffs. Then she gave him the joint, sipped her beer, and got down on all fours to look through his CD collection, which was on the floor under the CD player. As she flipped through his CDs, she spread her legs wide open and pushed her behind out: with the triangle cut in the back centre of her low-rise shorts, she (unconsciously?) exposed her anus, which pointed out straight at him. He immediately turned his head away, coughing more from what he saw than from his last inhalation of pot. She found The Best of The Doors, and put it on, fast-forwarding to the song 'We Could Be So Good Together."

Relieved to see her turn around and sit on the floor, he reached over to give her the marijuana cigarette. She took it, inhaled, and got up. She walked over to him on his chair and gave him the joint. As he took it from her, she suddenly sat on his lap. "Oh, this is great: partying and spending time with my daddy." She kissed him on the cheek and grinned while looking gleefully in his eyes.

"Aren't you a little old to be sitting on my lap, sweetie?" he asked.

Hugging him, she said, "Oh, come on, Dad, it's been so long since I had a chance to cuddle with you. Please let me."

She decided to do an experiment--psychically giving him another erection. In his stoned, drunk state, would he resist her psychic influence? If he didn't, pot and drink would be enough to weaken his will so Candice could seduce him later; no stronger, and therefore more dangerous, drugs would be necessary. On the other hand, if he resisted the temptation to commit incest with Camilla, that would all the more prove how slanderously her mom had spoken of him when she'd got custody of Camilla after the divorce. It would also show how sweet, kind, and perfect a father she had. She closed her eyes, focused, and caused his penis to grow slowly, gradually, and almost imperceptibly erect.

After a while, he started squirming uncomfortably in his chair, not at all understanding why he was getting excited. The very notion of having sexual feelings for his daughter was alien and unthinkable to him, and he shook with agitation and fear. "What the hell?" he said, trying to make her get up so he could.

Not letting him, and pretending not to know what was happening, she said, "Relax, Daddy. Is the pot making you paranoid?"

"No," he said. "My body is. Why am I...?"

You sweet man, she thought; you'd never use me sexually, I always knew that.

And yet, part of her was disappointed; this feeling frightened her, for his thick erection, almost seven inches, was starting to turn her on! She suddenly got up, shaking as much as he was.

"I've got to use the washroom," he said, quickly walking over there in embarrassment.

"OK, Daddy," she said with an equally red face. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk." Taking the joint and her purse, she went outside.

She walked through the neighbourhood smoking the rest of the joint. My God, she thought, I've got some bad ideas swimming around in my head!

She decided she needed to get laid, by a man this time, rather than just Candice; for she hadn't been with a man since those few POV videos she'd made with Bob, and after getting fired from Luvlee's and the trauma of that party in the mansion, she'd been made relatively chaste. She assumed the lack of cock was what was driving her crazy: her intense dreams, her tempting of Father Josiah, and her excessive affection for her dad. That Nigrovum could have had anything to do with it was something she didn't want to think about.

She walked out of the neighbourhood and found a major road; an empty cab was driving by, and she hailed it.

Getting in the back seat, she said, "Take me downtown, please."

"Where specifically?" the cab driver asked.

"I'll tell you later; just take me downtown for now." He started driving.

Meditating for several minutes, she visualized a cafe frequented by York University professors. Fighting off the effects of the marijuana so she could concentrate better, she vividly imagined a man with the good looks of Liam Neeson in the movie Chloe. Five more minutes of concentrating went by, and she could feel the psychic energy emanating out of her in rapidly growing circles; she soon felt that psychic tug that told her, like a compass, where to go.

"So, where are we going?" the cabbie said. "We're downtown, on Yonge Street."

Though she didn't yet know Yonge Street from Finch or Bay, she instinctively knew which direction to go in, so she just kept saying, "Turn left", "Turn right", and "Go straight" until she found the cafe the Nigrovum was leading her to. The cab driver parked in front of the cafe; she paid him and got out of the cab. Standing before the door to the cafe, she took a deep breath and went in.

She saw a man sitting alone, drinking a cappuccino and reading a newspaper. In fact, he even looked rather like Liam Neeson. "I love you, Nigrovum," she said. She bought a coffee and went up to his table.

"Excuse me," she asked with a smile. "Can I borrow your sugar? There's none at my table."

"Sure," he said, handing his sugar container to her.

Taking it, and working the Nigrovum on him, she said, "Sorry. Can I join you? I'm new in Toronto, and all alone." She pouted pitifully.

"Sure," he said with a smile, suddenly finding this pretty young girl inexplicably charming. "I don't normally chat with strangers, but you look...intriguing."

"Must be what I'm wearing, which isn't much." She giggled.

"Oh, I don't mean your clothes--well, not only them," he said with a chuckle. "It's something about you, in your eyes. What's your name?"

"Camilla."

"That's a pretty name." Her eyes were drawing him in.

"Thanks. What's your name?"

"Alex. Are you a student?"

"Yeah, I'm starting my first year in York next month. I can't wait." Her eyes seemed to sending laser beams into his pupils.

"What are you studying there?" Alex asked.

"English and French lit."

"Really? I'm a prof there. I teach courses in mythology and religious studies."

"Wow!" she said, already turned on. "That's fascinating. I'd love to study that."

He leaned forward, saying, "You know what myths I find the most intriguing? Those of Zeus's affairs with mortal women." His body was vibrating from her eyes' lock on his.

"Tell me more: I think Zeus is hot. There's a great painting of him by Ingres," she said in a breathy voice.

"You must mean Jupiter and Thetis. Her fingers tickle his chin, to tempt him."

"Yeah, that's the one. I think it's sexy. Tell me about his affairs."

"Well, he appeared before Leda as a swan, and he ravished her. Eggs were hatched, giving birth to, among others, lovely Helen of Troy." Though she wasn't using Nigrovum on his penis, she was giving him an erection.

"Were the eggs little black ones?" she asked.

"What?" he asked with a sneer.

"Never mind. Let's go outside, to the park nearby." She quickly gulped up the last of her coffee, which had helped her sober up.

"Well, alright. My wife will be expecting me home in a half hour or so, but what the hell." They left the cafe, and went into the park.

"Who else did Zeus rape?" she asked, walking arm-in-arm with Alex.

"Well, there was Io, Alcmene, and Nemesis, which was a variation on the Leda story. There were many others, and many other gods who chased after mortal women, or after nymphs."

"Isn't that like the 'sons of God' and the 'daughters of men'?"

"You mean Genesis chapter six, the beginning of the story of the Great Flood?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," she said. "They sound similar, as if the Bible just stole the story from the pagans."

"That's a very acute observation, coming from a cute observer."

Giggling, she said, "Thank you. Zeus is the sexiest of all the gods."

"He was always my favourite: so powerful, and such a womanizer."

"You're kind of like him, I think."

Knowing what she was implying, and very tempted to enjoy her even without the influence of Nigrovum, he nevertheless said, "Well, that's very flattering, but I really have to be going. My wife--"

"And I'm kind of like Nemesis, don't you think?" Now she started to use Nigrovum on him, and his partial erection was growing. "Your nemesis."

"Oh, wait, sweetie," he said, feeling himself slowly losing control of his body, and wondering if she was somehow causing that loss of control. "You're very lovely, but I'm a happily married m--"

"You're Zeus, and I'm Nemesis," she said, looking intensely in his eyes. "Rape me." Her blue eyes had temporarily turned black.

His lust was growing into a fire that shot all through his body; he couldn't understand why he couldn't control it. "What are you, some kind of modern day witch?" His erection was poking a bulge in his pants; in too much pain to leave his cock inside, he unzipped his pants and pulled it out.

"Ravish me, Zeus. Have your way with me." So I can have my way with you, she thought.

He felt his hands pulling forward to grab her; horrified, he resisted as best he could, and looked around to see if anyone else was in the park. No one was there but this 'rapist' and his 'victim'.

Wanting to be punished for thinking unnatural thoughts about her father, Camilla continued conjuring Alex: rape me, Zeus!

Finally, his hands were pulled to her, tearing her shirt off and causing her large breasts to wiggle when exposed to his hungry eyes. She pretended to resist him to make her rape fantasy more real. Controlling his mind, she made him punch her hard in the mouth. She fell to the ground, her lip bleeding and swollen; she made him get on top of her and pull her jean shorts off. She kicked at him, pretending she didn't want sex; but he was the one who didn't! What if police had come, and seen him with her? What devil was possessing him to do this? What if his beautiful wife, whom he dearly loved, were to find out about this?




Camilla Ch. 055



She psychically made him shove his cock in her pussy, which, surprising to him, was dripping wet. He, up till that time, had thought some kind of devil was making him rape a non-consenting girl; but she was loving the sex! This was obviously all her doing, not some invisible force.

In complete control of his body now, she made him thrust violently inside her; she screamed and flooded the grassy area with her come. She made his hands grab her tits and squeeze them aggressively; up till this time, he'd always been a gentle lover, but she was making him into a wild satyr, and it frightened him.

She released him temporarily, letting him pull his cock out of her overflowing pussy. She got on all fours, with her legs spread out wide and her ass pointed out so her anus was visible. Just when he was about to put his now not-so-erect penis back in his pants, she made it quickly get hard again, and she made him get behind her. Having wiped her come in and around her anus, she made him shove his cock inside.

"No! Please!" he moaned as she made him fuck her asshole, thrusting as aggressively as he had been made to do in her cunt. She wasn't properly lubricated as she had been before, so his large cock ripped some of the tissue of her anal walls. She wasn't worried, since she knew she could heal soon. The pain was as thrilling to her as the pleasure was. After she'd had enough ass-fucking, she released him again. He pulled out, and lay on the grass trying to catch his breath. But just as he was about to do up his pants, again she regained control of his cock, hardening it.

Now she was kneeling before him, and she made him put his cock in her mouth. She kept him relatively immobilized, for now she was the one to do most of the work. He tried to pull away, but couldn't. Looking up in his eyes, she was troubled to see him not enjoying her cocksucking; so to weaken his resistance, she caused a release of dopamine in his brain to make him enjoy the blow job she was giving him. Now the look in his eyes was a conflicted one of pleasure and fear; this still annoyed her, so she decided to finish him off quickly. She accelerated his arousal as she had done before with other lovers, when she'd wanted to finish giving them head quickly. He came in her mouth, and she swallowed it all. Finally, she released him for good; he quickly put his spent penis in his pants, and he ran away in terror.

She put her shorts back on and wrapped her torn shirt around her chest; then she phoned Candice. "Hi, it's me, Camilla. When do you finish work?"

"Soon," Candice said. "There's practically nobody here, since it's only Monday night. So they say I can go home soon. Why do you ask?"

"Can you get a cab and find me at...Queen's Park? We can split the fare when we get home."

"OK," Candice said. "Am I fucking your dad tonight?"

"No," Camilla said, licking the blood off her lip. "He's not ready for that yet. Just be here as soon as you can. Bye." They hung up.

As Camilla waited for the cab, she could feel her lip healing; and the soreness on her breasts, in her vagina and in her rectum was also going away fast. By the time the cab arrived, Camilla had completely healed.

She approached the cab with the wild look of a madwoman in her eyes; it frightened Candice to see Camilla look that way, especially with her shirt torn off. Camilla got in the cab, and they drove off.

"Camilla!" Candice asked. "What happened to you? You didn't get raped, did you?"

"No," Camilla said, staring straight ahead of her, still with that wild-eyed look. "I'm too powerful to be really raped. Let's face it: I am a goddess."



Camilla Ch. 056



On Tuesday morning at 8:20, Camilla was in the washroom of the office where she'd soon begin her first day as Mr. Miles Holland's personal secretary. In a tight-fitting brown wool-knit dress with the front zipper down to show off her bra-less cleavage, she was looking at herself in the mirror, carefully assessing her sexiness. In her usual whore-bright makeup with dark red lipstick, she repeatedly bent down and a bit to the side, to see how much tit was showing. She wanted to make sure her new boss would see as much breast as possible while--always the tease--not showing nipple; if a bit of areola was showing, that would be fine.

As she looked herself over, she thought about the night before, and what Candice had told her about her recent excesses. Camilla agreed that her behaviour was becoming a problem: she was using too much Nigrovum for her own good, and it was affecting her mental health. Though Candice that night had been high on heroin (all alert in the cab, but too drowsy in their bedroom to make love), Camilla had been high on Nigrovum-induced megalomania; in her alert moment in the cab, Candice had begged Camilla to stop using psychic mind control--at least for a while. Camilla promised to stop; she figured she wouldn't need it on Mr. Holland anymore anyway, since her body would be enough to make him want her.

On the other hand, perhaps to use or not to use Nigrovum would make little difference; since her dreams were Nigrovum-influenced (as were those of Candice, who'd had a vivid wet dream that night about Jasmine licking her pussy, a dream that even her heroin high hadn't stopped), it was apparent to both girls that even when they weren't using their psychic power consciously, they were often using it unconsciously. Camilla reasoned that she must have unconsciously used it on all those teachers, who surely would have been sensible enough to resist her charms without Nigrovum's aid: how else could she have got five well-respected high school teachers to gang-bang her in an old abandoned building?

She checked her watch: it was 8:31, and her boss presumably had arrived, or would arrive any second. Satisfied with how she looked, she whispered 'corporate whore' to herself and left the washroom.

When she went into Mr. Holland's office, he was sitting at his desk. Looking up and seeing how her sexy dress showed off her curves and cleavage, he was already getting a hard-on...with no need for Nigrovum. "Oh, good morning, Camilla," he said with a smile. "Are you ready to start?"

"Yep," she said with a grin. "Where's my desk?"

"Right over tree, in that corner," he said, pointing to it, to her left as she'd come into the office. "I had it moved in here so we could be closer together as we work, so I can teach you your job better."

"Good idea," she said, knowing his real reason for having them work together in private. "Shall I get you a cup of coffee, sir?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that. It's not your job, sweetie."

"I don't mind. How do you take it?"

"Uh, double-double. The coffee-maker's just outside my office, to the right."

"OK," she said. "Be right back." She went out.

"Damn, girl," he said to himself. "You're driving me wild. If my wife finds out about you, I'm sure to get pounded on the head with pots and pans."

As she made his coffee, she tried to ignore the looks she was getting from her gossipy colleagues.

"Mrs. Holland comes here every day around lunchtime," a frowning woman standing nearby whispered to Camilla. "Watch yourself around 12:30; she has a nasty temper."

Camilla now frowned at those words, making the coffee as quickly as she could to get away from the judgemental stares she was getting. No sooner, however, did she open her boss's office door and walk in had that frown turned into a smile. She closed the door and locked it.

"Here you are, sir," she said with a grin as she put the mug on his desk.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said, comfortable knowing she didn't mind him calling her names like that. Getting bolder, he looked her up and down and said, "That's a very nice dress you're wearing."

"Why, thank you, sir," she said with an ear-to-ear grin and a giggle, turning around slowly so he could see all of her. "I bought it yesterday, looking for things to wear for you in the office."

"Good girl," he said, still ogling her. "You keep buying clothes like that; I like 'em. They look good on you."

"That's very sweet of you to say. You're my boss, so I must make sure I please you. Speaking of pleasing you, what do you want me to do now?"

"Well, I want to show you an e-mail I just received: if you type a reply for me, I can see how well you can use a keyboard, and I'll be free to do other things when I know you can do this stuff automatically. Grab a chair and sit next to me."

"Why don't I just sit here, sir?" she asked, gliding her stuck-out ass down onto his pointy lap and sliding her buttocks on it briefly to get...comfortable.

"Uh, baby, what if someone walks in?" he asked.

"Don't worry, Mr. Holland; I locked the door when I came in with your coffee," she said, grinding some more on his cock.

"Oh, good," he grunted. "Anyway...uh, read the e-mail."

"OK," she said matter-of-factly, as though she had no idea she was turning him on. After a half-minute of reading the three long paragraphs of the e-mail and bouncing slightly on his erection, she then leaned back and rested her back against his chest, looking doe-eyed back at him. Letting him enjoy breathing in her aphrodisiac perfume, she said, "OK, I've read it; what d'you want me to say in your answer?"

"Oh, uh...tell Mr. Murdoch...we're sorry about...the malfunction...we'll do an...analysis of what...went wrong, and ensure...it doesn't happen again." The tip of his cock was poking through his pants and against her moist vulva.

Someone knocked on the door. "Miles?" the knocker said.

"Sue? Just a minute," he said. Then to Camilla he whispered, "I'll print out the e-mail; you type the reply at your computer. Hurry, get to your desk."

"Yes, sir," she said, then got up, pushing and rubbing her buttocks up against his belly and chest. She swayed her ass as she walked to her desk.

Trying to open the door, Sue said, "Miles, why is the door locked?" (She knew why: she was the gossip who warned Camilla about Mrs. Holland.)

"It's locked?" he said, getting up after clicking print on his computer. "I don't know why it is. Is your report ready?" It was...hard...for him to walk to the door, of course.

"Yeah," Sue said. Mr. Holland opened the door, took the report, and closed and locked the door again. "He locked the door again," she whispered as she walked away. "I knew it; he and that slut must be having fun in there. He'd better hope the Mrs. doesn't find out; if she does, we may see black and blue on his face this time."

He gave Camilla a print-out of the e-mail, then returned to his desk to answer a call on the phone. By the time he'd finished on the phone, she'd typed up the reply on her computer. "I've finished typing what you wanna say, sir," she said. "Wanna see?"

He got up and went over to look on her monitor; but he found it difficult taking his eyes off her cleavage, a perfect image for a down-blouse photo. She looked up at him as though she didn't even know he was staring at her tits.

"How does this look, sir?" she asked with 'innocent' wide-open eyes.

"Sensational," he grunted, not at all looking at what she'd typed.

"Sir," she whined in a playfully admonishing tone. "I meant my e-mail."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Camilla." He quickly glanced at it, then looked back at her. "It's fine. Send it."

"OK," she said in a sing song voice, then sent the e-mail.

"I promise to behave myself," he said in embarrassment at having been caught leering. "I gotta remember my wife. Sorry."

"That's OK, sir." She got up and looked up into his eyes with a suggestive grin. "I'm very flattered that you like my tits."

"Uh,..." he said, then chuckled in embarrassment. "I guess I should show you what else you need to do."

"OK," she said, following him back to his desk. He sat down, and she put her knee on his chair, between his legs, and gently pressed her knee against his erection. She brought her breasts up close to his face. "What's next?"

"Well, uh,..." he stammered, counting the goose-bumps on her cleavage, which was millimetres away from his face. "We keep all...the reports...like the one Sue...just gave me...in the filing cabinet...over there." He pointed to his right, where it was against the wall near her desk.

She turned to look to her left to see the filing cabinet, brushing her right breast against his face. His mouth and nose were now in contact with her skin, the bared portion of her breast. His face pushed in against her tit's softness. "OK," she said, still pretending nothing sexual was happening. "In which drawer do you want me to put this report?"

"Uh, in a minute, honey," he moaned. "I need...to show you...some other stuff." She straightened up and looked down at him. "Other important...documents are put...in the filing cabinet...over there." He pointed to his left.

She turned to look that way as she had before; now her left breast pushed against his face. He fought the temptation to kiss that goose-bumped skin he felt pushing against his lips and nose. He thought, is this girl just a slut, or is she some kind of feminist mole, tempting me to hit on her so she can hit me with an accusation of sexual harassment?

"Now," he panted, breathing against her tit. "You put...that report in...the top left drawer...under 'technical issues'...at the front...where the most recent reports...are filed. Put it away now."

"Yes, sir," she said with gleeful obedience, straightening up and slapping her wiggling breasts against his cheeks as she got up from kneeling on his chair. She took Sue's report, which was several unstapled papers in a folder, and turned around to walk over to the filing cabinet; but she deliberately let the papers fall out of the folder and onto the floor. "Oops, silly me." She bent over to pick them up.

Her ass was now in his face; he felt the soft wool-knit texture of her tight dress rubbing against his nose and mouth. He was tempted to nibble on the material. Only that thin wool and her panties separated his nose and mouth from her anal cleft, which shifted slightly from left to right as she swayed her ass. He breathed in heavily, smelling a slight faecal odour that he fetished when it came from callipygian beauties like Camilla.

He reached down to help her pick up the papers, pushing his face into her butt-crack. "Oh, that's OK, sir," she said as she, grinning and looking back at him, took her time picking up the papers. "You shouldn't help me; it's my job. But thanks, anyway." When she had all the papers back in the folder, she straightened up, swaying her ass left and right so he could feel both of her buttocks rub against his face. She put the folder in the filing cabinet and returned to him, always swaying her ass as she walked there and back. "What shall I do for you now, sir?"

"Please, sweetie, call me Miles," he insisted.

"Oh, Mr. Holland, that isn't right. You're my boss. I shouldn't speak to you as an equal."

"Whatever you say, cupcake," he said. Then, remembering his worries about sexual harassment litigation, he asked, "You don't mind my calling you affectionate names like that, do you?"

"It's OK," she said with a sexy grin. "As long as I'm a cherry cupcake." She then lewdly giggled.

"You sure are. Get a chair, baby, and a pen and a notepad from your desk. I need you to jot some things down."

"Yes, sir," she said, and after getting those things, she put her chair beside his, facing him. As she jotted down the things he haltingly told her, she raised her right leg and put the heel of her shoe against the foot rest of her chair; doing this, with her legs open several centimetres wide, she'd pushed up her dress to give him an up-skirt view of her white panties.

The whole time he slowly listed off all the things he wanted her to write down, he never took his eyes away from her exposed panties. Fully aware he was looking, she kept her smiling to a minimum and quietly jotted down everything he said, all the time allowing him to look, and even widening her legs a bit to increase his viewing pleasure. He knew she knew he was looking, and he could only appreciate her indulgence.

The rest of the working day was pretty much more of the same, to his astonishment and delight. Fearing his wife, though, he didn't dare press his luck.

******************

In bed at her new apartment that night, Candice was high on heroin again, her only way to combat her loneliness from missing Camilla.

After work, Camilla had gone over to Club Ritz to see Candice, who was about to start work. Candice gave Camilla some ecstasy pills she'd got from her new dope connection, and she asked Camilla if she could come over to Agape's home that night. Camilla said no, because she needed to test her father's reaction to the ecstasy: would it make him sick? Only when she was sure that the--she hoped--careful, moderate use of these harder drugs wouldn't have too harmful an effect on him, and if they sufficiently weakened his resistance to Candice's use of Nigrovum, could Candice then come over and seduce Camilla's dad.

Camilla promised Candice she wouldn't have to wait too long; within a week, Candice could come over--maybe even as early as Wednesday or Thursday night.

For Candice, though, the waiting of even just one night felt like eons.

******************

After another night of drinking and smoking grass with Agape (as well as surreptitiously dropping a half pill of ecstasy in one of his glasses of bourbon), Camilla took her dad up to bed, stripped him down to his underwear, and lay him on his bed to sleep. She wanted to lay next to him in bed, but fearing to develop those unnatural feelings for him again, she did something she hadn't done in a long time: she put on a nightgown, and kept her panties on.

He was so wasted then, at 5 AM, that as he slowly went to sleep from coming down from the E, he hardly noticed her wrap her arms around him and psychically give him an erection, to test his reaction and see if he'd resist. Only if he didn't resist could Candice come over and seduce him. Luckily for the girls, he was too wasted and tired to resist Camilla's affections, but he didn't touch her at all in a sexual way. He simply fell asleep in her arms, and dreamt about making love with Carrie, then with black-haired Candice again; the change Camilla had made in his dream wasn't resisted. It seemed OK to have Candice come over, though Camilla wanted to experiment with this a few more times just to make sure.

As she 'innocently' hugged her father, she repeatedly whispered, "I love you, Daddy, you sweet man." Again, she was convinced he'd never lust after her, no matter how tempting a scenario she'd created for him, and no matter how wasted he was, even to the point of not knowing what--or who--he was doing. You are such a good man, she thought. Indeed, his virtue made her love him all the more, yet her feelings for him scared her all the more, too.

******************

Mr. Holland arrived in his office at 11:04 AM the next day, and getting bolder and bolder, he greeted Camilla with a gentle pat on her buttocks. She responded to his touch by pushing out her behind so his hand could feel it all the more, and she said with an ear-to-ear grin, "Oh, good morning, sir! How are you today?"

"I'm doing great," he said as he went over to his desk. "What's up with you, pussycat?"

"Oh, everything's great here, Mr. Holland. I guess your wife will be here soon, eh?"

"Yes, she will; and I'll be waiting for her with the usual sense of exhaustion and dread." Camilla wondered if she would ever hear anything good about his wife.

Mrs. Holland arrived at the office unusually early, and Camilla got a chance to see her for the first time (she'd gone out to a restaurant for lunch with Candice the day before, and missed the wife's visit then). Hoping Mrs. Holland wouldn't suspect anything about her husband with his sexy new secretary, Camilla had buttoned up her sleeveless purple dress just in time before the wife suddenly came barging into his office. Camilla was also lucky to have been sitting at her desk working, instead of at his desk working on him.

Mrs. Holland was a plain-looking and over-weight woman in her early forties; she was also a terrible nag, even rather verbally abusive, in Camilla's opinion. His wife often spoke derisively of him while Camilla was there, insensitive of how her words made him, the boss, lose face in front of his new secretary. In her jealous suspicion of the relationship he had with his pretty new employee, Mrs. Holland felt perfectly justified in making her husband look foolish. It was obvious to Camilla that her boss wasn't in the happiest of marriages.

After Mrs. Holland left, Camilla and her boss talked while eating sandwiches for lunch together.

"You seem unhappy in your marriage, sir, if you don't mind my saying so," she said.

"It's that easy to see, eh?" he asked. "Actually, that what she's like at her nicest. To describe how she is at home, well...that's best left unsaid."

Camilla was troubled to see the rattled expression on his face when he said that. Softening the discussion a bit, she said, "I guess the romance has died out a bit, right? That's normal in a lot of marriages."

"The romance has died out a bit? That's putting it mildly. She used to be thinner; she used to be gentler."

Camilla started feeling genuine compassion for her poor boss, whom she correctly assumed to be a victim in some kind of abusive relationship. She decided to cheer him up by turning him on. She asked, "Boring in bed, I assume? If you don't mind my asking."

"Oh, she's dead in bed. Missionary position's too raunchy for her," he said, holding his head in his hands and shaking it. "Sex is only for her pleasure, if it ever happens."

"Does she ever perform fellatio on you?"

Shocked at the boldness of her question, yet also aroused by it, he said, "Only in my dreams."

"That isn't right," Camilla said. "If I were married, I'd blow my husband at least once a day."

"Really?" he asked, leaning forward. "What else would you do for your man?"

"Oh, lots of things," Camilla said unabashedly. "I'd let him do me anally, again every day at least. I'd let him come on any part of my body he liked, especially my face. I'd let him fuck my tits. I'd let him watch me on the toilet peeing; I'd even give him golden showers, if he was into it. All kinds of stuff; as long as it pleased him."

"I guess you've done all those things before, eh?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "All of 'em, lots of times. You should've seen me two nights ago, in Queen's Park. I let a guy ravish me there. He fucked my pussy, fucked my asshole, and I sucked his cock, letting him blow his load in my mouth. I swallowed all of his come. It was lots of fun."

"I'm sure it was," he moaned, getting a hard-on from all this dirty talk. He still couldn't believe his secretary was so willing, even eager, to speak so pornographically with her boss. "Come sit on my lap, sweetie. Lock the door."

"Yes, sir," she said, getting up and locking the door. When she came to sit on his lap, she lifted up her dress--which went down only half-way between her hips and knees--to reveal the ass of her pink lace panties.

"Those are very pretty panties," he said as he ogled them.

"Really?" she asked, keeping her dress up for his viewing pleasure. "Thank you." Then she turned around slowly with her dress still up so he could see her panties from all angles; she even got up on his desk and spread her legs wide open so he could see her panties between her legs. Again acting as though nothing sexual was going on, she added, "I bought them two days ago in a store in the Eaton's Centre."




Camilla Ch. 056



"I really like them," he said as he stared where her panties covered her pussy, wondering how pink and pretty the pussy underneath looked.

"You're so sweet, sir," she said, as if he were merely complimenting her hairstyle. After letting him stare at her spread for a few more seconds, she got down and sat on his lap, again gliding down so he could fully experience the softness of her buttocks brushing against his hardness. She leaned back and rested her head against his left cheek while looking up at his face. She grinded on his cock. He put his hands on her arms and moved them gently up and down. "Oh, no. I gotta go pee-pee. May I go to the bathroom, please, sir?"

"Oh, you don't have to ask, cupcake," he said. "You go right ahead."

"Thank you, sir."

She got up, brushing her ass against his belly and chest again; he brought his head down, hoping to feel her ass against his face. Looking back down at him, she noticed this, and keeping her dress pulled up so her panties were still on display, she waited for his head to be low enough, and she pushed her buttocks against his face. She rubbed up and down, and left to right a few times before walking to the door.

"Wait," he said. "I need to use the washroom, too. I want to comb my hair." Actually, his hair was perfectly combed.

"OK," she said. "Let's go together."

They went out of the office and over to the washroom, the only one in the whole work area. "OK, sweetie," he said. "Ladies first."

"Oh, no, sir," she said while fidgeting in her desperation to urinate. "I can't let you wait; you're my boss."

"But I don't want to make you wait either, sweetie. You'll go pee-pee in your panties."

"Then how about we go in together, sir?"

"Really?" he asked. After she nodded with a smile, he went in with her, careful not to let any of the gossipy workers see them go in together.

He pulled out his comb and watched her nonchalantly walk over to the toilet, pull down her panties, flip up her dress, and sit on the toilet. Forgetting about a combing he didn't at all need, he walked over to her and watched her begin peeing. She opened her legs so he could see everything. She even allowed him to see her pussy!

He sighed and smiled as he watched the urine pour out of her urethra and down into the toilet water. She looked up at him and giggled 'shyly'. "I'm going pee-pee," she said like a little girl.

"You sure are, baby."

"I'm all stinky now," she said with another giggle.

"That's OK. Your stinky is like perfume."

"You're so sweet to me, sir." She finished her pee and got her perfumed wet napkins out of her purse. She kicked off her high heels and her panties, put her feet on the toilet bowl to spread her legs out more, and wiped her pussy clean, perfectly content to let him see her labia opened wide as she wiped away.

"You are so lovely, Camilla," he said in awe at her exhibitionism.

"Thank you, sir," she said, then got up and put her heels back on. Holding her panties in her hand, she said, "These are for you." She put her panties in his shirt pocket. "Don't let the Mrs. catch you with them."

"Oh, I won't." Looking at her pee in the toilet, he then said, "Look at all that pretty pee-pee."

"But it's so icky, sir," she said.

"It's your pee, sweetie," he corrected. "Your pee, the golden juice of a goddess, can never be icky. I'll bet you even shit chocolate."

"I always say this, because it's always true, sir: you're so sweet." She kissed him on the cheek. "Let's go back to your office." She walked out, and he flushed the toilet before following her.

Back in his office, he told her about his plans to take a business trip to Montreal; she would have to go with him.

"Honey, get a pen and a notepad, and sit by me," he said. "I need to you take down some notes; you have to make hotel reservations for us this weekend."

"Yes, sir," she said, getting what she needed and sitting by him. After waiting for him to sit down, facing her, she again lifted up a leg and rested it against the foot rest of her chair. Her uncrossed legs were somewhat open again, and now that she wasn't wearing panties, he could see her cunt.

"You need to...make reservations at a hotel...in downtown Montreal...as close to...one of our...electronics factories...as possible." Always studying every fold on her pussy, it was hard to concentrate on what he had to tell her. "Rooms for us...next to each other...so we can be close...when we work together."

"What time, sir? What day?"

"We need airplane tickets...early on Saturday morning," he continued. "We need to be...at the first factory...by 2 PM...Can you do all that?"

"Yeah, no problem."

"Any other questions, you just ask."

"OK, I'll get on it right away."

"Camilla."

"Yes, sir?"

"Your pussy's showing."

Feigning embarrassment, she 'timidly' giggled and slowly crossed her legs.

"What are you doing tonight, sweetie?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Wanna go with me to Freddie's? It's a pub just five blocks from here."

"Sure, sir. It's a date. Just make sure the Mrs. doesn't know," she said, winking at him.

******************

That night at Freddie's, Mr. Holland bought himself and Camilla beers, and they drank them while standing by a pool table.

"Thank you for joining me, sweetie," he said, giving her her beer. "I had to get away from my wife, if only for a while."

"Thank you for inviting me, sir," she said. "And thanks for the beer."

"My pleasure. Let's play some pool."

"Well, OK," she said.

"Have you ever played before?" he asked.

"Well, yeah, but I'm not very good." Actually, Camilla was a fairly decent player; but she wanted to boost her boss's male ego by pretending she was bad at the game.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I'll show you what to do."

As they played, he would show her how to hold the cue, of which they only had one decent one--the others were all crooked. He enjoyed getting up close to her and making sure her hands were holding it right. She deliberately played clumsily, giggling in embarrassment each time she made a mistake. "I really suck," she said.

I'll bet you do, he thought to himself. "Here, baby, let me show you again how to hold the cue." He got up close and guided her hands on the cue. His pointy erection brushed against her buns.

Looking back at him lewdly, she said, "We seem to have a second cue after all."

"Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "And this table isn't the only thing that has pockets to sink something into." She giggled and rubbed her behind against his hard-on.

Unbeknownst to them, Sue was also in the bar, and she saw them together. "That little slut," she said, then got out her cell-phone. She called someone and asked if she'd like to join Sue at Freddie's. The woman on the other end agreed, and would be there soon.

Mr. Holland and Camilla continued playing pool, drinking beer, and flirting with each other for the next twenty minutes. Then he saw a familiar face walk into the bar; Sue greeted her.

"Sorry, Camilla," he said, moving away from her. "I just realized something I have to do. I gotta go; sorry."

"Oh, that's too bad, sir," she said. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow morning, OK?"

"OK," he said, walking toward the door. "Goodnight." He scratched his face, hoping he wouldn't be seen by Sue or her friends. He successfully left the bar.

Sue was talking to his neighbours, a woman and her husband who were good friends with his wife. The couple went to the bar and ordered some drinks.

"Tough luck, Mr. Holland," Sue whispered to herself. "Better luck next time."

"Oh, well," Camilla said to herself. "There's still our business trip together this Saturday."



Camilla Ch. 057



On Thursday morning at 8:50, Camilla got out of Agape's car on Bay Street with her umbrella opened immediately after, for it was pouring rain. She thanked him for the ride to work and hurried into the building where the office was. As she went towards the elevator, she thought about her 'experimenting' on her dad. The marijuana and ecstasy definitely made him less resistant to erotic psychic influence, and she used Nigrovum on him to mitigate his agonizing discomfort from the after-effects of the ecstasy. He seemed ready for Candice to distract him sexually from Carrie, whom Camilla would have the displeasure of meeting on Sunday evening, after her return from her business trip to Montreal with Mr. Holland. She was looking forward to that, of course. 

Her upcoming sexual adventures with her boss, as well as the one she'd had with Alex in Queen's Park, seemed to be satisfying her urges for phallic fulfillment. She hadn't had any of those 'intense wet dreams' since Sunday night, so she assumed the regular enjoyment of male lovers--as she'd had in Vancouver while stripping at Luvlee's--would keep the erotic chaos out of her subconscious. 

Though she'd given Agape another psychic erection on Wednesday night, with a sexy dream of black-haired Candice, she didn't dare sleep beside him as she had done on Tuesday night; she knew he would never do anything sexual with her, but she was afraid she would with him, so difficult had it been for her--uninhibitedly high on ecstasy--to resist the temptation on Tuesday night. Agape, apparently influenced by the Nigrovum, seemed more open to the idea of having sex with Candice when Camilla talked with him at breakfast on Thursday morning; for he said his dreams had been pleasant, and he even asked her, "So, how's everything going with your pretty black-haired--uh, red-haired friend, Candice? I haven't seen her in a while."

Though that would have been a perfect opportunity to suggest that Candice come over to the house for a sex, drugs, and Nigrovum party, Camilla was worried that Candice was doing too much of the drugs to be able to concentrate on either the sex or the Nigrovum. Camilla would have to insist that Candice leave the dope alone for a while--not an easy thing to get Candice to agree to do--before coming over to Agape's. 

As Camilla walked into the office, she saw Sue, who'd obviously been gossiping with two male co-workers about what must have been going on in Mr. Holland's locked office. As Camilla passed by Sue, she heard the gossip say, "Tramps like her are why women still don't have as much power as men."

As pouting Camilla went into her boss's office, she thought, Candice and I are two women who have more power than you--or any man--will ever fucking know. At her desk the whole time between then and Mr. Holland's arrival, she just did the work he'd told her to do--arranging the business trip, among other things. She never left the office, being too afraid to face her hateful co-workers, and too afraid they'd provoke her to use Nigrovum to harm them. 

Mr. Holland arrived around 10:30, so eager was he to get away from his domineering wife. Camilla saw a scar on his left wrist, inadequately covered by his watch; she psychically sensed other injuries on his body, on his shoulders, back, and legs. She also correctly guessed how he got the injuries...and from whom. 

"Good morning, sir," she said as he walked painfully to his desk. "Sir, you're hurt."

"Oh, you must have seen the mark on my wrist," he said. 

"I think you have more injuries than that, by the way you were limping to your desk."

"I, uh, rode my bicycle this morning and, uh, fell off."

"Really?" she asked. "How many times?"

"I'd rather not talk about it, sweetie, if you don't mind."

"OK, sir." She was growing from just lusting after him to feeling genuine compassion for him. Obviously, his wife was not only verbally attacking him, but physically, too. The mark on his wrist looked like it was made by the edge of a frying pan, which Mrs. Holland probably had also used to hit him all over with.

Camilla had heard his wife belittle him in the office on Wednesday, and she wanted to compensate for his feelings of humiliation by making him feel manly in front of her. So Camilla was happy to play the role of submissive secretary, eagerly obedient, to make him feel better. 

She'd decided to dress more modestly today--in the same outfit, beige dress pants and flowery-patterned brown dress shirt, as she'd worn when she met Bob's brother Leo (albeit now with a purple bra and panties)--in order to provoke less gossip among Sue and the others in the office, and to keep his jealous wife at bay; but she was now regretting the decision. To cheer him up, she wanted to look sexy again.

"Shall I make you some coffee, sir?" she asked.

"That's very sweet of you, Camilla, but it's not your job," he said. "You aren't my errand girl."

"Oh, I don't mind. I like pleasing you." She started undoing the buttons on her shirt so he could see her bra. 

Smirking lewdly at her cue, he then said, "Speaking of pleasing me, and while you're unbuttoning your shirt, there is one thing you can do for me."

"Oh?" she asked, eager to please. "What's that?"

"Don't ever wear that outfit again."

Frowning, she asked, "You don't like this, sir?"

"No. Come on: you're prettier than that; wear only dresses to work, or mini-skirts." He couldn't believe Camilla was allowing him to talk that way to her, but actually, it was turning her on. 

"I'm sorry, sir. I dressed this way to protect you from any more gossip, and so your wife wouldn't get mad."

"Ah, fuck her," he said. "Nothing makes her happy." 

"Well, I don't wanna wear these clothes if they don't please you, sir. Do you want me to take them off?"

"Yes, I do," he said most bluntly.

"Alright," she said with timid compliance, and immediately unzipped her pants and pulled them down. Then she undid the rest of her shirt buttons and took the shirt off. Now she stood before him in only her purple underwear and high heels. "Do my bra and panties look OK, or do you want me to take them off, too?" Her hands were on her bra hook, ready to undo it.

"As much as I'd like that," he said, watching her unhook her bra and move her hands to the sides so as just about to bare her nipples for him, "that won't be necessary." She refastened her bra hook. "If someone knocks on the door, it'll be harder to get you dressed again. By the way, you forgot to lock the door." She locked it. "Besides, your underwear looks very sexy on that perfect body of yours."

Affecting a sneer at his lechery, but happily acquiescing to it all the same, she said, "Thank you, sir," and walked over to him. 

"Turn around for me, sweetie. Lemme get a good look at you." 

"Yes, sir," she said, and held up her hair as she slowly turned around. When she had her back to him, she bent down and pointed her ass out at him, gyrating it slowly clockwise and counter-clockwise. Looking back at him, she asked, "Do you like that?"

"Do I ever," he grunted. Leaning forward on his chair so her ass would be mere millimetres from his face, he was rock-hard in his trousers, and his nose was searching for faecal smells. 

"But what about when I have to go out, sir?" she asked in her ditzy 'Dolly' voice, still gyrating for him.

"Well, put your clothes back on," he said, still sniffing and panting.

"But Mr. Holland, I don't wanna wear clothes you don't like, and I can't go out in my underwear. What am I gonna do?"

"Well, I'll just have to take you out to an early lunch, and buy you a new dress."

"Oh, sir! Thank you!" she squealed, then sat on his pointy lap, facing him, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek. 

Though he appreciated her physical contact, the weight of her body reminded him of his injuries. "Ah!" he groaned. "Be careful of my bruises, cupcake."

"Oh, sorry, sir," she said, then got an idea. If Nigrovum could help her heal quickly, why not use it to help him heal faster, too? "Wait, sir. Let me try something. I think I can help you feel better." She put her head on his left shoulder and hugged him tighter. 

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Please don't say anything for a minute or so," she insisted, beginning to concentrate. "I need to focus my thoughts."

"Whatever," he said, completely clueless as to what she was going to do. They sat there silently for about a minute, her concentrating on all of his bruised and scarred areas. The Nigrovum helped her locate them exactly. His body started to vibrate mysteriously with hers. She visualized all those hurt areas perfectly healed, and after a minute, he was as good as new. 

"OK, sir," she said, moving her head back so she could look at him. "How do you feel now?"

He moved around, imagining he'd detect soreness, but fantastically, he felt none. "I feel...great," he said in amazement. "What did you do?"

"Let's just say an angel or two fell out of the sky and became friends with me." 

Looking at her as if she were speaking to him in an alien language, he said, "Whatever you did, thank you."

"My pleasure," she said, then got up, turned around, and sat on his lap again. She leaned back and rested her back against his chest; then she started grinding on his erection for a while. His hands roamed all over her soft, smooth, pink skin: her arms, belly, and legs. Sometimes he gently pulled on the elastic of her panties and let go, snapping it against her skin. She was happy to indulge him, for after all the pain he'd endured, he deserved some pleasure. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Miles?" a man's voice called.

"Just a minute," the boss said. "Up you get, sweetie. Wear this." He gave her his raincoat.

"Yes, sir," she said, getting up. As she walked to the side of the room with his raincoat in her hands, he spanked her on the behind as he went over to answer the door. "What is it?"

"I just got an e-mail from Mr. Murdoch," the man said. "He wants to know about when those technical issues will be resolved." 

"Don't worry about that," Mr. Holland said. "I'll e-mail him about that sometime this afternoon." The man walked away. "OK, baby, let's go shopping." Camilla, wearing his raincoat, put her shirt and pants in her desk drawer, and she and her boss got their umbrellas and left the office together, insouciant of all the gossips. 

They walked in the heavy rain from Bay Street to Yonge, arriving at the Eaton's Centre about ten minutes later. On the second floor, they found a women's clothing store she liked, then they looked through the dresses to find one he liked. He found a tight-fitting red one that would go down to her knees. She went into the fitting room and took off his raincoat; holding the door open, he ogled her in her bra and panties.

"Wait a minute," he said as she was about to put the dress on. "Before you put it on, lemme look at you for a minute." 

"Yes, sir," said, putting the dress on a hook. She then began posing for him in various erotic ways: first she sat on the bench and spread her legs wide open, putting her hand in her panties and briefly masturbating for him; then she got up, turned around, and bent over, gyrating her ass again. He pulled on the elastic of her panties at the back, revealing some of her anal cleft, then let go, snapping the elastic against her ass. "Ooh!" she squealed from the sting of the snapping, but she was all too happy to indulge his every desire. Encouraged, he pulled on the elastic again; this time, when her anal cleft was showing, she put her hands on her ass, opened her buttocks out wide, and let him see her brown anus for the first time. She looked back at him to see his reaction: he just stared for several seconds, bug-eyed in awe of the crude beauty she was willingly letting him see. "Have you seen enough, sir? Or shall I show you more?"

"Oh, uh, that's OK," he said, remembering he was in a public place. "Put on the dress, sweetie."

"OK," she said in a sing-song voice, and put the dress on. It was a perfect fit. He bought it, and she wore it out of the store. 

Walking in the direction of a food court, they approached a store selling women's lingerie and underwear. 

"Oh, sir," she said. "Can I look at the underwear here for a minute, please? I really like it."

"Sure," he said. "I like it, too. I'll even buy you some, if you like."

"Oh, you're so sweet to me. I'll let you pick what you'd like to see me wearing, OK?"

"Sure," he said, and together they looked through all the colours. "Let's see: I've seen you in white, pink, and purple underwear: let's find a new colour for you. Here, we'll get these red bra and panties. I think you'll look real sexy in them."

"Thank you, sir," she said, and kissed him on the cheek. 

******************

After buying them lunch in an elegant French restaurant, Mr. Holland took Camilla back to the office at about 1:10 PM. His wife was still there, contrary to his hopes that she'd have left by then to go back to her job. She was standing by his desk. Though Camilla was glad she'd hidden her shirt and pants so Mrs. Holland wouldn't see them and suspect anything, she was still afraid of what was going to happen. Camilla went fearfully to her desk, while jealous Mrs. Holland walked up to her husband with a threatening look in her eyes.

"Where did you go with the slut?" she asked.

"Honey, I..." he began to say.

"Shut up, you stupid asshole," she snapped at him. Then she whispered, "If next week I find out you went to Montreal with that whore secretary of yours, I'll castrate you in your sleep. Bye." She left the office. 

"M-maybe you shouldn't come with me on the business trip," he said with a trembling voice.

"Maybe I should, sir," she said, locking the door and taking off her dress. She went to his desk and sat on his lap. "I don't like the way she treats you. You need another woman to satisfy your emotional needs. I'm willing to fill that position." For the time being, anyway, she thought. 

"But she said she's gonna..."

"She won't do anything. Not if my 'angel friends' and I can help it. I'll make sure no one knows we're going to Montreal together." She kissed him on the cheek, bounced on his hardening cock, and let him grope her in her underwear again. He cupped his hands around her breasts and gently squeezed them, and she rotated her ass clockwise on his rock-hard erection. His hands wandered all over her skin; at one point, she bent forward, and he touched her back. "Wanna snap my bra, sir?"

"I'd love to," he moaned, pulled on the bra strap, and let go, snapping it on her back. "I love how you indulge me."

"I love pleasing you, Mr. Holland."

******************

That night at Club Ritz, Camilla talked with Candice about their plans to turn Agape away from Carrie. Candice, high on cocaine, was reluctant to leave her beloved drugs alone, even for just a few days, but Camilla insisted. 

"I can use Nigrovum to keep my high under control, Camil," Candice said. "I miss you." 

"I think Nigrovum is making you want more drugs," Camilla said. "It was driving me nuts, now it's driving you nuts. You're turning into a junkie, and you're hurting yourself. You told me to ease off using the Nigrovum; now you ease off the drugs. Baby, I'm worried about you." 

Throwing her arms around Camilla, Candice began to cry. "I'm so lonely, Camil. Ever since I moved into that new apartment. Are we ever gonna make love again?"

"Of course we will," Camilla said, kissing her on the cheek. 

"Oh, yeah? When?"

"Right now." Camilla kissed her on the lips, then unclipped Candice's black bra. Candice pulled off her panties as Camilla, still pecking her on the lips, removed Candice's bra. Camilla then started kissing naked Candice on the neck, and kissed her way down to her belly. Candice ran her hands through squatting Camilla's hair as she began licking Candice's pussy, right in front of all the customers, who couldn't have been any more eager to watch this sexy spectacle. Camilla squeezed Candice's buttocks as she licked, opening them to expose her red anus. The customers cheered as Camilla got Candice's clitoris hard as a stone. 

What made this spectacle especially exciting for the men watching was how they knew clothed Camilla wasn't a stripper; she was just eating out her friend. Camilla put her left index finger inside Candice's ass and her right finger inside Candice's wet cunt. After tickling her G-spot for a minute or so, Camilla felt Candice's come pour out; she lapped it all up. 

"Will that satisfy you, for now at least?" Camilla asked, looking up at her lover. "I know I haven't been there much for you this past week, but there have been complications, OK? I don't want you high at Daddy's home; you won't be able to concentrate on controlling his mind in the state you're in now."

"OK," Candice sighed.

"Also, I'm going to Montreal with my boss for the weekend; I'll be back by Sunday afternoon."

"You're leaving me?" Candice asked, getting sad again.

"Oh, I'll be back before you know. My boss wants to fuck me, so we're going on a business trip together. You'll be OK: just hang on till I get back. Come over on Sunday night; but don't be high."

"OK, OK," Candice said. "But before you leave tonight, let's make love again."

"Sure," Camilla said. "When are you going onstage?"

"Right now, actually. Come watch me."

"With pleasure," Camilla said, and she followed Candice over to the stage. As Camilla approached the tip rail, she saw the back of the head of a familiar-looking man. When she looked over to see his face, she saw no one other than Mr. Holland! "Oh, hi sir!" she squealed with delight. Sitting on his lap, she asked, "What brings you here?"

"A strong urge to get away from my wife, what else?" he said, his hard-on already growing in his pants. "Why are you here, of all places?"

"My friend, who's onstage now, works here."

"Wait a minute: you were the one eating her pussy just now?"

"Yep: she and I have been lovers for several months now."

"So you like girls, eh?"

"Yeah," she said with a lewd giggle. "Men, too."

"Do you have any flaws?" he asked, awed by how boundlessly sexy Camilla was.

"I dunno. Wanna find out?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Would you like to see me naked, sir?"

"I'd love to, but--I mean--are you moonlighting here?"

"No, I'm not a stripper. I mean, I used to be a lap-dancer, but not now."

"Then why are you working her tonight?"

"I'm not; I just want to please you by showing you what my body looks like."

"You're so thoughtful, Camilla." 

"Come on, sir. Let's go into one of the private rooms." As they walked away from the stage, she gestured to Candice where she would be, so the girls could meet there later. 

When they went into the private room, both of them were amazed at what they saw. Expecting to see only couches and coffee tables, they also saw a toilet, a shower stall, and even a bed! Obviously, the mafia owners of Club Ritz were paying off the cops to turn a blind eye to how the strip joint was doubling as a whorehouse. 

"Wow, this is great!" Camilla said as they went over to a couch and sat down. "I'm working here; I'm definitely working here."

"So, you used to be a lap-dancer, eh?" he asked. 

"Yeah," she said, sitting on his lap.

"I can believe that, the way you can grind on a man's cock."

"I like pleasing you; you don't get enough pleasure." A new song began. "OK, I guess it's time to show you my body." She got up and danced slowly in front of him, swaying her hips from side to side and unzipping her dress at the back. When her dress came off, she asked him, "See anything different, sir?"




Camilla Ch. 057



"Uh, no. Sorry, what's different?"

"My underwear, of course. Can't you see?"

"No, sweetie. It's too dark in here."

"Wait," she said, looking at the lamp beside their couch. "Maybe I can set it brighter." She reached over and clicked the light switch on the lamp, making it brighter; clicking it again, she got it brighter; then again she clicked it, but it turned off. "Oh, sorry." She clicked it again three times to get the brightest setting. "There, can you see now?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "You're wearing your new red bra and panties. They look lovely on you."

"Thank you," she said with a giggle. "Now to show you my tits; I know how much you like them."

"Please, hurry," he said, leaning forward. She unclipped her bra at the front, then pulled it off quickly, wiggling her breasts and feigning shock at the idea of him seeing her tits for the first time. "Wow!"

"Thank you, sir," she said, dropping her bra on the floor. Then, still swaying her hips, she put her hand down in her panties and fingered her clitoris. "Ooh," she moaned.

"Please, honey," he begged. "Take them off."

"Yes, sir," she said, pulling them down and showing him the pubic hair he saw the day before when she'd peed in front of him. After kicking off her panties, she took off her high heels. She was now completely naked. Turning around so he could see all of her, she asked, "So, do I look good naked?"

"Not a single flaw," he sighed. "Can I see your holes again, please?"

"Sure thing," she said, and, still with her back to him, bent over and spread her legs out wide so he could see her purple pussy and brown asshole. He leaned forward to get close enough to sniff. "Oh, sir, I may be a little stinky. I pooped a half hour ago."

"That's just fine with me," he said, enjoying the faecal smell. "That's fantastic." He kept on sniffing. 

"So, you like that?"

"Yes, I do."

"Wow, I knew I guy who was into that. Well, if you like it, I'll just have to let you enjoy it some more." She opened her buttocks and pussy so both holes were now wide open for his gluttonous nose. 

"That's just great," he said. "Am I allowed to touch?"

"Of course, sir," she said. "Feel away."

He put his finger inside her asshole, boring in deeper and deeper. She was moaning her approval. He pulled his finger out, and it had her shit on it. The coprophiliac said, "Oh, I love it."

Looking back, she said, "You have my poop on your finger?"

"Yeah," he said, admiring the object of his fetish. "If you like, I'll wash my hand, OK?"

"Would you like to clean me in the shower stall?"

"I'd love to." They went over there, and he cleaned her vagina and rectum thoroughly. He loved watching her brown wash down the drain. He then got a towel and dried her off. "Shall we go back to the couch?"

"Absolutely," she said, and they went back for more lap-dancing. She grinded on his cock aggressively while he gently squeezed her breasts. Then she got up, turned around, and sat on his lap again, facing him. She French kissed him as he pushed his finger deep inside her asshole again. She looked in his eyes as he probed her rectum, her eyes lewdly showing her approval of his lechery. He pulled his finger out, and she lifted up her legs to show him her pussy. He put his fingers inside and massaged her G-spot. She sighed and squealed her delight, while pushing her buttocks against his erection. "Sir," she asked, "would you like to taste me?"

"Would I ever," he said. She got up, and got on the floor on all fours, spreading her legs and pushing out her behind so her asshole and pussy were accessible to his mouth. He frantically licked her asshole while sticking his fingers inside her pussy, poking his long finger against her A-spot. She screamed with pleasure. Then she got on her back, and he put his face between her legs, wildly lapping her cunt. After a minute or two of licking, she spewed her come all over his face. "Wow," he said, licking her come off his lips. "Now I'd better wash up." He went over to the shower stall and washed his face after getting as much of her come on his fingers as he could and licking them off. 

"Thank you for giving me so much pleasure, sir," she said.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said. "You made me come, not vice versa." 

"I'd better get home. The bitch is gonna be wondering where I've been. She may smell your perfume on me. I'd better dirty myself up." He poured some beer on himself to disguise the smell. "Bye, Camilla. See you at work tomorrow."

"Bye, and good luck at home." He left. Naked Candice then entered the private room. "Hi, Candice: now, where were we?" The girls got into a 69 position--Candice on her back, and Camilla on top--and started licking. 

"Oh," Candice moaned. "You're nice and come-smelling." She continued licking Camilla's pussy and asshole.

"Yeah," Camilla sighed between licks of Candice's pussy. "My boss had a taste of me. Ah!"

"That was him?" Candice fingered Camilla's clit. "Ah!" 

"Yeah, he's really sweet...His wife's a bitch, though...I'll have to use...my psychic power...to protect him. She batters him. Oh!"

"Really?" Candice sighed. "I've never heard...of a battered man. Oh!" Candice's finger was deep inside Camilla's pussy. 

"Same here," Camilla moaned. "But he is...I've seen the scars. Ah!" She came all over Candice's face. 

They sat there for a few minutes, catching their breath. "Can't I come over...to your dad's home...tonight, Camil?" Candice asked.

"No," Camilla said. "You're still too high...sorry. Hang on till Sunday, OK? Then come over at night...not high." Camilla left Club Ritz soon after that.

******************

The next day, Camilla came into the office wearing a tight-fitting black dress. She was naked under it. 

Mr. Holland came in at about 10:45. He seemed to be unhurt.

"Good morning, sir," she said. "How are you today?"

"Actually, quite good," he said. "The bitch didn't do anything to me."

Of course not, Camilla thought; I kept her psychically under control. 

After locking the door, she went over to him and said, "Mr. Holland, I'm naked under my dress. Want me to take it off?"

"I'd love that, but I don't want to press my luck," he said, sitting down. "The bitch will be here pretty soon. Also, the office gossip is getting bad. I got a lot of weird looks just now."

"OK," she said, sitting on his lap. Then she whispered, "By the way, I've arranged everything for our trip to Montreal tomorrow. We have a room at the le Chalet, with a bar, washroom, and a queen-size bed." 

He grinned. "We have a room with a queen-size bed?" 

"Yep," she said with a suggestive smile.

"Singular nouns never sounded so sexy," he said. She giggled. 

"We have to be at the airport at about six in the morning," she said. "Ooh! I have to go to the washroom."

"Can I join you?" he asked.

"If you want to, of course, but I have to poop."

"That's OK, I'd like to watch."

"You wanna watch me poo?" she asked. He nodded eagerly. Unruffled by his fetish, she nonchalantly said, "OK. Let's go."

They snuck into the washroom together, and she took off her dress and sat naked on the toilet. 

"OK," he said, standing in front of her. "Crap away." 

First, she farted audibly, but showed no signs of embarrassment on her face, knowing this coprophiliac would enjoy all the sounds and smells, as Mr. Leroy had. Indeed, he was already eagerly sniffing. Then he could hear her turds plopping into the toilet water. 

"I love the sound of your pretty asshole in action," he said. She giggled as she continued shitting. 

"But it's poop, sir," she said.

"Coming from your beautiful ass, I'll bet it's fudge from Europe." 

She moaned softly as the shit slid out of her rectum. He was delighted to hear her sighs of relief, imagining the comfort her pretty asshole was feeling at that moment. As she continued shitting, she stroked the bulge in front of his pants. Finally, she was done, and she reached for the toilet paper. 

After she pulled some off from the roll, he asked, "May I do the honours, baby?"

"You wanna wipe my bum?" she asked.

"Yes, please."

"OK," she said, then got off the toilet and got on the floor on all fours, spreading her legs wide open and pushing out her behind so he could see her muddy asshole. She looked back at him without any embarrassment, flattered that he worshipped her body so much as to adore her natural smells and bodily functions. 

He wiped the brown away, sniffing the divine stink and fetishing each wrinkle on her wide-open anus as the brown came off, revealing the beige, puckered skin. "You are so beautiful, Camilla," he said when he was done.

Giggling, she said, "You are so sweet, sir." She let him sniff her asshole some more before they left the washroom. 

********************

Candice, all alone in her apartment that night, did more heroin. She used Nigrovum to make her coming down less unpleasant, and to help her sleep. But not even Nigrovum could heal her loneliness. 

********************

After setting her alarm clock for four o'clock so she'd have enough time to get to the airport, Camilla then lay in bed and waited to hear Agape go into his bedroom to sleep. When he was in bed and sleeping, she made him dream of black-haired Candice again. They hadn't done any drugs that Friday night, since she had to get up early for her business trip. She was happy to know that, without E or grass, her dad was getting less resistant to the influence of Nigrovum. Making this easier, though, was Camilla's giving him a less blatantly sexual dream. It was still erotic enough to incline him towards liking Candice as a lover. She also used Nigrovum to simulate his feeling of being on drugs; this would make him resist the eroticism of the dream less. 

In his dream, Candice was with him in a French restaurant, like the one Camilla had been in with her boss that Thursday. Candice was wearing the dress Camilla's boss had bought for her that day, too. In the dream, they held hands and looked lewdly in each other's eyes. The dress was unbuttoned, showing off a generous amount of Candice's cleavage. Agape stared at her breasts, and Candice happily allowed him to. 

Camilla didn't dare go any further with the sexiness of that dream. It was enough to keep him interested in her friend. As long as he wasn't dreaming about Carrie.

When Camilla herself went to sleep, she dreamt about Li-ping. Camilla was licking the Asian girl's pussy in that basement dining room in the mansion. As Camilla was dreaming, her tongue was stuck out, flickering. 



Camilla Ch. 058



As she had done on previous nights recently, Camilla used Nigrovum to help her stay awake after having had very little sleep; wearing tiger-skin tights (without underwear), black high heels, and her usual harlot-bright makeup, she waited in front of Agape's house for Mr. Holland to pick her up in his car.

It was about 4:45 AM when his car stopped at the curb in front of her dad's house. Mr. Holland got out of the car to get a better look at her. "What are you wearing, baby?" he asked as he ogled her.

"Do you like it?" she asked, turning around for him. "I know you prefer dresses and skirts, but this is kinda sexy too, eh?"

"It sure is, my tempting little tigress," he said, looking up and down at her. "Look, you even have a camel-toe."

"Yeah," she said, giggling. "Wanna touch?"

"Definitely." He stroked her between the legs with his right hand, and she closed her eyes, moaning softly. His left hand caressed her buttocks, moving up and down her anal cleft, then moved up to fondle her right breast. "No undies...wonderful."

"Sir," she sighed. "As much as...I love the way...you touch me, if you continue...I'll come, and mess up...my clothes."

"You're right," he said. "We've gotta get going to the airport, anyway. Get in the car, sweetie; I'll put your bag in the trunk."

****************

They arrived at le Chalet, their hotel in Montreal, at about 10 AM. As soon as the bellboy left them alone in their room, Camilla unzipped her tights at the back.

"Wait, cupcake," he said. "I'm gonna be too busy for that right now. Wait till tonight, OK?"

"OK," she said, having already pulled off the tights and removing her shoes. "But I want to take a shower. I feel dirty."

Looking at her frontally naked body, he said, "You don't seem that way to me...at least not on the outside." She giggled and went into the bathroom.

She had her shower as he went over his business papers; he continued his work after she finished up in the bathroom and went to bed nude for a nap. It took all of his strength to refrain from pulling away the blankets and admiring that body with his hands and mouth, but he had to finish preparing what he would do that afternoon.

At about 1 PM, he was finished, and he had to wake her up. He wouldn't do so without having a little fun, though.

He carefully pulled the blankets away so as not to disturb her. She lay on her belly with her legs open in a thin Lambda shape; he gazed on her naked beauty, adoring her softness and curves. He gently and slowly opened her buttocks, careful not to wake her, and brought his mouth down to her exposed anus. He tongued it while closing her buttocks against either side of his face. She still hadn't woken, but she sighed softly, as though his excitations were improving her dreams. Then he slowly slid his right index finger inside her vagina; reaching her G-spot, he massaged it briefly. He gently kissed her anus.

"Oh," Camilla moaned, waking up and looking back at her boss. "Do you like that, sir?"

"Oh," he said, raising his head up suddenly. "Sorry, sweetie; I couldn't resist. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, I liked it; best wake-up I ever had." She rolled over, showing off her large breasts and pubic hair. Then she yawned and stretched, pushing her breasts out for his hungry eyes to see.

Resisting temptation for the sake of being on time, he said, "Get dressed, honey. We have to get to the first factory by 2 PM. Don't wear that tiger-skin outfit, though. We won't be able to concentrate on our work."

"OK, I'll put on a dress." She got off the bed, and as she walked over to her luggage he spanked her ass. She took out a tight-fitting brown dress and matching high heels. "Do you want me to wear underwear, Mr. Holland?"

"Whichever you prefer, cupcake."

"OK, I won't."

*****************

After their visit to the factories, they joined his Quebec associates in a fancy restaurant for a business dinner. Mr. Holland and M. Larre were sitting opposite Camilla at their table for five, and both men were eyeing her lasciviously.

As the four businesspeople (one of whom was a fat woman in her fifties) were discussing what could be done in the factories to improve efficiency and prevent future product malfunctions, Camilla--though taking notes above the table--had removed her right shoe and slid her foot under Mr. Holland's crotch. Gently sliding her foot back and forth, she massaged his erection.

She found Mr. Larre, 48, with streaks of grey hair embellishing his black hair, as attractive as her boss. He dropped his fork under the table; Camilla used Nigrovum to distract the other three so he, unnoticed, could search under the table for it...and see whatever else might have been of interest. She also psychically emboldened and prodded him, so he promptly got under the table.

A split-second accidental look up the fat woman's skirt made him quickly turn his head away in disgust; then he looked up Camilla's dress and saw her glorious pussy. Her legs were spread open, and her fingers pulled her labia wide open. Seeing her foot rubbing against Holland's boner, M. Larre softly snickered to himself; then he brought his hand over to her cunt and slowly slid his finger inside. He gently pushed it in deeper and pulled it out again... in, out, in, out. She got wetter and wetter.

Sighing softly with her mouth slightly open and her eyes half-closed, Camila tried to hide her excitement from the others at the table. Mr. Holland noticed, but assumed she was hot from touching him. Larre pushed his finger several times against her A-spot, and she, pretending to cough, came in his cupped hand. (Her dress was flipped up, so she didn't make a mess on it.) He drank her come, licked his hand, got his fork, and got up to rejoin the others. She used her napkins to clean up the mess on her chair.

When they finished their dinner, M. Larre chatted with Camilla by the restaurant cash register as their bill was being settled.

"So, what are you doing later tonight, Camilla?" he asked.

Knowing what he was implying, she said, "Sorry; Mr. Holland wants me to be with him tonight. He's my boss, and I must obey him."

"Of course, that's part of your jo-, uh, respon-"

"No, no," she whispered with a grin and taking no offence at what he obviously meant. "I'm just his secretary, not a prostitute."

"Oh, I'm sorry if I seemed to be implying..."

"Oh, no, that's OK. He's not paying me for what you saw me doing under the table. I like doing things like that for him."

"Why do you like doing that, Camilla?"

"Because it pleases him," she answered in all candour.

"I see," he said with a lewd smile. "Lucky guy. You like, uh, pleasing men?"

"If I like them. You ever come down to Toronto?"

"Often. In fact, I'll be there at a party next Friday. I'd love to have you accompany me. Would you like to come?"

"I'd love to!" she squealed with a smile. "I love to party."

"How can I contact you next week?"

"Do you know a strip joint called Club Ritz?"

"Yes," he said. "I go there every time I visit Toronto."

"Great. I'm there every night to see my girlfriend, Candice; she strips there. She's a really hot-looking redhead. I'm sure you'd like her."

"Great. I'll see you there, and your friend can join us, if she wants to come."

They all left the restaurant, and Mr. Holland and Camilla said goodbye to M. Larre and the other two. Then she and her boss decided to check out the night life in Montreal.

A taxicab driver recommended a hot dance club, and he drove them there. They went inside, eager to have some fun. He bought them some beers at the bar, and they went over to the dance floor, which was packed with sweating people. Up high, they could see male and female go-go dancers in chic outfits expertly moving their desirable bodies in cages to inspire everyone down on the dance floor.

With loud techno music and flashing lights assailing their senses from all directions, the two lovers danced in a frenzy. Camilla shook her head, tits, and ass with wild abandon, and Holland loved watching her move. Staring in each other's eyes, they got up close and started gyrating their hips together, as if they were fucking in front of everybody.

*******************

Several hours later, they returned to their hotel. As they walked down the hall, clumsy from tipsiness, they laughed and kept each other from falling.

"Oh, that was fun," she said as they reached their room.

"Yeah," he said, taking their room key out of his pocket. "OK, I wanna take a shower. You get in bed and wait for me." After they got in their room, he spanked her behind as she shuffled ahead, unzipping her dress and kicking off her high heels. After getting in the bathroom, he said to himself, "Miles Holland gets lucky at last."

Ten minutes later, he came out of the bathroom naked and saw her naked on the bed on all fours: her legs were wide open and her ass pushed out so her anus and vulva were in plain view. She looked forward to the wall, waiting for him to surprise her. Her tube of anal lube lay on her right side on the bed, and the sight of her pretty, puckered, brown asshole let him know exactly what to do.

He got on the bed behind her, took the lube, and lubed his hard cock and her rectum thoroughly. "Ready or not, here I come," he said, aiming for her ass.

"OK, sir," she said, sighing with salacious expectation. "But don't come till I've been thoroughly drilled, OK?" She giggled at that.

"Absolutely," he grunted as he pushed the tip of his cock against her happily opening anal orifice.

She looked back at him as he slid his cock in a few inches; she squinted and opened her mouth wide, moaning and sighing as his cock went in deeper.

When he got in halfway, he asked, "Does it hurt?"

"No, sir," she groaned. "Ah! If it...pleases you, I'm happy...Oh!"

He slid all the way in and grunted loudly with delight. "That feels...so good! Ah!" He kept pushing in and pulling out, stretching and widening her rectum. He felt her tits as he fucked her tight ass, kissing her on the back. "The wife...would never...let me...enjoy this...with her. Ah!"

"I'm glad...I could fill...that void...for you, sir."

"I thought...I was filling...your void," he panted; she giggled between groans. "Lemme fill...your other void." He pulled his cock out and, poised to give it to her doggy-style, he pushed the tip against her vaginal opening.

"Oh, thank you, sir," she sighed as it entered. "Oh!"

He slid his cock in three inches; his corpus spongiosum brushed against her G-spot. She screamed with pleasure from that delicious sensation. As he pushed in deeper, her sighs grew louder and higher in pitch. By the time his cock had got all the way in and his knob kissed her A-spot, she gushed her first orgasm; his cock and balls were soaking. He kept thrusting, and the tip of his dick kept pecking away at her A-spot. She gushed some more.

"Oh, my God!" she screamed. "Ah!"

As his thrusts continued, she made her vagina constrict and hug his phallus tightly. Admiring her still wide-open asshole, which was agape, it seemed, with amazement at what his cock could do, he fingered the wrinkles of its orifice.

"I'm gonna come," he panted.

"Wanna...spray it...on my ass?" she asked with a shaking voice. "Oh!"

He pulled his cock out right when he was on the verge of ejaculating; then he splashed his discharge all over her beautiful, round buttocks. Some jizz got on her anal cleft, just below the top of the crack, and the rest splashed all over her left buttock. They lay on the bed--him on his back and her on her belly--and slowly regained their breath.

"That was...a fuck to remember," he panted.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed.

"Why did I...have to marry...such an awful...woman?"

"She must have been...better when you...were dating."

"Yeah, but...marriage changes things." He stared at his come, which so prettily adorned her ass.

"I wish you could leave her, sir." She looked in his eyes with compassion for how he suffered from such an abusive wife.

"Leave her, yeah...and marry you?" he asked, stroking her hair.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that...I'm not the marrying kind...I like my freedom...Sorry."

"I understand. Let's get some sleep."

"I'll clean up first," she said, then went to the bathroom and washed his come off in the shower.

********************

They woke up at 7:30 on Sunday morning.

"Come on, sweetie," he said, yawning. "Let's get some breakfast." She got out of bed, and he sat on the side of it. "How depressing: I've gotta go back and face the bitch this afternoon. The party's over."

"Not yet, sir," she said, kneeling before him. "Not necessarily; want a blow job?"

"I'd love one," he grunted, opening his legs, which she got in between. She played with his cock to get it hard, and brought her face up close to the knob.

"Do you want to come in my mouth, or on my face?"

"On your pretty face, please?"

Looking up in his eyes with a lewd smile, she sighed, "You're my boss, and I must obey you." She immediately started kissing and licking the tip of his cock.

He looked down at her as she put his erection in her mouth. With such bad luck in choosing a wife, he couldn't believe his good fortune in meeting this slut with a heart of gold. His wife treated him like a 'retard', as she in her meanness too often called him; Camilla, in her sweet, willing submission, treated him like a king. Her wet lips slid up and down his shaft, and her fingers gently jiggled his balls. She always had her eyes fixed on his as she sucked, ever communicating her desire to please him with her mouth as best she could. She took his cock out and licked his bulging corpus spongiosum from bottom to top; then she put his balls in her mouth and sucked on his scrotum while jerking him off just enough to keep him hard, but not enough to make him come.

She took his balls out of her mouth and took his cock back in, deep-throating it. His pubic hair tickled her face and poked at her eyes. She felt him about to ejaculate, and just when he'd reached the point of no return she pulled her head back, making a popping sound when his knob came out of her mouth. Keeping his dick pointed at her face, she made sure he came all over it. "Ah!" she screamed and squinted when the first blast splattered against her left eye and upper nose. She giggled when the second spewing hit her right cheek. She continued giggling and screaming as the other shots soaked her lips, nose, and left cheek. Wiping the come out of her eye with her finger and looking up at him with a lascivious grin, she giggled like a little girl and said, "I'll all gooey."

"Yes, you are," he said, looking down at her. "The sweetest girl I've ever known."

"Ooh," she said suddenly. "I've gotta go to the bathroom." She got up, and he followed her in. She sat on the toilet and began peeing. Looking up at him, she spread her legs open so he could see. He admired the golden line pouring down, and wished his penis wasn't spent.

"Baby, you piss apple juice," he said.

"Thank you," she said with a grin and another giggle. His come continued dripping down her cheeks and off her nose and chin. She finished peeing, then reached for the toilet paper. As she wiped herself, her labia were opened for his viewing pleasure; she just looked up at him with the innocent eyes of a child and let him enjoy the show.

"I'd love to watch you poop again," he said as she reached over to flush the toilet. "I wanna see more of those chocolate bar turds fall out of your beautiful ass."

"I can give myself an enema, sir," she said, getting up. "I brought my enema nozzle and stuff, 'cause I thought you'd be into that. Shall we do that?"

"Oh, yes," he groaned. "You are soooooo considerate, sweetie."

She went over to her bag, got out her enema nozzle, and got everything ready. When she returned to the toilet, he was getting an erection again. He helped her put the thing up her ass, and she stroked his cock. As the liquid went inside, she squirmed and fidgeted on the toilet, feeling cramping and urgency; then her shit all came pouring out.

She continued jerking him off as she shat. "What do you call a scat porno movie based on a Roald Dahl children's story?" he asked, panting to the sensitive strokes of her hand.

"I dunno," she said, playing with his cock and grunting as the cascade of shit kept coming out of her asshole. "What?"

"Willy Wanking and the Chocolate Factory." Imagining the pleasure she was feeling from her evacuation's massaging of her rectal walls, he was approaching orgasm.

She giggled at his weird joke; when she finished crapping, he--enjoying the smell--came on her breasts. She looked down at herself and saw his come dripping off her right nipple. Always aware of the come still dripping off her face, she said, "I think it's time I took a shower."

"OK," he said, "but first, can I wipe your pretty asshole clean?" He got on his knees.

"Sure," she said, flushing the toilet and getting down on the floor on all fours. She gave him the toilet paper, spread her legs out wide, and pointed her behind toward his face so he could see her dirty asshole. He wiped the brown off, sniffing away and admiring the sight of the beige wrinkles of her anus as they appeared once the shit had been wiped away. Then she got in the shower.

********************

Back in Toronto, Camilla went to dinner with her father and his girlfriend, Carrie, who was in a sexy red dress. It was difficult for Camilla to sustain a phoney smile the whole time they were eating and talking. Indeed, Carrie was pretty and seemed nice, but jealous Camilla would be happy only if that woman was out of their lives forever.

"So, Camilla," Carrie asked, "you're going to follow in your father's footsteps and be a professor of literature too, eh?"

"Yeah," Camilla said. "I hope so."

"I'm sure she can," Agape said. "She has the brains to do it."

"I know where I get them from, Daddy," she said, beaming at him.

"Yep," Carrie added. "Your dad's certainly a smart one, and a kind one; that's why I love him so." She kissed him on the lips. Camilla's smile instantly turned into a frown that she tried to hide.

Tonight Miles has to be with a woman he doesn't like, and so do I, Camilla thought. She couldn't wait for Candice to get a chance to fuck Agape, and--it was to be hoped--make him not want Carrie anymore.

********************

They went to Agape's house, and Carrie said goodbye to Camilla at the front door.

"It was so nice finally meeting you, Camilla," Carrie said.

"N-nice meeting you, too," Camilla forced out.

Agape kissed Carrie on the lips. Camilla winced a the sight of it. "Goodnight, honey," he said. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetie," Carrie said. "Goodnight." She went to her car and drove away.

Camilla and Agape went inside the house. "Well, what do you think of her, Camilla?" he asked.

"She seems very nice," Camilla said. Trying her best not to look disapproving, she asked, "Are you gonna marry her?"

"It looks that way," he said with a smile as they went into the living room. "I haven't popped the question yet, but I'm getting bold."

"Well, I say let's celebrate," she said as she, taking her purse, went into the kitchen to get drinks for both of them.

"Good idea," he said, putting on some music and sitting down. "Do you still have any of that pot?"

"I sure do," she said as she took a pill of ecstasy out of her purse and put half in his bourbon. Mixing it all together, she asked, "Can we have Candice come over? She's lonely in that apartment all by herself." She brought his drink and a beer for herself into the living room.





Camilla Ch. 058



"Sure," he said, taking his drink. "Call her."

"Thanks, Dad," she said, getting her cellphone and an already-rolled marijuana cigarette from her purse. She gave him the joint, and he got a lighter from the coffee table. She rang up Candice. As he lit and puffed on the joint, she went into the kitchen and talked to Candice on the phone. "You aren't high, are you?...Good, come over. I put some E in his drink, and he's smoking a doob. Wear that black wig you bought, and a sexy red dress; that's how Carrie was dressed tonight at dinner. See you soon. Bye."

Candice arrived fifteen minutes later. Agape was stoned and tipsy; the ecstasy would begin to take effect soon. In his stupor, he found black-haired Candice surprisingly enchanting, especially in her red dress.

"Candice?" he slurred, getting up from his chair. "Is that you? That's a n-new look for you, isn't it? You look like my girlfriend, Carrie."

"You like how I look, Mr. Mennon?" Candice asked, turning around for him and eyeing him lewdly.

"B-beautiful," he said. "Charming; but don't t-tell Carrie I said that. Get a drink. Join us."

Camilla got a beer out of the fridge for Candice. "Thank you for staying clean," she said softly as she handed Candice her beer.

"It's been difficult," Candice said, changing the music to Drum and Bass. "Nigrovum helps with withdrawal, but it can do only so much."

"It's for your own good," Camilla said, giving her the joint to smoke. "A little pot's OK, but please, sweetie, leave the heroin and cocaine alone. At least cut down." Candice, puffing away, ignored her.

Soon, it was obvious to the girls that the ecstasy was taking effect, for Agape was completely wasted. His body tingling and his head swimming, Agape lay on the floor, thanks to Camilla's psychic suggestion. She used more mind control to make him think Carrie, rather than Candice, was in the room with them.

"Carrie?" he slurred. "You're back."

"Yeah," Candice said. "Let's fuck." Wearing no underwear, she flipped up her dress and squatted down between his legs; he caught sight of her pubic hair, ginger-coloured, but with those wisps of black mixed in. She unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and used Nigrovum to harden it. She sat on him in the cowgirl position and slid it in, moaning from its hugeness. "Your daddy's endowed, Camilla. Oh!"

Camilla watched in awe as they fucked. Being stoned herself from a few puffs of the joint, Camilla was uninhibited enough to watch her father's cock go in and out of Candice's pussy, enjoying what she saw instead of being horrified by her unnatural urges. Camilla was amazed by its size and beauty. Also wearing no underwear, she flipped up her dress and started masturbating as she watched.

"To think," she said as her finger tickled her hard clitoris. "That tower of perfection gave me life, and the body I have today."

As Candice went up and down on Agape's cock, Camilla psychically made her father's vision of Carrie's face dissolve almost imperceptibly into Candice's. She watched his face carefully to see his reaction, and psychically probed his mind to know if he found the sight of Candice--and not Carrie--having sex with him disturbing. He didn't seem to be troubled by who he was seeing on top of him; he was too stoned to know what was happening, and the girls' use of Nigrovum was keeping him even more confused. To be safe, Camilla psychically made Candice's face change back into Carrie's, then back to Candice's, then back to Carrie's, then Candice's...back and forth, and back and forth. He simply didn't know which girl he was fucking. In any case, he was enjoying it, so he just acquiesced happily.

Camilla went up to Candice and helped her take off her dress. Now she was naked on top of Agape, and he could enjoy seeing her beautiful, big-breasted body. Though Carrie's breasts were too small to be those he was seeing bouncing before him, the sight of Candice's, with their pointy nipples, was a pure delight, and he--in his weak-willed stupor--reached up and fondled them. She squealed when he pinched her nipples. Camilla removed her dress; now also naked, she took Candice's head in her hands and kissed her on the lips. The feeling of Camilla's hands gently sliding up and down Candice's arms made her come, and she got off of Agape. Candice psychically made his erection go limp, and she put his cock back in his pants. He lay there on the floor, fidgeting as he continued peaking on the ecstasy, barely cognizant of what had just happened.

Candice pulled off the wig, and Camilla buried her face between her legs. As she licked Candice's pussy, preparing her for another orgasm, she visualized Mr. Holland safe at home, with a wall of energy protecting him from his vicious wife.

As Camilla continued licking, kissing, and sucking on Candice's rock-hard clit, she, on all fours with her legs spread out in the usual way, had her ass pointed in Agape's direction. She was doing this at least unconsciously. Candice ran her hands through Camilla's hair and moaned louder and louder. Agape, still fidgeting, swayed his head to the side, where he saw Camilla's pussy and asshole just a couple of feet away. He quickly turned his head away, not sure whose secret places he'd just seen. In his high state, he soon forgot about it, and continued reeling to his peaking on the ecstasy.

Candice came, and Camilla lapped up her cooze. Then Candice got on top of Camilla, who was now on her back, and started sucking her left tit. As she enjoyed the sensitivity of Candice's lips and tongue on her nipple, Camilla tried to visualize a wall of energy keeping Carrie away from Agape. She couldn't concentrate, because Candice's sucking was getting her too excited. Candice's index finger tickled Camilla's clitoris, and her long finger went up Camilla's cunt. After a few minutes of tickling her G-spot, Candice made Camilla come all over her cupped hand. She used Nigrovum to keep the come in her hand, and not get it on the carpet. Candice brought her hand to her mouth and drank it all. The girls just lay there naked for several minutes, Candice's head on Camilla's chest.

Agape got up, and looked at the two naked girls. Shocked, he turned his head away. "Girls, get a r-room," he grunted before belching. As he walked over to the kitchen to fix himself another bourbon, he thought, That Candice sure has a nice body, though...if I wasn't with Carrie...



Camilla Ch. 059



On Monday morning, Mr. Holland went into the office unbruised, but emotionally shaken. Camilla saw the fear in his eyes as he sat at his desk, and she got up from her chair, locked the door, and went over to him. 

"Mr. Holland?" she asked, sitting on his lap. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," he said. "We'd better get to work."

"What did the Mrs. do now?" she asked, feeling his penis harden. "He's still attached, so we know she didn't make good on that threat, at least."

"No, but she's on the warpath. She'll find out I cheated with you, and I'll be dead." He was shaking. 

"She probably won't be here for another hour; a half hour, at the soonest."

"Come on, Camilla. My wife could be coming through the doors right now; you know that. She can't yet prove we were together last Saturday and Sunday, but she's determined to. Locking the door will only strengthen her suspicions."

"You need to relax, sir," Camilla said, removing her dress. Wearing no underwear, she was now nude except for her high heels. She unzipped his pants and got on her knees between his legs. 

"Wait, baby," he said with a shaking voice. 

"Just let me take care of everything," she said while pulling out his half-hard cock. She licked it underneath from the base to the knob, making him now fully erect. She played with his balls and looked up at him with salacious eyes. He leaned back on his chair and breathed heavily.

She kissed and licked his dick-hole several times, then put his manhood all the way in her mouth. Looking down at his virtuoso cocksucker, he could only be impressed with her perfect control over her gag reflex. As with Sunday morning at the hotel, his pubic hair tickled her face. After continuing to deep-throat him for several seconds, she pulled her head up, her wet lips sliding along his shaft up to his knob. She pulled her head back further, making a popping sound as his knob came quickly out of her mouth. 

She kissed his dick-hole and licked his protruding corpus spongiosum, then wrapped her tongue around the bulging tube, hugging it while her lips came around his shaft. Up and down her mouth went on his cock, having it go in usually two-thirds of the way, then pulling back and leaving it about a quarter of the way in.

"Oh!" he panted. "I'm gonna blow! In your...mouth, OK?"

"Mm-hmm," she said as she sucked. He came several copious bursts in her mouth; she looked up at him dutifully as she audibly gulped each spewing of his jizz, swallowing every last drop. She put his spent member back in his pants and zipped them up. 

"Oh, yeah!" he moaned loudly, blissfully ignorant of the eavesdroppers on the other side of the door to his office.

LIcking her lips, Camilla said, "I'm glad to be of service, sir. May I go to the washroom, please? I'd like to gurgle with some mouthwash."

"You go...right ahead, sweetie," he panted. "I need to rest...and contemplate...how incredible...that was."

Camilla put her dress back on and left the office. She tried to ignore the stares of all the gossips as she headed for the washroom. She could hear Sue say in a sing-song voice, "She's got a surprise coming," as she got to the washroom door. 

She went in, and before she even had time to react to the angry face of Mrs. Holland, who had been waiting for her to enter, the jealous wife grabbed her by the neck and shoved her against the wall, choking her.

"Listen here, you little whore!" Mrs. Holland threatened. "Miles is my husband; get your own Goddamn man!" She stared hard into Camilla's eyes, which strangely started changing from blue to black. Camilla's body was vibrating with the power of Nigrovum, and the vibrations pushed against Mrs. Holland's body. 

Camilla visualized tiny stars shining in her attacker's ears; Mrs. Holland heard an ear-piercingly shrill tone, just under 60,000 Hz--if dogs had been in earshot, they'd have been barking at the noise. Because of Camilla's use of Nigrovum, Mrs. Holland was the only human capable of hearing that loud, painful ringing. 

Her ears in agony, Mrs. Holland let go of Camilla to cover them, however useless it was to do so. She fell to the floor, and Camilla looked down at her with the face of the wild woman that had terrified Alex in Queen's Park a week before. "Don't ever fuck with a goddess, bitch!" she threatened with an eerily hoarse baritone voice. "And if you ever, ever hurt him again, I'll kill you." Camilla stopped the loud ringing in the ears of terrified Mrs. Holland, who remained lying on the floor, stupefied as to what had just happened to her. As though she were alone in the washroom, Camilla then gurgled with some mouthwash she had in her purse, and left. 

As she walked down the hall from the washroom back to her boss's office, she saw Sue and the others staring at her, worriedly wondering about what had happened in the washroom. Sue was especially shocked to see wild-looking Camilla's eyes, still black. "What the hell did you do to her in there?" Sue demanded. 

"This!" Camilla answered in that same frighteningly bestial voice; she looked at Sue and visualized those tiny stars in the gossip's ears. That same piercing ringing sound knocked Sue off her feet. "Get your gossip elsewhere!" She stopped the ringing in Sue's ears and went in Miles's office. She sat at her desk and tried to calm down. 

Miles stared at her in shock, noting her dishevelled, somewhat darker blonde hair and eyes, which slowly changed back to blue as she calmed down. "Camilla, are you OK?"

"Mr. Holland," she said with her back-to-normal voice. "Maybe I should quit. The gossip here is getting to me. Tomorrow will be my last day, OK? Sorry."

"I understand," he said. "Maybe it's all for the best."

I'll get a job stripping at Club Ritz. You can see me there, and we'll do whatever you like in the private rooms." 

********************

Indeed, she did become a stripper at Club Ritz that afternoon as soon as she finished her day in the office; she even started that very night. Candice was thrilled to be able to see her lover again, all night and every night. 

Camilla decided simply to wear her secretary dress that night; Candice lent her some light green underwear. For added props when she went onstage, Camilla got some glasses, a pen, and a notepad for when she danced to her first song, always in the role of the note-taking secretary and looking at her male oglers as if they were clones of Mr. Holland. She'd hoped he would come to see her, as he had promised just before she left the office, but he never showed. She could only imagine what his wife was doing to him that night. 

When she was nude for the third song of her first stage show that night, Camilla saw Candice crawl onstage to join her. Candice, also nude, wanted to celebrate having Camilla back stripping with her in a way that would be entertaining for everyone. The girls got into a 69 position with Camilla on top. The men watching went wild. 

"Hey, weren't they muff-diving here last week?" one man shouted. 

"Yeah, I remember," yelled another. "Whoo!" 

When the girls were licking each other, they'd positioned themselves to make sure their pussies were visible to as many people in the audience as they could. Candice put her index and long fingers in Camilla's vagina while licking her anus. 

"That's it!" shouted another man. "Jam your fingers up her cunt. Alright!"

"She's eating her butt!" screamed another man. "That is so hot!"

Candice's fingers tickled Camilla's G- and A-spots, while Camilla's tongue flickered against Candice's hard clitoris. Camilla slid her finger inside Candice's pussy and fingered her G-spot. Both girls were moaning audibly enough to compete with both the music and the cheers of the audience. Soon Candice came, and Camilla greedily lapped it all up.

Then Camilla gushed all over Candice's face, soaking it. As she licked the come off her lips, the men yelled wildly. The song ended, the girls received yet another standing ovation, and they took a bow before leaving the stage. 

********************

On Tuesday morning at 11:10, Camilla went into the office to get her things out of her desk and say good-bye to Mr. Holland. The hatred of her co-workers there was so palpable that she didn't even want to do a day's work. She'd hoped to see at least his appreciative face when she got there, but he wasn't in. 

She left his office and went over to the cubicles, confronting all the gossips. "Where is Mr. Holland?" she asked.

A man in his late twenties walked up and said in a smart-ass tone, "Oh, dear, she misses him already."

"Maybe you shouldn't provoke her, Tom," Sue said nervously.

"Why not?" Tom asked. "Suck my cock instead, bitch. It's your fault he's in hospital with a broken leg. When his wife heard your sucking skills by the door of his office yesterday, she--"

Camilla psychically got his cock and balls in a tight death grip. He fell to the floor, writhing in pain; his balls felt as though sharp steal wires were wrapped around them. Her eyes were black again, and some of the hair in her done-up bun came loose. "Which hospital?" she demanded in that demon voice. 

"Toronto General Hospital," Sue said. "Don't hurt him."

"You shouldn't have let her hurt him," Camilla growled in reference to the Hollands. She released Tom, calmed down, and regained her breath. Sue and the others watched in horror as Camilla's eyes slowly changed back to blue. "And oh, Tom," she said in her normal voice. "I'd never suck your four and three-quarter inches." (This was an accurate measurement of Tom's dimensions, thanks to the insight of Nigrovum.) "I don't like small snacks." She then left for the hospital. 

*********************

Camilla hadn't worn only her secretary dress onstage at Club Ritz on Monday night; she'd gone through all the clothes in the change room and found a nurse's outfit, which she wore for her last few dances onstage. 

Since she was going to see Miles in the hospital, she decided to get that outfit to entertain him in during her visit. She also brought a large bag with her, in which she had a ghetto blaster, a sponge, a basin, and a tube of soap. 

When she got to the hospital and learned where his room was, she found a washroom near his room and changed into the nurse's outfit. She was glad to know it wasn't visiting hours, because she figured that would minimize the possibility of her visit being interrupted. To ensure the absolute impossibility of being disturbed, she used Nigrovum to distract the real hospital workers so they wouldn't come into the room and stop her; she visualized an energy barrier blocking the door to his room. 

When she went into his room and locked the door, she saw him lying on his bed with his right leg in a cast. "Oh, you poor man," she said.

"Camilla?" he asked. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"I'm your nursie," she said in her giggling 'Dolly' voice. "Do you like the outfit?" She turned around for him.

"Yeah," he said. "Very sexy."

"Thank you," she said. "I wore this a few times during my floor show at Club Ritz last night. I waited and waited for you to come; now I know why you didn't. What did she do to you?" She put her hands on his cast and focused on where the fracture was.

"She hit me with a baseball bat. She heard you giving me head yesterday; she was eavesdropping with Sue at my office door." 

"Those bitches. Please give me a few minutes of silence so I can concentrate." 

"What are you going to do?"

"Please, sir. Don't say a thing till I say you can, OK?"

"Alright."

The Nigrovum, with its millions of 'microscopic eyes' pinpointed the precise location of the fracture within a minute. Then she used her psychic power and visualization to imagine the cracks in his femur disappearing. His leg vibrated for a while as the cracks slowly sealed up, and the pain--just as slowly but surely--faded away. 

"The pain's gone," he said in amazement. "What is that power you have? Some kind of witchcraft?"

"I told you before, sir; I have friends in high places. I have a fun idea, now that you're feeling better. Lemme give you a sponge bath."

"Alright," he groaned in lust. She put a blanket under him to stop the bed from getting wet; then she filled the basin with water from the bathroom sink. "One thing; why give me a sponge bath if my leg's OK now? I could just take a shower."

"Well, you could do it the normal way, but while you're here, and I'm in my nursie outfit, why not have a little fun?" She stripped him naked (except for the cast, of course), then she began washing his chest. Her fingers tickled his nipples and belly button; looking in his eyes, she grinned and giggled lasciviously as she worked, and his lecherous smile was a mirror to hers. Then she washed his left leg and stared at his hardening penis while licking her lips. After that, she put her hands under him and washed his buttocks and anus; he moaned and grunted with pleasure at the sensation of her sensitive hands. The best, however, was saved for last: now she got her soapy hands on his rock-hard cock and balls. Sliding her sudsy hands up and down his long, thick shaft, she gave his genitals especially thorough attention. His erection flipped back and forth as her fingers rubbed the lather all over his scrotum. 

Finally, she rinsed and dried him off, keeping his penis hard, but not so hard as to make him come. 

Putting the sponge bath supplies to the side and getting the ghetto blaster out of the bag, she then said, "Now for the entertainment." 

She plugged in the ghetto blaster, set it to CD, and pressed play. Britney Spears's song 'Toxic' began to play, and she started dancing: shaking her tits, hips, and head to the beat, she would often turn around and push her behind out towards his face, and he'd give it a spank from time to time. Shortly before the end of the song, she took off the nurse's dress, letting it drop to the floor. With the nurse's hat still on, now she danced in white lace underwear to the Rihanna song 'SOS': halfway into the song, she removed her bra with a joyful wiggle of her breasts; three quarters into the song, she pulled down her panties and let them drop to her ankles. When the song ended, she'd taken off the nurse's hat and her high heels, leaving her now totally naked. 

He'd been jacking off the whole time, but not so much as to make him come. She got near him so he could fondle her tits; she took his erection in her hands and brought her mouth down to kiss the tip. She licked his shaft, then put it halfway inside her salivating mouth. Her fingers tickled his balls as her wet lips tightly embraced his hard cock. He ran his hands through her hair, which now, indeed, had even more wisps of black intermixing with the blonde; he moaned and grunted his thanks to her talented lips and tongue. 

She'd been standing by the right side of the bed as she was blowing him; she wanted him to come on her face, so when she felt him on the verge of ejaculating, she pulled his cock out of her mouth and licked the shaft just under the knob. He splashed his come in her left eye, on her nose, on her left cheek, and on her lips. The remaining come that dripped down his cock she wiped on the right side of her face. Then she raised her head so he could see his painting of it. He grinned, and she giggled. 

"You're too kind, Camilla," he sighed. 

"The pleasure's all mine, sir," she said. "So, when do you expect the bitch to be here? Visiting hours are supposed to start at 2 PM."

"Yeah," he said. "Knowing her, she'll be here right at that time, as soon as possible so she can tell me all her 'good reasons' for hitting me with a baseball bat. I'll be dreading that." He looked up at the clock on the wall by the door. "It's 1:54 now. You'd better go."

"I will, in a minute," Camilla said. "I'll need you to be quiet again for a few minutes, OK?"

"OK," he said.

She used Nigrovum to find Mrs. Holland. Though she planned to be violent again with her psychic powers, her wish to protect Mr. Holland made her feel completely assured she was using Nigrovum for good. Her body vibrated in a circle radiating outward, and again, it felt as though millions of infinitesimally small eyes were searching all over Toronto to find his wife. After a few minutes of intense concentration, Camilla psychically sensed the wife, enraged as usual, driving in a hurry to the hospital. Swelling with hatred for this horrible woman, Camilla used the Nigrovum to make one of Mrs. Holland's car tires suddenly blow, and the car spun out of control, crashing into another car. The cars exploded, killing everyone in both of them. 

Camilla cold feel Mrs. Holland die, and--aware of other deaths, but unconcerned with them--she was glad to have rid Miles of his awful wife forever. Camilla might not have felt so glad, however, to know that the other people killed were a young woman and her three-year-old twin daughters. 

Having finished her meditation, Camilla washed Miles's come off her face, put the nurse's outfit on again, and smiled. "What happened?" he asked. "What did you do?"

"Don't worry about it," she said. "You only need to know one thing; you're free." She then said goodbye to him and left the hospital. 

As she walked outside in search of a taxicab to drive her home, she looked at her hands. The sponge bath she'd given Miles had washed off some of her red nail polish, and she could see some of her nails completely uncovered; they were completely black. 



Camilla Ch. 060



For almost all of his existence, Father Don Josiah led a cloistered life. From his childhood days in St. Mary's all-boys Catholic school to his ordination as a priest, his devoutly religious mother ensured that women, for him, would be only respectable ladies and nuns. They would always be fully dressed: the only female nudes he'd ever see were statues, to be enjoyed aesthetically, not erotically.

His eyes would be as chaste as his loins--he would never look at the overt sexuality on the television, in the movies, or on the Internet (Mother would have none of these in her son's life!), and if he were ever to touch himself, it was to be with soap, to get clean...not dirty.

His mother despised the sin of the world: she hated how people had turned away from God. Don's adulterous father died when he was a boy, but his widowed mother had lost his father spiritually even earlier. His father's many affairs turned her to God for comfort, and his death bound her closer to her son, to nurture him in a way completely divorced from his father's ways.

For all of these reasons, women were mostly a mystery to Don. Because of this, it was inconceivable to him that the gentler sex could have in them a reservoir of passion at all comparable to that of the goatish male. He had always assumed that prostitutes, pornographic actresses and strippers did what they did slavishly, and with shame and regret: his traditionalist preconceptions were such that the very notion of a 'happy whore' or a nymphomaniac was non-existent...such women couldn't be content with, much less enjoy, a life in the sex industry.

This safe, Edenic cocoon that his mother had constructed for him was shaken that Sunday when he'd seen Camilla at Mass. The dark, salacious world in which Camilla thrived was opened even wider for him on Wednesday night when he walked through the front door of Club Ritz. Why did he, a devoutly religious priest, want to go to such a place? As he'd rationalized his intentions, he hoped to find a girl quickly and give her some money he'd saved to 'rescue' her from the degrading life she was forced to live. What he hadn't anticipated was that she would take his cash in exchange for lap-dances and 'rescue' him from his sexual confinement.

What's more, he absolutely refused to acknowledge in his conscious mind that his real reason for going to Club Ritz could have been to satisfy desires he'd kept in perfect, uninterrupted hibernation...that is, until Camilla had roused him from that sleep. Last Sunday, he'd been disappointed at not seeing her at Mass, though he'd never admit to himself that his reasons for missing her were at all sexual; he rationalized that he'd wished to save her soul, or if not her soul, then at least that of a local stripper.

So sure was he that he wouldn't be tempted to indulge in the spectacle of flesh the other lechers were enjoying, that he even wore his priest's collar, with no fear of embarrassment. What he didn't know was that she'd used Nigrovum to lure him to her striptease establishment, with the image of that rose she'd visualized touching him in Mass; indeed, that rose pulled him to Club Ritz like the star that had led the Magi to the baby Jesus.

It had been a boring, slow Wednesday night, and Camilla was sitting alone at a table waiting for a customer to show an interest in her. Desperate for a lover to distract her from her growing unnatural urges for Agape, Camilla--lacking Mr. Holland again--remembered that cute priest she'd seen two Sundays ago. She wanted him, so she'd focused all her mental energy and photographic memory to make a mental image of the priest she'd given a psychic hand-job to during Mass. Within a few minutes, she'd conjured up a vivid, detailed, and uncannily accurate mental picture of Father Josiah; then she visualized him willingly driving from his home to Club Ritz. Soon after, she could feel his presence coming nearer and nearer. Then she went out to a small room where the front door was, a relatively quiet area where she could chat on her cell-phone.

She called up Mr. Holland, and asked him if he was going to come over. He said he couldn't because hiss were occupying his time in preparations for his wife's funeral. He had to pretend he was mourning, and thus couldn't get away. Though she was disappointed to hear this, she felt encouraged by the approaching psychic presence of Father Josiah.

He opened the front door to the strip joint and saw her still chatting on her cell-phone. The muffled sound of Bruno Mars's 'It Will Rain' could be heard beyond the inner door leading inside the main area of the bar. Having a stripper there in that little room, with no one else around, was perfect for him: he didn't have to go inside the bar and risk being embarrassed in his priest's clothes. He just had to wait for her to finish her phone call so he could save her soul.

Though his eyes were fixed on her golden curly hair, beautiful blue eyes, ruby-red lips and everything above her shoulders, he couldn't help noticing--from the corners of his eyes, her S-like curves, pink underwear (which he thought was a bikini), pointy high heels, and everything below her shoulders. As lovely and exciting as she was to behold, he reminded himself: this was a living soul, not a sex object. This was one of God's suffering children, not one of man's pleasurable toys.

She saw him watching and waiting for her. He imagined how offended she'd be to see what must have seemed the leers of a lecherous priest; but he was surprised to see the smile on her face--she seemed pleased to no end. He had no way of knowing that Camilla had always wanted to seduce a man of the cloth...him in particular, and that his decision to come to Club Ritz had been more hers than his.

She briefly stopped talking to Mr. Holland on her phone, smiled at Father Josiah, and sweetly said, "Just a minute, Father," while caressing his cheek. He blushed and felt his penis getting erect; he focused all his will towards making himself go limp again, thinking of fat old ladies. It was working...then she finished her call.

She put her cell-phone in her purse and turned around to face Father Josiah. Wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down to be eye-level with her, and gently pressing her nose and forehead against his, she asked, "So, what can I do for you, Father?"

"I want to help you," he answered, trying desperately to ignore his again-hardening penis. Fat old ladies, fat old ladies, he thought.

"How about me helping you first?" she said, gently pulling him toward the door leading inside the main area of the bar.

"Please, I'm a man of God. I'm not interested in that," he said, pulling his money out of his pocket.

"Oh, I think you are," Camilla said, tickling his chin. "If not, why haven't you pulled away?"

"I...I have s-some money for you. Two thousand dollars to help you get out of here and start a new life."

"Oh, we can have a lot of fun for two-thousand," she purred, taking him into the bar.

He quickly put his hand on his collar so people wouldn't know he was a priest. She took him into a private room and they sat down, facing each other on the couches.

"My name is Camilla," she said, smiling and shaking his hand.

"I'm Father Don Josiah."

"Nice to meet you, Father Don Josiah. I remember seeing you at Mass two Sundays ago. Remember me? I remember getting you quite excited; I hope to do that again." She giggled lewdly.

"Please, I just want to talk to you. I want to help you leave this degrading life."

"Degrading? Father, you sound like one of those feminists I'll have to put up with at York. I had a high school drama teacher who was like that--Ms. Callahan, a real bitch. Oh, sorry, father. At my university I understand there will be a lot more women like her."

"You're a university student?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Lap-dancing is how I pay for my tuition and everything."

"But why would you choose to do this for money? Surely there are other, better jobs that an obviously intelligent girl like you could do."

"Sure there are; I tried being a secretary, which was fun for a while, but now I know I'd rather do this."

"Why?" He couldn't believe his ears.

"Because I'm an exhibitionist at heart, and stripping makes lots more money than working as a secretary. Besides, I think I look good naked; most people agree, if you'll forgive my immodesty. When this song is over, I'll show you just how good I look."

"Oh, please. I'll feel embarrassed. Please don't take your bathing suit off."

"It isn't a bathing suit, Father. It's my underwear; do you like it?" She stood up and turned around for him, pushing out her breasts and buttocks to draw his attention. He was torn between looking and not looking, between resisting temptation and not wanting to be rude by rejecting her beauty. She sat back down with her legs spread open.

He was stunned to think that she could so nonchalantly parade herself in her bra and panties in public. He couldn't believe she could be so content, even delighted, to display herself so indecently in front of so many panting men.

The song had finished, and a new one began. Camilla was ready to give Father Josiah his first strip-tease.

She started a slow, sinuous dance: her serpentine hips swayed from side to side. She put her hands in her hair ad pulled it up; her fingers slowly swam through her golden tresses, causing them to fall lock by lock back down onto her shoulders. While her undulating bust and buttocks drew his attention to the sweetmeats that were the glory of her anatomy, the real hypnotic focus for him was her blue eyes, which seemed to look through his, right into his heart. It was this clairvoyance of hers that aroused him most of all, but why it excited him was a total mystery. He could feel the red rose she was visualizing blooming inside his heart, firing a lust inside him that he'd never felt before...except during that Mass two Sundays ago. Her eyes were locked on his, not letting his wander away.

The look of longing in her watery eyes was something he'd naturally assumed to be an act, but their sensuousness was showing a genuine and enigmatic desire. This is what drew him to her: he wanted to help her, to give her what she needed; but his attraction stemmed from how she obviously wanted him to give her what she wanted.

While most strip-tease dancers just want their watchers' pocket cash, Camilla wanted him. Apart from the forbidden pleasure of debauching a devout priest, she simply found him physically attractive. He was in his early forties--so far as she could tell, and accurately so--and he had blond hair, eyes as blue as hers, and a slim, tall build. He spoke with a gentle baritone voice that she particularly liked, but it was how that voice expressed a sweetly naive clinging to virtue that especially excited her. The more he resisted her, the more she was drawn to him.

Another thing that especially affected Father Josiah was her inexplicable calm: he was fascinated by Camilla's subtle smile. It was a smile so slight that it was almost imperceptible visually, yet by its very subtlety it was paradoxically all the more powerful. How could she be so placid, doing such demeaning work? he wondered. In the background, he could hear the vulgar lyrics of a hip hop song, lyrics which spoke of women as nothing more than tramps; behind Camilla's sensual silhouette, he saw only darkness in their private room--a darkness as black as sin--yet this jocund young lady smiled with an almost Madonna-like serenity.

Incredibly to him, as she unclipped her brassiere and revealed her bouncing breasts, the smile stayed. As she shed and shimmied out of her panties, the smile was still there. How could she be so calm, now completely naked before him? Why didn't she feel as scandalized as he did?

"Do you like them, Father?" she asked.

"Your eyes? They're beautiful," he ever so evasively replied.

"Father, I didn't mean them," she said, giggling and moving forward to him. She cupped his face between her breasts and slid the soft, smooth flesh across his cheeks, brushing her nipples against his lips.

Of course, it was getting more and more difficult to ignore the erection that was pointing up in his pants. Her blithe calling him 'Father' also bothered him. She seemed to enjoy it: why? Did she have a spite against the Church? Was she trying to provoke anger in him as well as lust? Did the thought of his seemingly imminent fall from grace excite her, or merely amuse her?

After rubbing her breasts against his face a while longer, she got up and turned around. She opened her legs wide and bent over, blatantly displaying not only her vagina, but also, in all insouciance, her anus. Again, her exposing her secret places wasn't half as shocking for him as was the content look on her upside-down face, looking back at him from between her legs, happily, almost innocently curious to see his reaction.

He simply couldn't fathom how she could be so indifferent about showing off the dirtiest parts of her body--not just morally dirty but physically dirty. Hadn't she even the slightest qualms about allowing herself to be seen as more animal than human? Josiah had always assumed that when strippers posed like this that they would have a look of nervous regret in their eyes: if there was a smile, it was either on act or a cocaine high, a forced smile or a drug-induced one.

Yet Camilla was neither speeding nor sedated. If she was pretending to be sober, she was a brilliant actress, because her sobriety looked too natural to be feigned. Furthermore, he correctly sensed that she wasn't even acting.

To bring himself back to the more familiar, safer world of his original preconceptions, he tried to trick himself into thinking the face that looked back at him was frowning, troubled by her humiliation; but then he remembered that the slightly downward-curving mouth he saw came from an upside-down face. She was still smiling. She even tickled his chin, seeming to want to encourage him to come closer and get a better look.

Noticing his not looking at her pussy and asshole, she asked him, "Don't you like what you see, Father?"

"Oh, uh, no...I mean, yes...I mean, I don't want to objectify you," he stammered. "You should be treated like a lady, not like a whore."

"Father, I don't see it that way. You can look all you like. If you don't, I'll feel insulted. You don't want to be rude, do you?"

"No, I guess not," he said, reluctantly looking up from her face and gazing at her cunt and asshole. It was nearing impossible to resist getting excited from such prurient perfection.

"Good," she said, opening her pussy and asshole out wide. "Get a good look."

Conflict was pulsating throughout his body and mind: was his reason for looking merely a polite acquiescence, or was he turning into a lecher? He looked back at her upside-down face, but there he saw again those eyes whose seemingly pleased expression made him doubt not only his cherished beliefs about respectable women, but also his faith.

Indeed, her face seemed peaceful, in spite of her sinful behaviour. Wasn't there supposed to be no rest for the wicked? Hers seemed to be a peace which truly passed all understanding, and this bothered him. She was naked, this woman, and not ashamed.

Josiah never understood how Adam and Eve could have been sinless prior to the Fall, yet shamelessly naked. Was Camilla somehow unaware of good and evil, as the first man and woman had been before eating the forbidden fruit? Did she simply not know how wickedly she was behaving? That such a paradoxically sinful, yet sinless state could exist--especially in such a beautiful, desirable young woman--not only troubled, but also excited him.

And that was the most troubling thing of all.

She slowly brought her bottom down and sat on his lap; and there she started stimulating an area he most wanted to ignore. She put her arm behind her back and pulled her hair up as she slowly moved her back toward his chest. She pulled her hand away slowly and let her hair--in all its full, fragrant body--flop down on his face, tress by tress, as her back approached his chest. She put her right shoulder just under his chin and turned her head to the right to look in his eyes. Still grinding on his groin, she looked in his eyes with an expression that clearly commented on the pointy sensation she felt below. With that look in her eyes and that same, subtle smile, she didn't need to open her mouth to make that ocular commentary one of absolute lasciviousness. Father Josiah felt extremes of thrills and horror simultaneously: his loins loved what his heart abominated.

The song ended, and she got up to sit on the couch facing his. His five-minute ordeal of pleasure ended. The D.J. announced that there was a problem with the CD player, and he asked everyone to be patient as he fixed it. Camilla didn't put her clothes back on, as she was happy to continue displaying her garden of earthy delights to Father Josiah. She didn't even cover her torso with her arms and legs: she calmly allowed his eyes to roam all over her body, if only he'd let them.

Looking no lower than her shoulders, he vented his shame by saying, "I feel terrible."

"Father, I find that hard to believe, if you'll pardon the pun," she said.

"I just felt a pleasure no priest should ever enjoy," he said, almost sobbing. "What would my mother say?"

"Why do you feel so ashamed?"

"Is it that difficult to understand?" he asked almost sarcastically. "Do you know anything about Church teachings?"

"More than you think I do."

"Sex is a gift from God to be enjoyed within the context of marriage and family, not to be indulged in just for its own sake. And priests are supposed to be celibate."

"Where in the Bible does it say that a priest can't marry?" she asked. "Paul said celibacy was something only some people could conform to. The rest should marry, if they can't help themselves."

"The latter are the laity."

"Not necessarily. Protestant preachers can get married."

"Protestants abandoned the Catholic flock...the flock of the one true Church. That's why they're inundated with liberalism, and the Anglican Church is such a moral mess. I suppose you're one of them."

"No, I'm from a Catholic family. I just don't believe everything they say about God just because it came from the Pope. The Catholic Church is pretty messed up, too, remember?"

"Yes, we have our scandals, too," he admitted. "Priests sexually abusing boys, and so on. If we didn't have such a sexually charged society, there wouldn't be so much of that."

"If we put an end to the celibate priesthood, there'd be fewer priests raping boys," she said. The DJ announced the fixing of the CD player as the next song, which appropriately was AC/DC's 'Let's Get It Up', began.

She approached him and put his head between her cleavage; his forehead could feel her speeding heartbeat. Pushing her upper arms closer together, she made her breasts embrace his face; now his heartbeat was racing. He put his hands on her waist ostensibly to push her back, but soon they just rested there passively, almost pulling her closer.

Next, she slowly slid her chest down his torso, her bust leaving his face to be dragged down his chest and stomach to his petrified groin. After rubbing her breasts against his hard-on for several seconds, she got back on her chair and opened her legs wide to show her vulva: her arms were similarly opened out. She looked like a female version of Leonardo Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man; he imagined he was seeing that picture instead of her, in a desperate attempt to resist temptation. Naturally, it didn't work.




Camilla Ch. 060



Then she got up, turned around, opened her legs wide and bent over, just as unabashedly and revealingly as before. The positioning of her legs and obscuring of her upper body behind her stretched-open buttocks suggested to him to Greek letter Lambda, the L of the divine Logos: at least he tried to visualize this in order to cool off his lust. The problem with this second abortive attempt at a devout distraction was how, in the corner at the top point of those Lambda legs, at the bent-over ass, there was a lower-case Theta, the Th of Thalamos and Thanatos, breaking his concentration; the skin surrounding her pussy and asshole was the O of the Theta, and the line in theTheta's middle was her perineum between her holes, or her gooch, anyway.

Soon after that, she got on all fours on the floor, each limb stretched out in all directions, as far apart from each other as possible while still showing that thrillingTheta. Josiah tried to distract himself from it by remembering what he'd once learned about ancient Egyptian mythology. Nut, the goddess of the sky, was on all fours, her fingers and toes touching the four cardinal points, and her body twinkling with stars. If her left and right hands were, respectively, south and east, while her left and right feet were north and west respectively, then high in the northwest sky, a scintillating constellation called Theta was stimulating nuts of a different kind. Clearly, Josiah was losing this moral battle.

She then got up and sat on his lap again. Looking in his eyes with that same suggestive smile on her face, she asked him, "Why do you think my work is degrading, Father? I don't think of it that way." Her soft buttocks continued massaging his phallus, this time hardened with no need of Nigrovum's aid.

"Why don't you...think of it...as degrading?" he asked in sighs. "That's what...I don't understand." His pelvis gyrated in rhythm to her grinding.

"I see it...as art," she answered in moans, for her vulva was getting moist from the size of his cock. "I dance...on stage, as an actress, I am...my customers' perfect fantasies, and, in a way, I even...do architecture."

"How do...you do architecture?"

"I'm building...a tower...in your pants," she panted. "Touch me here, Father." She took his hand and put it on her pussy.

"No, no," he moaned.

"Have some fun," she sighed. "Give me pleasure."

"No. I've sinned...too much...already."

"But refusing me...would be rude," she insisted. "Besides, I think you...want to touch." Since she was already very excited, she only needed a few timid strokes of his fingers to make her come a flood all over the front of the couch. "Ah!" she squealed.

The song ended, and she got up and went back to her seat.

"Would you like another lap dance, Father?" she asked with that same sex-kitten smile.

"I don't think I have a choice," he said. "You've completely attached yourself to your prey, my pagan goddess."

"Thank you," she said with a giggle, and before the next song even began, she opened up her arms and legs to reassume that Vitruvian Man pose on her couch, her flower-like vulva once again on display. Encouraged by his acquiescence, she started working some Nigrovum on him to make him willing to take her to bed. As he looked at her flowery vulva, now with less inhibition than before, she visualized that red rose being thrown to him, hitting him on the chest. Sensing his weakening defences, she asked him, "Would you like to have sex with me tonight, Father?"

Suddenly, his virtue returned. "Oh, no, Camilla," he insisted. "As exciting as you are, I mustn't. Don't feel insulted; remember, I'm a priest. Please take my money and leave this horrible job. You're obviously bright, and you should do something worthier of your talents."

"Father, I see no reason to stop stripping until I've finished my studies and gotten my doctorate in English literature."

"You want to be a professor of English literature? That's delightful, Camilla."

"That's what my daddy does," she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "I love him and admire him so much, Father."

"If you want to emulate him, do it now; use your mind to make money, not your body."

"Why not use my body? Men like it. I don't see anything wrong with my public nudity. Until you can teach me the real difference between decency and indecency, I'm gonna be like Eve before the Fall, naked and full of God's grace."

"God's grace comes from accepting Jesus as our Saviour; it's an irresistible grace."

"How is it irresistible?" she asked. "So many church-goers continue to fall."

"That's true," he said. "But God has assured the Elect of salvation, so those who have accepted his grace will come back to the Church after straying, as I hope to do after tonight."

"The Elect? Isn't that part of predestination? That's so unfair, to condemn some people to Hell before they're even born, and to save others the same way."

"Some of the things God does defy human understanding, Camilla."

"They defy logic, too. God isn't supposed to be a respecter of persons; why does he choose to save some and screw others, at the drop of a dime? It sounds more like the thinking of a corrupt Church than the will of God."

He was totally taken aback by her answers to his defence of the Christian faith. Was the Church Josiah held so dear really just another corrupt den of iniquity, no better than Club Ritz? Was this strip-tease establishment that she frolicked in naked, this garden of earthly delights, an Eden unto itself? And was he, in his urging that she know right from wrong by following Church teaching, an interloping serpent, goading her to eat the fruit of dogma?

All of these things troubled Josiah even more than his naturally human sexual feelings for her, which by the end of the evening--and two thousand dollars later--he was fully indulging in.

At about eleven o'clock at night, he got up and paid her, ready to go home and knowing he'd not got an inch closer to persuading her to quit her stripping job. They left the private room, him again covering his priest's collar and her naked and carefree.

"Are you sure you don't want to have sex tonight, Father?" she asked as he approached the front door.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said. "Sorry, Camilla, but I mustn't sin any more tonight. Good night, and thank you for a...stimulating evening."

"My pleasure," she said. As she watched him leave, she reassured herself that he'd be back on future nights, and she'd weaken him enough to get him in bed then. That rose she'd visualized touching his heart would ensure his return. Still, she was depressed at not having a lover.

The DJ told all the strippers to get onstage and advertise themselves before the customers; Camilla and Candice stood beside each other at the front of the stage, with all the other girls behind and beside them.

Camilla saw M. Larre come into the bar with a few friends of his. Not a second had passed by after Camilla's seeing him approach but she already had her panties pulled down and she was unclipping her bra.

"Who are you getting naked for, Camil?" Candice asked.

"Him," she said of the smiling man nearing the stage with his friends. "He's inviting me to a party on Friday night. I think he'll let you come, too."

"Sounds like fun," Candice said.

When M. Larre saw Camilla, her bra had come off and she was wiggling her large breasts, grinning with joie de vivre at the display of her frontal nudity.

He reached the tip rail, just before where she was standing, and looked up at her glorious body. "Camilla," he said. "You're even lovelier than I'd imagined you'd be."

"Thank you, M. Larre," Camilla said, giggling and turning around. She spread her legs open and bent over, showing her pussy and asshole. "Do you remember this hole?"

"I remember one of them," he said. "And I'm pleased to see the other one."

Giggling again, she asked, "You want some lap-dances?" She got off the stage.

"I want sex, actually," he said in her ear as they walked toward the private rooms. "How much for a straight lay?"

"That depends," she said.

"On what?"

"How much pleasure you give me." They walked into a room, and she closed the door as he went to the couch. She went over and sat on his lap. "If you make me come, it's free; but if I get no pleasure, you pay the full $200 for the hour. Sorry in advance if that hurts your ego."

"Well, I'll have to try my best to turn you on, then."

"Yeah, it's in your best interests; but it shouldn't be too difficult to make me come. I get horny real easily: remember the restaurant in Montreal?" She started taking off her high heels.

"Oh, no," he said. "Don't take them off; I like them."

"OK," she said, leaving them on. She got up, got on the bed on all fours and stretched her legs out so both her pussy and asshole were showing.

He got up, got on the bed behind her, and unzipped and pulled down his pants and underwear. "That's a pretty asshole you have, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Thank you," she said, grinning and giggling as she looked back at him. "Anal is $300 for an hour."

"I'll consider that later," he said, pointing his erection at her cunt. He pushed the tip of his cock against her wet vaginal opening.

Finally, she thought; I'm getting some cock. Her sighs ascended in pitch with a passionate crescendo as he slid his cock inside. When he'd pushed all the way in, she squealed loudly. After five thrusts of his cock going in and out of her already thoroughly lubricated cunt, she came all over his cock and balls.

"M...Larre," she said in staccato squeals with every shove of his cock. "This is...for...free. Ah!"

"Al...rea...dy?" He was fingering her anal orifice.

"Yeah...Oh, my...God! Ah!" She came again.

"My...pants and...underwear...are getting...soaked. Unh!"

"Wanna fuck...my ass? Oh!"

"Yeah, OK," he said, then pulled his cock out of her pussy. "Oh, shit; I forgot...you are...a gusher. My fuckin' pants!"

"Sorry," she said, getting her anal lube out of her purse and giving it to him. "I'll clean 'em up for you, as best I can."

"Well, they're black, and it's dark here, and outside," he said, lubing his cock. "Maybe no one will notice the stains." He soaked his finger in lube, then gently slid it in her ass. "Fucking you...makes it all...worth it." After thoroughly smearing lube all over her rectal walls and anal opening, he aimed his cock at her asshole. "Ready?"

"And eager," she said, looking back at him with 'Welcome, my back-door man' in her eyes.

He pushed his knob against her opening anus, that brown, wrinkled, lubed hole taking him in like lips sucking on a piece of rock candy. He fucked her ass with aggressive thrusts, sometimes worrying that he was hurting her, but when he noticed her screams were those of pleasure, not of pain, he went back to concentrate on his pumping. She loved how deeply his cock was going inside her; with every new ass-fuck, she loved anal sex all the more. He loved how tight her pretty, welcoming asshole was.

"I'm gonna come," he groaned. "Where should...I blow?"

"On...my...ass?" she suggested.

"OK," he sighed, then pulled his cock out and aimed it over her buttocks. He shot out five blasts, hitting her anal cleft, her left buttock twice, her right buttock, and down by her gluteal sulcus. She took his cock in her hand and wiped the remaining come on her right hip. "That was amazing. How much?"

"Just give me $100," she said. "I enjoyed it, though I didn't come that time." He paid her, and she cleaned his pants. "Gee, most of my come got on your underwear; only a little is on your pants. You can't wear that underwear, though: it's soaked. We don't have any men's underwear here, of course--just panties."

"Actually, I kind of have a thing for panties," he said.

"Do you want to wear some panties of mine?" she asked.

"I'd love to."

"OK. I'll go get some. Be right back." She left to get them. When she came back, Candice came in with her. Giving him the panties, she said, "M. Larre, this is Candice, my girlfriend. She says she's interested in coming to the party."

"Great," he said, blushing as he put the panties on. "I hope you're open-minded, Candice."

"I am open-minded enough to be cool with you wearing Camilla's underwear, M. Larre," Candice said. "Is that a fetish of yours?"

"Yeah, it is, actually," he said, putting his pants on. "You're not grossed out by that?"

"Not when you have as appetizing a cock as the one I just saw," Candice said. "Will there be drugs at the party?"

"Do you like speedball?" he asked.

"I've never tried it before," Candice said. "But I'm eager to."

Camilla could only frown at that answer.



Camilla Ch. 061



On Thursday night at about 8:30, Miles Holland went into Club Ritz and saw Camilla crawling around naked onstage; as soon as she saw him standing by the tip rail, she turned around so her ass was pointing at his face. Looking back at him with her agape eyes and puckered lips asking him if he liked what he saw, she spread her buttocks open wide so he could see her gaping pussy and dirty asshole.

The song soon finished, and she got offstage, taking only her purse. The naked girl took her former boss into a private room; he sat on one of the couches, and she sat on his lap.

"How are you, Mr. Holland?" she asked.

"Oh, pretty damn good, for a widower," he said.

"You should be feeling great, now that the bitch is gone forever, sir."

"Please, Camilla: call me Miles. I'm not your boss anymore."

"But I like calling you sir; you're my lord and master." She giggled and tickled him under the chin.

"What have I done to deserve such honour?"

"You suffered beatings and humiliation from a nasty, domineering woman, when she should have loved you," Camilla explained. "My deference to you will compensate for that. Y'know, when I saw just how nasty she could be, for the first time in my life I was thinking really violent thoughts. She reminded me of my late mother."

Miles was confused. "I-I don't follow you," he said.

"I hated my mother!" Camilla growled.

"I see," he said. Oh dear, a girl with issues, he thought.

"Want a blow job?" she asked, unzipping his fly.

"Oh, yeah," he grunted as she pulled his hardening cock out of his pants and knelt between his legs.

She masturbated him briefly, then brought her lips to the tip of his dick. Looking up in his eyes with the smile of a happy whore, she said, "Anything for you, my lord and master," and started kissing and licking his dick-hole.

"Oh!" he moaned as her wet lips wrapped around his knob. It slid in her mouth half-way, then he said, "Let's do a 69, OK? I want your pretty brown asshole in my face."

She pulled his cock out of her mouth with a jerk and a popping sound, then said, "Yes, sir. Let's get on the bed." They went over, he lay on the bed on his back, and she got on top, on all fours. She'd spread her legs out and pushed her ass out at his face. He propped his head up with a pillow so her asshole--only perfunctorily wiped after a recent crapping--was millimetres from his lips and tongue. "As you can smell, sir, I'm all stinky. I pooped a half hour ago."

"Oh, yeah," the coprophiliac moaned as he gluttonously inhaled the fresh faecal odour. "Wonderful: Chanel Number Two." She giggled, and he started licking her asshole.

Oh well, she thought as she put his cock back in her mouth; if he gets sick from any germs in my butt, I'll use the psychic powers of Nigrovum to make him better. He slid his finger inside her vagina and rubbed it against her G-spot. Her sighs quickly changed into squeals. Her hand shook his balls as her salivating mouth went up and down on his hard cock.

He opened her asshole and slid his tongue in about half an inch. His index and long fingers probed deep inside her soaking cunt, gently poking her A-spot. She wrapped her upper lip tightly around his bulging corpus spongiosum. Both of them were moaning loudly, at ascending pitches about an octave apart from each other. Sensing his imminent ejaculation as well as hers, she took his cock out of her mouth and licked his dick-hole while jerking him off. Soon after that, they came deluges on each other's faces almost simultaneously. She giggled as she licked his come off her lips. He used his fingers to direct every drop of her come towards his mouth so he could eat it. She turned around so he could see his come still dripping off her face.

After several minutes of panting and catching their breath, he asked, "How much...for the b-job?"

"Nothing, of course," she said. "It was...as good for me...as it was good...for you."

*******************

Having satisfied her urges for the night, Camilla went home early. In her bedroom, she turned on her lap-top and checked her e-mail. Bob would arrive in Toronto on Friday afternoon; including the strip joint's address in her reply, she told him to meet her in Club Ritz on Saturday night. She also suggested they do a photo shoot on Sunday.

She then read an e-mail she got from Dr. Singh, in which he told her more about what he'd discovered about Nigrovum. All the grass and other plant life in Vancouver and the surrounding area is blanketed with Nigrovum, he'd written. Analysis of it indicates that it has been here for at least three or four years. Nothing seems to kill it: neither changes in weather nor those of temperature. Not even uprooting the grass ends its life: in fact, the uprooted or snow-covered grass stays alive longer thanks to Nigrovum. Those microscopic black 'eggs' also multiply rapidly.

Camilla thought back to those days when she'd masturbated to orgasm in parks, much to the lecherous enjoyment of onlookers. She remembered when, as a sixteen-year-old virgin, she hated having a hymen, and wished it was gone. After having masturbated, come, and peed on the grass several times, and having felt the wet grass tickle her genitals, she later noticed her hymen had shrunk, or perhaps melted to a shorter length, the remainder hidden inside her vagina. Small wonder Wayne was surprised at her hymen's anomalous shortness when he deflowered her. She'd been wishing it away.

Dr. Singh's e-mail continued. I theorize that Nigrovum came to earth from outer space, pushed here by the solar wind, he wrote. I believe each microscopic black 'egg' is an extremely intelligent, technologically advanced alien life form, though of course I can't prove it. My colleagues don't believe me; they think Nigrovum is just a microscopic earthly life form we hadn't discovered till now. Still, I know of no other life form on this earth that can be compared to Nigrovum; it fits nowhere in evolution. I insist they are infinitesimally small aliens: who says aliens have to look like anthropomorphic insects or lizards, coming to earth in flying saucers, as in those B science fiction movies? They probably came down to earth from the sky in the rain, then settled on the vegetation, since it was living. Any kind of moisture seems to be what they travel in.

They passed from the grass into your vagina, and therefrom into your bloodstream, by traveling through your come and piss when you soaked the grass with your emissions. You say you enjoyed the way the grass tickled your vulva: since you were in a state of arousal and lubrication, the Nigrovum could have passed from the blades of grass into our body even before you'd ejaculated or urinated; when those latter emissions saturated the grass, even more Nigrovum, much more, must have entered your body. This is why you are so powerful psychically--you probably have millions of them swimming and multiplying in your blood right now; and they seem to have a technology that makes smart-phones seem like smoke signals.

Use your psychic powers wisely, Camilla. Be responsible with it: don't let fear or desire influence your judgement; don't be selfish with it, and don't use it to harm anyone--even those you don't like or think are bad people. Those lovers of yours who died, particularly Mr. Baker and Mr. Leroy, seem to have been consumed with maddening passions. Their corpses' eyes, hair, fingernails, and toenails are all as black as pitch, and their skin is ghostly white even by a corpse's standards. You and Candice must be careful with Nigrovum: it can be a powerful friend, or a deadly enemy.

I recommend pursuing spirituality. As a practicing Hindu, I feel my sense of enlightenment and peace of mind accelerating thanks to Nigrovum. Perhaps Nigrovum, with its clinging to life, is the next avatar of Vishnu. Who knows? Go to church; pray to God, and focus on love--de-emphasize the sex. I fear that your promiscuity may be spiralling out of control, and Nigrovum will only precipitate that spiralling. Nigrovum seems to magnify our emotions, so feel good feelings, and think good thoughts...not bad ones.

She told him in her reply not to worry. She was using Nigrovum only for good; after all, she'd protected and freed a man from his abusive wife, didn't she? Of course, she never mentioned using Nigrovum to kill Mrs. Holland...

She then thought about the people whose lives she could have saved with Nigrovum, but regrettably didn't. Poor Calina and Li-ping: if only Camilla and Candice had used their psychic powers on those masked men sooner. A month ago, when the police had found Calina's and Li-ping's bodies, and it was discovered that a bullet had been put in each girl's head, and that their heads and limbs had been hacked off to facilitate their disposal, Camilla threw up on hearing the news. From now on, Camilla would be resolute in using Nigrovum's psychic gifts to kill anyone she thought would be a danger to whomever she cared for. Though Carrie hadn't yet proven herself a danger, Camilla would be watching...

********************

Around midnight, Camilla and Agape were watching a DVD of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. They were also drinking and smoking joints. During the scene when Jack was kissing the naked woman in the bathroom, Camilla started getting excited.  

"Jack Nicholson was so hot back then," she said after puffing on a joint and passing it to her father. "So much talent and intensity in his acting; in this movie, he's just the right age for my tastes. I wish that was me, nude and kissing him. I have a better body than that skinny girl, anyway. Put me in a time machine and send me back to 1980, and I would totally fuck Jack. Kubrick, too: I don't care if he was fat then; smart is sexy, he was a genius filmmaker, and I would suck him--"

"Camilla, I'm really not interested," Agape said, blushing at his daughter's bold tongue.

"Oh, sorry, Daddy," she said, now blushing herself. At least I'm not thinking about you that way, Daddy, she thought.

********************

Two hours later, she was in bed and dreaming about the movie.

Sitting at a table, she saw Scatman Crothers talking to her as if she were little Danny. "I can remember when I was a little boy," he said to her. "My grandmother and I could hold conversations entirely without ever opening our mouths." Camilla briefly looked down at her ice cream, then heard Dr. Singh's voice instead of that of Crothers. "She called it 'Nigrovum'." She looked up and saw Singh's face.

Then she saw herself riding on the trike Danny was on when he rode through all the halls of the Overlook Hotel. She didn't see the Overlook's interior, though: no North American aboriginal art or any of the set designs used in the movie were there. Instead, she saw the halls and room of that mansion by Grouse Mountain, but with one significant difference--on the wallpaper and the carpets, she saw patterns of small black eggs everywhere. Sometimes the colour of the background was different--sometimes white, sometimes yellow, sometimes brown, sometimes red--but always she saw those little black egg patterns. On the carpets, the background colour was always green, but the little black egg pattern was never missing.

As she was going down a hallway with bedrooms on either side, she went around a corner and saw Calina and Li-ping, both naked, about ten feet from her. A loud gong crash was heard, from Penderecki's De Natura Sonoris No. 1, as soon as Camilla saw them. She stopped pedalling and stared at them, frightened. Calina's hair (including her pubes), normally brown, was now as black as that of the Asian standing beside her, and her eyes were also equally black. The finger- and toenails of both girls were black, too. The girls' skin was as ghostly white as their hair was black. They said, "Come make love with us, Camilla." Then what Camilla saw suddenly changed to a vision of the girls lying dead on the floor, bloody, with bullet holes in their foreheads, and mutilated, just as the police had found them. Then it switched back to the girls naked and 'alive': they said, "Come make love with us." Back to the bloody, dismembered bodies, then again back to them naked and standing: "Forever..."; bloody and mutilated, then back to 'living', "and ever..."; bloody and mutilated again, then 'living', "and ever...". Penderecki's dissonant music continued to be heard.

Next, Jack Nicholson came into the bathroom where, instead of seeing light green paint on the walls, the Nigrovum pattern was everywhere, with a yellow background for the walls and green one for the carpet. Penderecki's The Awakening of Jacob could be heard as he slowly approached the bathtub, where Camilla arose and pulled the shower curtain aside to reveal her naked body. Jack grinned lustfully. She slowly got out of the bathtub and walked over to him.

"I've always admired you, Mr. Nicholson," she said, putting her hands on his chest. "Does my body please you?"

"Yes," he said, moving his hands over to her hips.

"Would you like to enjoy me?" she asked.

They embraced and kissed. He looked in the mirror, and instead of seeing her as she originally looked, now her skin was ghostly pale (though still attractive), and her hair, eyes, fingernails, and toenails were all black. He let go of her and backed up a bit, shocked at what he saw. Giggling almost insanely at his reaction, she slowly walked towards him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Getting over his initial shock, he said, "Hey, you're still easy on the eye...in a Goth girl sort of way. What the hell: let's fuck."

They left the bathroom and went to the bed. He got on first, lying on his back; she got on top of him in the cowgirl position. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his fully-erect cock; she took it and aimed her moist pussy over it. As she came down on his cock and it slowly slid inside her, she sighed and squealed. As she rode on his cock, he enjoyed watching her tits bounce up and down, and he started grabbing them aggressively. His cock was so huge in her pussy that she was already coming; but it also hurt a bit, like Wayne's cock when he popped her cherry. Looking down on her lover, she'd see Jack; then she'd look up briefly and look down again, seeing Wayne instead. Then she'd look up and down again, and see Jack; then up and down, seeing Wayne again. Their faces continued to alternate like this throughout the fuck. Though the faces alternated, the cock's size--as well as the pleasure and pain it simultaneously caused--was a constant. Come mixed with blood started pouring out of her pussy and onto her lover's thighs.

As the fucking continued, she saw a vision of the elevator scene from the movie: blood came pouring out of the elevator in a deluge. Then she saw herself on top of Jack again, still fucking, coming, and bleeding. The vision of the elevator scene came back, but instead of seeing blood pouring out, she saw her come splashing all over the lobby. Then she saw herself on top of Jack again; about to come, he pulled his cock out of her. She lay on her back on the bed, and he got up on his knees, jerking off briefly and raining come all over her tits.

They got off the bed and went back into the bathroom. He got into the bathtub, still with his clothes on.

"Do you want to shower with me?" she asked him.

"In a way," he said, lying on his back in the tub. "I want a golden shower."

"I hate to piss on a man I admire so much," she said while getting in the bathtub and squatting over his chest. "But if it pleases you, I'll do it." She started pissing. He grinned and groaned as the piss sprayed all over his chest, drops of yellow bouncing off and hitting him in the face and arms. Now she saw the elevator scene with her piss coming out of the elevator and flooding the lobby, pushing the chairs around. As she continued pissing, she saw Mr. Hanson's face being splashed on with her piss, instead of Jack's. Then she saw Jack's face again. She squeezed out her last few drops of piss, and they got out of the bathtub. "I have to poop," she said.

"Great," Jack the coprophiliac said. "I wanna watch."

She sat on the toilet and he stood in front of her, looking down between her wide-open legs. She squeezed out her first turd with a soft groan, and he delighted in hearing it plop in the toilet water. She looked down between her legs and saw more turds fall out of her ass and into the water. Hearing Mr. Leroy's voice say, "I love hearing your pretty asshole in action," she looked up and saw the face of her deceased former French teacher. Then she saw the elevator scene again, with her shit pouring out in an avalanche into the lobby, pushing the chairs around. Then she saw Jack looking down and watching her finish her shit.

Next, Camilla was walking through the halls of the Satanists' mansion as if it were the Overlook Hotel during the climax of the movie; she was holding a knife like terrified Shelley Duvall. Nigrovum patterns were everywhere on the walls and floor, with red and green backgrounds respectively on the former and the latter. Penderecki's Utrenja II: Ewangelia could be heard. She went by one bedroom and saw a masked man about to perform fellatio on a man in a bear suit, similar to a scene in the movie; turning around, she saw another masked man, though like the first masked man, his mask seemed to be his real face--mask and skin were merged together. His head was bloodied: he looked like one of the men Clarence had hit with the baseball bat when they were trying to escape the mansion that night over a month ago. The masked man held up a glass of liquor and said, "Great party, isn't it?"

Finally, she came to the area where Jack had been typing. Holding a baseball bat as Duvall did, she approached the typewriter slowly, and looked at the typing on the paper. This is what she saw:

'All sex and no love makes Camilla a bad girl.

All sex and nolove make Camilla a bad girl

All sex and no love makes Camilla a bad girl.

Allsex and no love makes Carmilla a bad girl.

All sex and no love makes Camilla a bad girl.

All sex and no love make Camila a bad girl.'

etc.

She thumbed through the papers on the table beside the typewriter, reading the same sentence typed over and over again (often with similar typos). It didn't frighten her for the same reason Shelley Duvall was frightened in the movie; it reminded her of Mr. Baker's suicide note, and of the guilt it provoked in her when she read of how her promiscuity had broken his lonely heart.

As she kept flipping through the papers, hoping to see something different in the writing, Jack was slowly coming up behind her.

"How do you like it?" said the voice of Mr. Baker, whom she saw after quickly turning around and screaming.

***********************

Camilla woke up with a fright. She felt pain in her vagina; her photographic memory told her it was the exact same pain she'd felt when Wayne had deflowered her. She pulled the blankets aside and looked between her wide-open legs. A mixture of come and blood had stained the sheets.



Camilla Ch. 062



It was a wild Friday night party, where M. Larre took Camilla, Candice, and a few other Club Ritz strippers. On the first floor of the big house of the party's wealthy host, people were drinking, dancing, and socializing in the usual tame manner; but on the third floor, orgiastic sex and gang-bangs were in every room, where the moans and screams of pleasure were out of earshot for the first floor guests, rather strait-laced in comparison to the satyrs upstairs. 

Everyone in the room Camilla and Candice were in was naked. The girls had only their high heels on, since Larre liked them that way. Camilla, lying on her back on the floor, had M. Larre's cock in her mouth, and two of his friends had their cocks in her pussy and ass. Two more of M. Larre's friends, standing, held naked Candice up and--one man facing her and the other behind her--they were giving her anal and vaginal sex simultaneously. She was kissing the man facing her, and masturbating a third man standing to her right. This third man was fondling her tits as she jerked him off. 

The men were paying the girls handsomely for their sexual services, and the girls promised to receive bukkake; they would use Nigrovum not only to sense when the men were about to come, but also to regulate the men's arousal so they'd all come more or less at the same time. They ensured that the men would stay hard without achieving orgasm until the girls had orgasmed first. Camilla had already come twice: the man under her, fucking her ass, had his lap covered in her cooze. She was greedy--she wanted to come at least one more time before she'd allow her men to come; Candice hadn't come yet, either, but she was getting there.

Camilla massaged Larre's ass as his cock went in and out of her mouth; she also fingered his anus. The man in her ass was squeezing her tits, and the man fucking her pussy was stroking her legs and fetishing her gold-coloured high heels. The man in her cunt was moving his cock in and out most expertly: her G- and A-spots were tingling with delight. She squealed higher and higher as her third orgasm was quickly approaching. 

Candice was also about to come: she enjoyed being picked up by her two muscular lovers. She was screaming louder and louder, and she and Camilla came one after the other in immediate succession. Now that they'd had their fun, they decided it was time to let the boys have theirs. The girls used Nigrovum to bring their men close to coming. Candice yelled out, "It's gonna rain!" (This was the signal they all agreed on to get ready for bukkake.)

Candice's lovers gently put her down on the floor, and she was kneeling and ready. The man fucking Camilla's pussy pulled out and got off her; she got the other men's cocks out of her ass and mouth, rolled off her ass-fucker, and knelt for her men. The men stood in circles around each girl, who each jerked off two men while the third in each circle jerked himself off to ejaculation.

Camilla got sprayed in her ears, her right eye, on both cheeks, and on her nose and lips. Candice also got come in her ears and on her cheeks, as well as on her nose, in her left eye, and on her chin. Come dripped off the girls' faces and onto their breasts. They took the men's cocks, still dripping with residual come, and gently rubbed the sensitive dick-holes on any skin on their faces not yet wet with come. 

Everyone rested a while, then the men got dressed. The girls let the come continue to drip off their faces a while longer for the men's viewing pleasure; then they went into the bathroom to wash their faces while the men prepared some cocaine and heroin for speedball. The girls went into the shower, washed the come off each other's tits and vulvas, and cleaned out other's anuses, too. They were kissing and moaning the whole time. After coming, they cleaned each other's pussies again. 

The girls came out of the bathroom, and the drug was ready to be snorted. The girls, still naked except for their high heels, sat beside each other at a table, ready to try it, though Camilla was scared.

"C'mon, Camilla, let's get high," Candice said in reaction to her hesitation.

"I dunno about this, Candice," Camilla said. "Maybe we shouldn't."

Candice leaned over to her friend and whispered, "Use Nigrovum to bring yourself back to normal if your body loses control; that's what I do. Just imagine yourself healthy, and Nigrovum will do the rest. Trust me."

"I'm still not sure," Camilla said.

"Camilla, you'll feel like you're tit-fuck--," M. Larre began to say, then realized how absurd that would sound saying it to a girl. "Uh, like an angel's licking your pussy...I guess. Don't worry: we made sure not too much heroin is in the mix."

"Alright, I'll try it," Camilla said, more interested in giving Nigrovum a hard test than in actually getting high. Nigrovum licking my pussy? she thought; sounds kinda hot. Would those things swimming around in her blood, those tiny ovoid aliens--as Dr. Singh thought they were--save her life if she was in trouble? 

Candice had already snorted hers, and reacted with relish at the rush she was feeling. Curious, Camilla now snorted: like Candice, she felt an incredible 30-second rush, an amazingly intense high. Candice was loving it, and knew she'd want more, as soon as possible. The girls' hearts didn't seem to know whether to speed up or slow down. Then, after the cocaine aspect of the high wore off, the girls' heart-rates and breathing made a definite decision to slow down...right down, almost, it seemed, to a halt. 

Candice, who was used to such intense highs and more adept at using Nigrovum to guide her way safely through the high, just sat in her chair and relaxed--she even seemed to be at peace. Camilla, on the other hand, was starting to feel confused: she couldn't see clearly, and she was getting a little too drowsy. In her confusion, she forgot to use Nigrovum to get her out of it. M. Larre, watching Camilla's reaction to the drug, could see the growing paranoia in her eyes. Also, she seemed almost to have completely stopped breathing. Knowing there was at least one doctor on the first floor, he rushed downstairs to get him.

Meanwhile, Camilla started seeing things: to call them drug-induced hallucinations would seem too simplistic; they seemed more like Nigrovum-induced visions. She saw Mr. Baker in front of her. He taunted her with the typed sentence from her Shining dream the night before. She heard him repeatedly say, "All sex and no love makes Camilla a bad girl." 

Then she saw Wayne, who said, "Why'd you have to finger yourself out on the grass in parks? You gave me the Nigrovum when I popped your cherry, and it drove me mad and killed me. Not even condoms could protect me."

Then she saw Mr. Hanson, lying naked under her in the bathtub in his house, as when they'd had sex that weekend a month and a half ago. He said, "Piss on my ghost, O goddess."

In her growing agitation, she wondered, Did Mr. Hanson die, too? 

Larre and the doctor he knew came into the room. "Here she is, Dr. Davis," Larre said. "Oh, shit: I forgot to cover the girls up." Well, he thought, maybe the doctor will enjoy seeing his naked patient. 

Indeed, Dr. Davis was aroused by the nudity he saw, but he tried to ignore it and be professional in his attitude. "You said one girl was in trouble: both of them seemed pretty knocker-uh, knocked out," Davis said, trying not to look at the girls' magnificent tits. 

"Yeah," Larre replied. "Well, Candice seems to be responding better to the speedball than Camilla here. I'd better get some blankets to cover them u-"

"Just a minute," Davis said, not even consciously aware that he wanted the girls to stay naked. "I need to know a few things first. Did you or your friends over there give the girls the speedball?"

"No," Larre said. "The girls brought it here themselves."

Lyin' bastard, Candice thought, being too wiped out to speak up. Hope the doc's getting a good eyeful. 

Dr. Davis crouched before Camilla and looked up close at her face. Her eyes were closed. Always remembering his wife and family, he never allowed himself to look below her shoulders, though he certainly wanted to. "Camilla," he said, "can you open your eyes for me?"

She slowly opened them, trying with difficulty to focus on the face in front of her. Please be handsome, she thought, I want a handsome doctor to see me naked. Using Nigrovum to help her focus, she soon got a clear look at him, and knew that her hopes had been realized. He was a good-looking man in his forties, with brown hair and brown eyes. He opened her mouth and looked inside. I have another hole you can look inside, she thought. 

"She didn't have any other drugs, did she?" Davis asked Larre. 

"No, she was clean and sober when she and her friend came here," Larre said. "We each had a glass of wine, that's all. Though Candice may have smoked some grass before she came; I could smell it on her breath." 

"And Candice is the one doing OK," the doctor said as he looked at her with surprise. "I guess she's the stronger one, or the one more used to drugs. Anyway, where was I?" He looked back at Camilla. "Can you hear me, Camilla? Move your head if you can." 

Looking at him, Camilla moved her head slightly. It took all her strength to do so. 

It took all of Dr. Davis' strength, due to the strength of the erection in his pants, to control himself and remain focused on just doing his job. All that lovely nakedness, and he couldn't even glance at it! 

Camilla now tried to use Nigrovum to make herself feel better. She visualized herself perfectly clean and sober, with a regular heartbeat and normal breathing. As she continued with this visualization, the doctor got up and faced M. Larre. 

"Do you think she should be taken to a hospital?" Larre asked. "Is the hospital you work in near here?"

"Oh, I don't work at a hospital," the doctor said. "I work in a clinic, which is quite close to here; but I think she'll be OK. She should rest for a while, at least an hour or two, then send both girls home." He went over to Candice to see if she was any worse than she looked. Indeed, she seemed to be OK, in spite of the lethality of speedball. "Wow, Candice is strong."

"Can you...," Candice began, "C-cover me...up? I'm...shy."

"Of course. I'm sorry," Davis said. Larre left the room and got some blankets from the next-door bedroom. He returned and put them over the naked girls' bodies. Though Davis was relieved no longer to have the temptation of those two beautiful nude girls to look at, he was also disappointed to have it gone, for obvious reasons. Then he saw something surprising: Camilla was slowly waking up. "Wow, talk about a miracle recovery. Are you feeling better, Camilla?"

"Yeah, a bit," she said, almost in a whisper. 

"You're lucky, Camilla," the doctor said. "This time. But you can't ever do that again." 

"I...won't," she said weakly. Then she used Nigrovum on him. Take me to your clinic, she psychically urged him. Examine me more, just to make sure. 

"I guess I should get their clothes on and send them home, right?" Larre asked the doctor.

"Well," the doctor said. "Candice seems OK; b-but I should see Camilla i-in my clinic. I wanna look at her s-some more." He sure did. 

"At this time of night?" Larre asked. "It's past twelve." 

"Yeah," the doctor said. "I'll c-call my nurse and tell her it's an em-emergency. I'm worried: she came out of it too quickly. That's odd. I'd l-like to do s-some tests on her." 

"OK," Larre said. "Anything you say, doc, and thanks. And please: nobody knows what happened in here, OK?"

"Of course," Davis said. "I'll be perfectly discreet; don't you worry about that. I'm glad to have been of help." He sure was, more than he knew. 

"I'll put her dress on for her," Larre said. Then Camilla used Nigrovum to distract him. "Wait: I forgot to do something. I'll be right back." He suddenly left the room and went to the washroom on the second floor. When he got there, the Nigrovum wore off, and he didn't understand why he was even there. 

She'd also used Nigrovum to make the doctor not think to put her dress on. He gently picked her up off the chair and carried her towards the door. She still had the blanket on her, but it was falling off. Larre came in, conveniently to open the door for Davis, and Larre caught the blanket as it came off her body. He put it on her again, worried that the guests would see a naked girl in the hall. Again, she used Nigrovum to make him not think to get her dress. Dr. Davis took her downstairs and to the front door. His wife saw him.

"What are you doing with that girl, Ethan?" she asked him.

"Emergency, Lila," he told her. "Drug overdose. I'm taking her to a hospital."

"No ambulance?" she asked.

"No time," he said. "I'll just drive her there. I'll come back later and get you."

"Don't bother, honey," she said. "I'll get Jeff to drive me home. I'll see you at home tonight."

He put Camilla in the passenger seat beside him in his car and drove off. As he was heading for his clinic, he was about to call his nurse on his cell-phone, but Camilla used Nigrovum to stop him. She wanted them to be alone.

******************

At the front door to the building where his clinic was, he gently put her down so he could get out his keys. The blanket fell off her as she was leaning on the wall. 

"Oh, shit," he said, rushing to pick up the blanket and wrap it around her. He unlocked the door and got her inside. He carried her to the elevator, wondering what this craziness was that was making him take this naked girl into his office, when he knew she'd only needed to rest for a while in that room with Larre, then Larre could take her home. Still, the Nigrovum was making him do everything. He got her into the elevator, and they went up to the third floor. There he carried her to the front door of his office. He put her down again and unlocked the door; again, the blanket fell off her body. "Well, nobody's here, so I guess I don't need to worry about that." He picked her up and carried the naked girl into his office.

He took her into his examination area, and put her on a table. "Thank you...for taking care...of me," she said. Now the naked girl was more acting like someone who'd ODed than like someone who really had. Indeed, thanks to Nigrovum, she was much better now: a truly miraculous recovery.

He got a stethoscope and brought it to her heart. Her heart-rate was normal! He was amazed. He could see she was also breathing normally, too. "I don't believe it," he said. 

Though she was still drowsy and needed Nigrovum to see clearly, it was obvious to her that handsome Dr. Davis was her type. "You gonna continue examining me, doctor?" she asked. 

"Do I even need to?" he asked. "You're almost one hundred percent: how can that be?"

"I have friends in high places," she said.

He went to a shelf and got a tongue depressor. When he came back to her, she stuck out her tongue, flickering it just before he put the tongue depressor on it. She put her leg between his legs and lifted it up to touch his groin. She was delighted at the impressive size of his erection. "Please, Camilla," he said. "I need to focus on my examination here."

"You can examine other parts of me, doctor," she purred, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Does my body please you?" With Nigrovum, she visualized a small light touching his heart. 

"As beautiful as you are..."

"Thank you," she said with a giggle. That psychic light was slowly growing; now it was like the flickering fire of a matchstick. 

"I'm married."

"So? Is the Mrs. coming here later?" The fire grew bigger and bigger. 

"No, but--"

"Then there's no problem. Why don't you look down at my body? You can stare at my tits if you want." Now his whole heart was on fire with lust. 

"Camilla, let's not be naughty, OK?" So hard it was to resist that flame. 

"Why not? Nobody needs to know."

"I'll know," he insisted, putting down the tongue depressor. Putting his hands on her cheeks, he then said, "Look, you're very lovely, but I have a wonderful wife and family. I don't want to mess that up."

"But you saved my life, doctor. I owe everything to you: my life, my body. As far as I'm concerned, my body is your property. Do whatever you like with it."

"Camilla, don't be silly. I never saved you. If anything, you saved yourself. I don't understand how someone can rebound like that, but you did."

"You did save me, doctor. Psychologically. Just knowing I had a doctor there to help me helped me to stop being scared, then I was able to focus on the Nigrovum and get better. Really, you saved my life. I owe you big time; and I really wanna pay." She giggled and rubbed her foot against his erection.

"Camilla, we mustn't. I--"

"Wanna see my pussy, doctor? I'll spread my legs for you." She did. She then stretched her cunt wide open with her fingers, and looked at him with agape eyes and pursed lips, eager to see his reaction. 

No longer able to resist the temptation, he looked down: what a delicious pair of purple liquorice labia! "My God," he moaned. She was visualizing his whole chest as an inferno of desire. 

"A lot of men think my asshole is pretty; wanna see?" she asked, rolling over on all fours and sticking out her ass for him. 

"Oh, OK," he panted. 

She opened her buttocks wide so he could see her anus. Looking back at him, she asked, "Do you like it?"

"Beautiful; and to think, you poop out of that."

She giggled. Suddenly, they could hear footsteps coming toward the clinic. "Oh, shit," he said. "That might be my wife." He rushed over to the door. Why didn't I lock up outside? he thought; stupid! 

The door opened. He saw M. Larre there with Candice, who was in a sexy black evening gown. "How's Camilla?" Candice asked.

"Sh-she's fine," the doctor said. "How'd you get better so fast?"

"Friends in high places," she said. "Where's Camilla?"

"In the other room," Davis said. "How'd you find my clinic?"

"Your wife told us," M. Larre said.

"Is she here?" the doctor asked nervously.

"No, no," Candice said. "She's still at the party. She gave us the address, and we came here. We have Camilla's dress and her purse. If she's all better, we'd like to take her home now."

"OK," the doctor said. 

Camilla came out to where they were. "Thanks for bringing my stuff, guys," she said. She took out her new name card from her purse and gave it to Dr. Davis. "This is where I work, doctor: Club Ritz. Come over and see me sometime...I'll let you do much more than just see, too, if you know what I mean." Smiling lewdly at the doctor, she then sighed, "Good night, doctor: thank you for saving my life." Still naked, she left the office with Larre and Candice, who was carrying her dress for her. 

The fire in his heart was now finally cooling. "Thank God," he said to himself. He'd successfully resisted temptation. Still, he had her Club Ritz card. The strip-joint was conveniently easy to find, too.



Camilla Ch. 063



"Father Josiah," Camilla said in pretend reproach to the plain-clothed priest as he, having just come in Club Ritz on Saturday night, walked over to her. "Why aren't you wearing your priest outfit? You look much sexier that way."

"Camilla, please," he said as they went into a private room. "Don't talk that way. I'm dishonouring my collar enough as it is. But speaking of clothes, you look lovely in that dress."

"Thank you," she said, looking down at her scarlet dress, which went only a third of the way down her upper legs. He sat on a couch, and she sat on his lap. "So, what can I do for you tonight, Father?"

"Actually, I was hoping to do something for you, Camilla," he said.

"Great," she said with a lewd smile. "I'll get naked, then."

"Wait, I didn't mean that. I thought of a job you could do while keeping your clothes on."

"How boring." She got up and dropped her dress on the floor. After kicking off her high heels, she was nude.

"Wait, hear me out. You could be a--"

"Source of great pleasure for you," she said. Then she licked his face several times, as much to stop his futile persuading as to arouse him. "Thanks, Father, but no thanks. I like it here."

"Why?"

"I like being sexy," she said, sitting on his lap with her back to him. A new song began. She started rubbing her buns against his erection. Its tip brushed against her wet vulva.

"But..."

"Sorry, Father. I'm really...not interested. Oh!" She took his hands and put them on her breasts. She guided his fingers to rub circles around her areolae. "Touch me like that. I like it. Ah!"

"I don't...have any money...for lap-dances," he said.

"That's OK...Make me come...and it's...for free."

"I mustn't...I'm guilty enough...as it is."

"You must...make me come...if you don't, without any money...to pay me, you'll be...beaten up...by the bouncers. Oh!"

"I can't."

"You already are," she said.

"I don't want...to sin...anymore."

"You don't want...to stop...any more...than I...want you to."

"Please...oh! I shouldn't," he panted.

"Touch me here," she said, taking his right hand off her breast and putting it on her pussy. She guided his index finger to rub against her clitoris. "Oh, that feels good." Then she got up, opened her buttocks wide to show him her anus, and looked back to see his reaction, which was an embarrassed blush. She turned around, and after brushing her breasts against his face, she sat on his lap again, but now facing him. She put his right hand on her vulva again, guiding his index finger inside and rubbing it against her G-spot. Then she put his left hand on her ass and opened her left buttock so she could put his long finger on her asshole to rub it.

"Camilla...this is...filthy," he sighed.

"No, it's not," she said. "I cleaned it thoroughly."

"No...what we're doing...is filthy."

"It's fun...enjoy yourself...I'm almost there...Ah!" Her left hand massaged the hard-on in his jeans, while her right hand went in his T-shirt and tickled his left nipple. About to come, she got up and put his hands under her cunt. Fingering her clit briefly, she then gushed all over his hands. "Oh!"

"That's disgusting," he panted.

"No, it's not...It's tasty...try some." She pushed his hands up to his face; while a bit went in his mouth, much of the rest spilled on his chin, neck, and under his T-shirt, soaking his chest. "Oh, dear. I'll clean you up." She licked his hands clean, drinking the rest of her come, then she licked the rest off his chin, neck, and chest, pulling up his T-shirt and licking his left nipple.

"Why are you...so unashamed...to be...naked?" he asked.

"Why was Eve unashamed, before the Fall?"

"Touche."

The song ended, and she sat beside him.

"When God knew Adam and Eve were ashamed to be naked, He knew they'd eaten the forbidden fruit and fallen from grace," she said.

"True."

"To be saved," she continued, "Jesus says we have to be as a child, right?" She kept massaging the bulging hard-on in his jeans.

"Yeah."

"Innocent, naive, not judging. Three- and four-year-olds don't care if you see 'em naked, right? 'Cause they don't know there's something to be ashamed about."

"Right." His cock felt as if it would soon burst out of his jeans.

"Didn't Paul say we're justified by faith, and not the law?"

"Yes, but--"

"'If it had not been for the law, [Paul] would not have known sin'; didn't he say that in his letter to the Romans?" the naked theologian continued.

"Well yeah, but--"

"No one is justified before God by the law?" she asked, no longer touching his groin.

"How does a stripper know so much about the Bible?"

"In religion class at my Catholic high school, I sat up and listened (because I thought the teacher was cute). My photographic memory makes sure I don't forget."

"I see," he said, impressed. His erection was going away: this relieved him.

"So to be free of sin, forget what you know, I say. Changing the subject for a moment, you really should have drunk more of my come, Father."

"Why would I want to do such a filthy thing?"

"Because my come has, well, special ingredients in it."

"What special ingredients?"

"Let's just call them 'the sons of God'."

Alarmed, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"The Spirit," she said. "'The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.'"

"Don't blaspheme, Camilla." He was getting angry.

"Really. Something divine came down from heaven, got on the grass, then I masturbated and came on the grass; and the sons of God went up my pussy."

"What is this nonsense you're talking about?" His voice was getting louder. "I don't want to slap you, Camilla, but I will if you continue to speak blasphemies!"

"Really; it's given me special powers. Let me demonstrate." She closed her eyes, and visualized his cock getting hard. Indeed, within seconds, his limp dick slowly became erect again. "Remember Mass? That was me giving you pleasure." She giggled lewdly.

"Camilla, stop that--now!"

Turning off the Nigrovum, she whined, "You're no fun, Father." She pouted like a spoiled little girl.

"You've been tampering with the spirit world, and I don't mean the Holy Spirit. Camilla, that's a Satanic power you have. You must be rid of it. Let me help you...let me help you save your soul by finding Jesus."

"Father, I'm already a Catholic."

"Believing in Christ isn't just about being born a Catholic; one must live the faith. Let me help you."

"OK," she said. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"Sleep with me."

"Oh, Camilla, you know I--"

"You know you want to," she said, looking intensely in his eyes and visualizing the rose touching his heart. "'He who doesn't love doesn't know God, for God is love.' So love me."

Resisting her psychic powers, he corrected, "Camilla, St. John wasn't referring to that kind of love in his epistle. God is agape."

"Agape's my Daddy's name," she said, grinning like a little girl. "He's such a sweet man. Anyway, Father, if you don't wanna fuck me tonight, take me out to dinner sometime. The sex can come later."

"Dinner with you?" he asked. "Now that I can do. I'd better go now, though. Gotta get ready for Mass tomorrow. Will you be there?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great. Goodnight, Camilla." He took her hand and kissed it.

She giggled and said, "Goodnight, Father. See you in church."

As he opened the door, he said, "OK, but don't do that...you know, what you just did...with that evil power. Not tomorrow: it's not the turn-on you think it is, really."

"I promise," she said, holding up her hand to swear. "I'll be good." He left.

When she, still naked, walked out of the private room, she saw Bob walking through the front door. He saw her and went over to her.

"There's that amazing body," Bob said. "How are you?"

"Great," she said. "Let's do a photo shoot tomorrow afternoon. Some POV in a botanical garden. About three o'clock, OK?"

"OK," he said. "What about the secretary fantasy?"

"Another time: a local priest gave me some inspiration."

*****************

Late that night, Camilla went home and saw her already-tipsy father in the living room listening to music and finishing his third glass of bourbon.

"Is it OK if Candice comes over tonight, Daddy?" she asked. "She gets so lonely in that apartment of hers."

When sober, Agape was torn between fearing her sexual advances and being inexplicably turned on by them; when drunk, the inhibited feelings tended to melt away.

"Yeah, sure," he slurred. "Candice can come over for another party, if she wants." He belched.

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, kissing him on the cheek and taking his glass into the kitchen. "I'll fix you another drink."

"I don't know what it is," he said. "Whenever I drink with you, I feel a lot more smashed than normal."

"It's the weed," she said, mixing some ecstasy in the glass of Jim Beam she'd just poured. "It's pretty powerful."

"Yeah, I guess so. But somehow it feels like more than just pot. You girls aren't putting amphetamine in my drinks, are you?"

"Of course not," she said, coming out of the kitchen and handing him his glass. Sitting by the coffee table, she then got her marijuana out of her purse and rolled a joint. She lit it, took a few puffs, and gave it to him. Then she got up and walked toward the stairs.

"W-where are you g-going?" he asked in slurs.

"Upstairs," she said. "I wanna change, then call Candice."

"OK," he said, then took a few tokes.

In her bedroom with her door wide open, she took off her dress and high heels. Remaining naked, she took her cell-phone out of her purse and called Candice. "Don't forget your black wig," Camilla said.

"I don't think I'll need one," Candice said. "My hair is half-red, half-black now: didn't you notice tonight?"

"Yes, I did, you sexy tigress. Mine's getting blacker and blacker, too. Maybe you could use Nigrovum to make it all black; have you tried that?"

"Yeah," Candice said, looking at herself in the mirror in her bathroom. "I'm doing it now: it's all black."

"Great," Camilla said. "Wear that brown dress you bought yesterday; Carrie was wearing one just like it this afternoon when she had lunch with Daddy and me. Ugh, I thought the time we spent with her would never end."

"OK, I'll wear it. See you in twenty minutes. Bye."

"Bye," Camilla said, then hung up. Staring at her naked body in the mirror, she used Nigrovum to visualize her own hair blackening from its original blonde. In ten seconds, it was completely black. "Not bad."

Stoned Agape had come upstairs, and suddenly he appeared by the doorway to her bedroom; he had been wondering why she was taking so long. When he saw her standing there naked and with black hair, he was at first confused, not sure who this black-haired woman was. In his inebriation, he couldn't see her face clearly. She took advantage of his stupor and psychically made him hallucinate: he thought he saw Carrie's face on the woman standing there naked before him!

"C-Carrie, when'd you get here?" he slurred. "Why are you n-naked in Camilla's room? Where is she?" Then he ogled her body, innocently unaware it was his daughter's. "That's the b-best you've ever looked, baby."

"Thank you," Camilla said, horny and walking up to him. "Does my body please you, Da--" Suddenly stopping herself from instinctually calling him 'Dad', she quickly substituted, "you dapper man?"

"Y-yes," he said, putting his hands on her waist. "You are so sexy." He was getting an erection without any need of Nigrovum...apart from his hallucination.

Sighing at his touch, she said, "Kiss me."

"OK," he said, coming closer to her lips.

Since Camilla had also puffed on the joint, she was almost as high as her father; the high had lowered her inhibitions enough to be this open about her unnatural desires for him. She suddenly came to her senses, however, and stopped herself, ashamed at what she'd been trying to do. This was her dad! "My God, what am I doing?" she asked herself.

"What is it, Carrie?" he asked.

She pulled away, immediately ended his hallucination, and let her hair change back to blonde, which it quickly did. He was confused at the sudden change, then as soon as he realized his daughter was standing naked before him, he turned his head away in embarrassment.

"Oh, put y-your clothes on, Camilla," he said, then hurried downstairs and back to the living room.

Still blushing, she quickly put on some shorts and a T-shirt, then went back down to join him.

Black-haired Candice arrived soon after. When Agape, by now beginning to feel the effects of the ecstasy, saw her in the brown dress, he was again confused. "C-Carrie, is that you, sweetie?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Candice said as she walked into the living room.

"Actually, you l-look like Camilla's friend, Candice," he slurred, having difficulty focusing his eyes on her. "But you're d-dressed kinda like Carrie. You d-dyed your hair, right? Forgive me, I'm a little w-wasted."

"That's OK," Candice said. "Drink up and enjoy yourself. I brought some more party music." She got down on the floor and changed the music to some techno. Camilla brought two beers from the fridge and gave Candice one.

"Carrie was u-upstairs," Agape said, rocking and fidgeting in his chair. "At l-least I think she was. Sh-she didn't have her clothes on. Did she wanna have sex with me? Why, when you two g-girls are here?"

Camilla made him hallucinate that Carrie's face was on Candice's head. "She is here, Daddy," Camilla said. "She doesn't mind having sex with you in front of us; Candice and I will make love here, too." She winked at Candice to let her know she could get naked. "Naked and unashamed, like Adam and Eve."

"Uh, yeah," Candice said after taking a few puffs off a freshly-rolled joint. "No inhibitions tonight, Agape: let's fuck." She got naked, took him by the hands and pulled him up gently from his chair; she then had him lie on the floor on his back. She got on top of him in the 69 position, unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already fully erect from her psychic manipulations. She put the tip of his cock to her lips, then briefly kissed and licked it. After that, she wrapped her wet lips tightly around his knob and slid his shaft halfway in her mouth. He moaned as her lips slid up and down his cock.

With her cunt in his face, he immediately realized that it wasn't Carrie's: her pubic hair was completely black, but the pussy in front of him was a mixture of orange and black. "The p-pussy of a tigress," he said in moans to her expert cock-sucking skills. Still, it's very pretty, he thought to himself; this must be Candice's. Indeed, her cunt was not only pretty-looking, but also freshly cleaned; it would be a delight to lick. In his drug-induced state, he threw inhibition into the wind and started sucking on her clitoris. May Carrie forgive me, he thought. He stretched her vagina wide open and looked inside with fascination, then his tongue dove inside.

Camilla, jealous of the fun they were having, got naked and joined them. She sucked on Candice's right breast and fondled her left one. As she sucked on that pointy nipple, she watched Candice's mouth go up and down on her father's beautiful cock, the one she not so unconsciously coveted. She fingered her clitoris as she watched, squealing and sighing in excitement. The fact that she was completely stoned loosened her inhibitions about enjoying those unnatural desires, but paradoxically the marijuana was also making her paranoid from the guilt.

Candice played with Agape's balls, shaking them gently as she deep-throated him. What a big cock! she thought. I could suck this one all night! Indeed, she delayed his orgasm for several minutes so she could gluttonously enjoy the huge sausage she had in her salivating mouth. Finally, she was getting tired and her jaws were sore, so she stimulated the underside of his cock with her upper lip, just under the knob, where his corpus spongiosum met it. Then he came several powerful blasts in her mouth; she swallowed most of it, but some dribbled down her chin. She came soon after, and he licked her secretion clean. Then she put his spent penis back in his pants, zipped him up, and got off him. He just lay there on the floor, fidgeting and peaking on the ecstasy.

She lay on the floor on her back, and Camilla got on top so they were in the 69 position. Camilla sucked on Candice's hard clitoris while Candice put her index and long fingers inside Camilla's vagina. As her fingers poked at Camilla's A-spot and tickled her G-spot, Candice licked Camilla's asshole. The girls moaned and sighed as they fingered, licked, and sucked. Camilla put her finger inside Candice's pussy and fingered her G-spot, never taking her lips off Candice's clit. Soon, Candice's tongue and fingers changed positions: she put her tongue inside Camilla's cunt, reaching for her G-spot, and gently pushed her index finger deep inside Camilla's rectum, rubbing it against the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. The girls' moans soon changed to high-pitched screams, and they came almost simultaneously, Camilla bathing Candice's face with her cooze.

After lying on the floor and catching their breath, the girls got up. Camilla wiped her come off her pussy with her hand and licked it off her fingers; Candice, about to go to the bathroom, stood up, facing Agape.

"Wh-where's Carrie?" he asked, still peaking.

"Right here, Agape," Candice said, her face completely obscured with Camilla's come.

"What's that on your face, honey?" he asked.

"Your honey," she lied. "I really like sucking you off, you horny bee."

*****************

In Agape's car on the way to Sunday Mass, he and Camilla chatted.

"I can't believe how non-hungover I feel after last night's debauchery," he said.

"Really?" she asked. Nigrovum is better than aspirin, she thought.

"Was I fu- having sex last night, or dreaming?" he asked.

"Dreaming, probably," she lied.

"Anyway, how's your reading?" he asked. "Are you having any trouble with all that literature?"

"Most of it I can understand," she said. "It was a good idea having me read your books to prepare me for my first university year. There's just one line in Taming of the Shrew I'm not sure about: in Act One, Scene Two, Lucentio says something to Gremio about Tranio, who's pretending to be Lucentio, and the words sound pretty raunchy."

"Taming of the Shrew, Act One, Scene Two, eh? I know that play almost line for line. What does Lucentio say?"

"He says to Gremio, 'Sir, give him head. I know he'll prove a jade.' Is he telling Gremio to--?"

"No, he isn't," Agape said, chuckling.

******************

During Mass, Father Josiah's sermon was about the innocence and naivete of God's grace. Though his homily was inspired by some of the things Camilla had talked about, he hoped to give her more appropriately Christian interpretations of the Bible passages she had been quoting on Saturday night.

"Adam and Eve, before the Fall, were like naive children, unaware of the social scandal of nakedness," he explained. "Though the Bible isn't telling us to be exhibitionists," he said, deliberately looking at Camilla, who sat with Agape at the front pew. "We must have the innocence of children, for Jesus says we must be like children to get into the kingdom of heaven. We must not be ashamed of our true, vulnerable selves: this is symbolized by nakedness. We must not wear the fig leaf loincloths of social hypocrisy, for Jesus warns us against false righteousness."

Camilla listened in awe of his interpretation of the Adam and Eve story. I always interpreted 'naked, and unashamed,' too literally, she thought.




Camilla Ch. 063



"When we eat the body and drink the blood of Christ," the priest continued, "we mustn't do so unworthily, for fear of eating and drinking our own damnation. So says St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians." Again, Josiah looked at Camilla, hoping she'd think twice about what he'd seen her drink the night before, and about its Satanic ingredients, as he understood them to be.

"He is so smart," she whispered to herself. "And too cute." It took all of her effort to resist the temptation to give him another psychic erection during Mass.

"You see," he continued, "when we're like children, we're humbly aware of our helplessness before God, and we don't presume to be anything greater than we really are. What tempted Adam and Eve to disobey God, and eat the forbidden fruit, was pride. Satan in the serpent deceived the two naked lovers, making them believe the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge would give them power. We say it all the time: knowledge is power; but we also say that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and that was exactly what the first man's and woman's problem was. What we know in this world is necessarily incomplete. Paul tells us that we see through a glass darkly; only when we're in heaven will we see the truth in its entirety, for only then will we be ready for it."

"You are amazing, Father," Camilla whispered. "What wisdom."

Again the priest looked deliberately at Camilla when he said, "We cause mayhem whenever we try to mix the human and divine worlds, as did the sons of God when they married the daughters of men. Similarly, Adam and Eve thought knowledge would make them like gods, but it only made them aware of how helpless they were in their nakedness. For their sin of pride, they were punished with shame, and we all lost paradise. In eating the forbidden fruit, they ate their own damnation, as we do if we take Communion unworthily. One of the most important things God teaches us is the indispensability of humility, and the evil of pride. Love your neighbour, serve God, and be like a child: innocent, and humbly aware of your helplessness."

Though Camilla couldn't have been more impressed with Father Josiah's sermon, she would pay no heed to his words in her daily life...and even less so in her night life.

*******************

Camilla met with Bob at 3:00 in the afternoon that day in a botanical garden filled with people of all ages.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Bob asked nervously as he put the straps of his special, custom-made POV camera around his head.

"Sure," she said, holding an apple and--eager to get naked--ready to drop her trench-coat. "it gets me hot."

"But I'm a little nervous about getting naked in front of all these people," he said. "I'm not as hot a guy as you are a girl. And what if we get in trouble with the cops? I didn't pay any off to protect us this time."

"None of that will be a problem," she assured him. "Remember that power I have, what I demonstrated with those customers in Club Ritz last night?"

"Oh, yeah; when you froze everybody around us, and you sucked my cock in front of them. The guys just watched, but couldn't move or say anything."

"That's right; and when we were finished, I made them forget who we were. They went home knowing they saw some hot oral sex, but they don't remember that we were the ones doing it."

"Right," he said, ready to take off his trench-coat. "And you can make all these people do the same thing, eh?"

"Yep," she said. "Watch." Concentrating intensely for a minute, she visualized a blue light covering everyone in the area except herself and Bob; anyone coming into the blue area would also be affected, and no one would be able to go out. Then she visualized them all looking at herself and Bob, and no longer able to move or speak. Soon enough, everyone froze, compelled to watch the soon-to-be-nude film-makers, and not able to say a word. "OK, let's do it."

She and Bob dropped their trench-coats, and were now completely nude, except for the POV camera head-piece Bob had on. They were about to do an Adam and Eve fantasy.

The crowd of people watching couldn't decide which thing they should be more shocked about: the public nudity they now saw, or their own mute immobility.

In this POV video, you are 'Adam', for everything is seen from 'Adam's' perspective.

Eve takes a bite from her apple, lewdly smiles, and entices you with it.

"Come on, Adam, have a bite," she says, grinning, shaking her hips, and holding the apple out to you. "Let's learn about good and evil. Knowledge is power."

"OK," you say. "We're naked, and not ashamed."

She hands the apple to you, you take a bite, she takes another bite, and you take one more bite. Then you throw the apple on the ground, and you and Eve embrace as you finish eating and swallow the chewed-up apple.

She kisses you on the lips, and says, "Now, let's get some carnal knowledge of good and evil."

"Yeah," you say. "It's so bad, and yet it's so good!"

You bend down and suck on her left tit while she jacks you off. Her nipple and your cock are now fully erect. She gets on the ground on all fours, and you get behind her for some doggy-style.

"Time to raise Cain," you say. You slide your cock inside her wet pussy, and she squeals with delight. She looks back at you with a lewd grin as you thrust your manhood aggressively inside her cunt. As you're fucking her, you open her buttocks wide so you can see her pretty asshole: you stick your finger inside and probe her rectum with it.

The mothers and fathers there wanted to cover the eyes of their children, but were frustrated with their inability to do so. Why can't those two just get a room? they wondered. Their children were naturally curious about the unusual spectacle they were seeing.

Lecherous men watching wanted to masturbate, but were equally frustrated that they couldn't. Their hard-ons just poked bulges in their pants, apparently without need to be touched.

Eve screams in whistle register as she gushes her come all over your cock and balls, and it drips copiously all over the grass. Soon after, you are about to ejaculate, so you pull your cock out of her pussy. Eve gets on her back and holds your cock in her right hand, jerking you off. She points your cock at her tits as she plays with it, and you shoot your load first on her right breast, then on her left, then on her cleavage area, then on her belly. She brings your still-dripping cock up to her mouth and licks away the residue.

Now Eve needs to pee: she squats on the grass next to where she'd just come. You look right down between her legs and watch her piss pour out in a beautiful golden arc on the grass. She moans her pleasure at relieving herself. When she is finished, she gets up and kisses you on the lips.

Bob pushed STOP on the camera, he and Camilla put their trench-coats back on, and left the garden, hurrying to the car Bob had rented. When they got in and he started driving away, Camilla visualized the blue light disappearing.

Now the people at the park could finally move and talk.

"Who were those exhibitionists?" one mother angrily asked.

"Who knows?" her husband said, confused. "It's weird: I've already forgotten their faces."

"I wish I could remember what they looked like," one of the lechers said. "That girl had a nice body, but her face is a total blank to me."

**********************

That night, back at Agape's house, Camilla dreamed of Mr. Hanson.

"Piss on my ghost, O goddess," he said, lying naked on the grass at the botanical garden.

She, also naked, squatted over his chest and let loose a stream of yellow juice. It bathed his entire torso; drops splashed off and hit him on the face, arms, genitals, and legs. He smiled with delight.

When she finished, she brought her cunt over to his face and rubbed it against his nose, cheeks, and mouth.

"You killed me, you know," he suddenly said.

She woke up with a fright. All over her bed, it was wet and smelly. She pulled away the sheets, turned on her bedside lamp, and looked between her legs in horror. Her whole bed was soaked in her piss.

"I don't believe it," she said to herself. "I never wet the bed...even as a little girl, I never did. What the fuck is going on in my dream life?"



Camilla Ch. 064



Dr. Davis tried all he could to resist the temptation to go over to Club Ritz on Monday night and see Camilla; but the flame she'd lit in his heart was growing there again. Indeed, she psychically relit that fire, for she was sitting at a table in the middle of the main area of the strip joint, all bored from the scarcity of customers that night.

"I'll just watch her when she's onstage," he said to himself in his car on the way there. "No sex."

I'll lure him right into a private room as soon as he gets here, she thought as she psychically sensed him coming closer and closer to Club Ritz.

Ten minutes later, he walked through the front doors.

Psychically feeling him approach, she took off her white bra and panties, then--naked except for her high heels--she got up and walked over to him.

"Do you ever wear clothes?" he asked.

"Not if I don't have to, my doctor and my hero," she answered. "So good to see you again...and so good to be seen by you again." She giggled lewdly and turned around for him. "Remember this body?"

"How are you, Camilla?" he asked, trying not to leer. "Will you go onstage soon?"

"No, not for a while; I did my floor show about thirty minutes ago. There will be at least three or four strippers onstage before it's my turn again; one of them, Candice, is doing her floor show now. Take a look. Remember her?"

"Oh, yeah, the tiger-haired one from the Friday night party."

"Let's go into a private room and have some fun."

"No. Wait, Camilla--I just wanna..."

Before he could finish his sentence, she'd fanned that psychic fire in his heart, and pulled it with her as she walked over to the private rooms. He was pulled along with her like a magnet.

They went into a private room, he sat on a couch, and she sat on the bulge poking up in the middle of his lap. She put her right arm around his neck and looked in his eyes.

Now, Doctor," she purred. "How would you like to enjoy me?"

"Please, Camilla," he said. "I don't wanna carry things too far. I'm married, remember."

"Then we'll do it here," she said. "The Mrs. will never know."

"But I'll know. I'm also a father of..."

"Fathers are wonderful," she said with an ear-to-ear grin, remembering how much she loved Agape. "You saved my life, Doctor. I owe you my life...and my body. So I'm giving it to you tonight. I'll do anything you want me to. I'm your sex slave...for life. Gladly."

"Don't be silly, Camilla. You're not my slave, and you don't owe me anything." A new song began.

"Time to start pleasing you, my lord and master." She turned to face him, pressed her knee against his erection, and squeezed her breasts against his face. Then she slowly moved down, pushing her breasts against his chest, belly, and groin. When she got down there, she gently bit where the tip of his erection seemed to want to poke a hole out of his pants.

She unzipped his pants, giggling with lascivious excitement at the prospect of seeing the towering treasure inside.

"Wait, Camilla," he said nervously. "Let's not get crazy."

"You have three holes to choose from, Doctor." She got up and turned around so he could see her ass. "Let me remind you of what they all look like." Giggling, she spread her legs wide and bent over. Looking back at him upside-down from between her legs, she licked her lips. He now saw, from top to bottom and all aligned perfectly, her asshole, pussy, and mouth. "Which one would you like to put your cock inside, Doctor?" She put her hand in his pants and pulled his hard cock out.

"Wait. No..."

"The more you resist, the sexier you are to me. Choose, Doctor; or else, I will." She licked his dick-hole.

"You'd better choose," he said acquiescently.

"OK," she said, coming down to sit on his cock. "Pussies first." She aimed her vaginal orifice over his phallus and slowly fed it in. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she sighed in ascending pitches as it went in deeper. As she went up and down on his cock, her back to him, she pulled his pants down to his knees, in anticipation of her first orgasm, which was already well on its way. As he fucked her, he awkwardly kicked off his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off.

Moaning and grunting, he put his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them. His cock was a perfect fit, the tip gently kissing her A-spot while the thick sides gave her tight, wet vaginal walls tingling sensations. Screaming staccato squeals that bordered on the whistle register, she put her hands in her hair and pulled it up, letting it fall, tress by fragrant tress, down against his face.

Then she came: her screams in the whistle register pierced his ears as her come soaked his lap.

"Holy...shit!" he panted.

"In my...ass now," she said, getting up and pulling his cock out her dripping wet pussy. She got on the floor on all fours and got her anal lube out of her purse. She gave him the tube when he'd kneeled behind her. "Lube me up, Doctor: you know you want to."

"I can't believe...I'm doing this," he said as he lubed her rectum. "I'm cheating...on my wife."

"I won't tell...if you don't. Oh!" She loved the feeling of his finger deep in her ass.

He lubed his cock, then pushed it against her wide-open anus. He slowly slid it in about two inches. "Am I...hurting you?"

"No," she moaned. "It feels great. Deeper. Ah!" She looked back at him and smiled lewdly as he slid in further, now three-quarters of the way. "Oh, yeah!"

All the way in now, he slid it in and out half way, and kept thrusting and grunting. His hands were on her hips; her right hand fingered her clitoris. This was his first time to do anal: he'd always wondered what it was like, and though he felt guilty about betraying his family, he was glad to know this experience finally. Her pretty asshole was so tight! Her anal lips were better than the best of cock-suckers!

"I'm...gonna come," he moaned.

"OK...Take it out."

He pulled his cock out of her ass, and she turned around. He stood up while she, on her knees, had his cock pointed at her face. She jerked him off for several seconds, and he shot a jet of come just to the left of her nose. She screamed and giggled. Then he sprayed a burst of jizz in her right eye; she let out a high-pitched scream of surprise. Then he came on her lips and her left cheek. Seeing the residue pouring out of his dick-hole, she wiped it on the still-dry parts of her face; then she, all gooey-faced, looked up at him and giggled. She got some Kleenex from her purse and wiped her come off his crotch as best she could.

Still on her knees, and looking up at him again with his come dripping off her nose and chin, she asked, "Did I please you, Doctor?"

"Yes," he panted. "But I'm...a bad husband, and I mustn't let my wife know." He looked down at her imperfect cleaning; some of her come had gone down his legs below his knees, about to touch his socks. "I should clean myself off better than that. It's a good thing there are shower stalls in these private rooms. Maybe I should use ours." He pulled his socks off and went over to the shower stall.

"Let me help you," she said as she walked with him over there, his come still dripping off her face. She took off her high heels.

"You can clean up, too," he said as he took his shirt off.

"I'll leave it on my face if you like." She had the shower head in her hand, ready to clean him off.

"Actually, I'd feel better if you washed your face. Knowing that's my come dripping off your chin just makes me feel guiltier."

"Anything you say, Doctor." She sprayed the water on his groin and legs, thoroughly cleaning her come off him. Then she washed her face clean, and got some towels from a wall just outside the shower area. She dried them both off and helped him get dressed. "There you are," she said when he was fully-dressed again.

"Thank you," he said, reaching for his wallet in his pocket. "Now, how much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, of course," she insisted. "You saved my life. Feel free to fuck me anytime you want."

"Are you sure? I don't mind paying at all."

"But I do mind. I told you: I owe my life to you. I just paid you--some--and I don't mind paying at all, either." She giggled lewdly again.

"When will you go onstage again?" he asked.

"Oh, pretty soon. Let's go out and talk to Candice. She'll be done her floorshow by now."

They left the private room and returned to the main area of the strip joint. They sat at a table, and Candice soon joined them. She was wearing a red dress, while Camilla remained nude.

"Hi," Candice said to Dr. Davis as she sat down. "You're that doctor from Friday night. At the party." She shook his hand.

"Right," he said. "You're Candice, right?"

"Yep," she said. "You may not remember me, 'cause I'm dressed."

"You're the girl who likes to be dressed." Naked Camilla giggled when he looked at her.

"How are your dreams, Candice?" Camilla asked.

"They're starting to be like yours," Candice said. "Last night, I dreamt of Jasmine licking my pussy again; she licked me till I came. Then I dreamt my ex-boyfriend and I were fucking. You know my ex from Vancouver died a few weeks ago, right? Anyway, when I woke up from my dream this morning, come was leaking out of my pussy, which was also sore, the way my ex always used to make me feel after sex."

Camilla shuddered at this news, then said, "Last night I dreamt of giving Mr. Hanson a golden shower, and when I woke up, I saw I'd wet the bed. First time ever in my whole life."

Now Candice shuddered. "Ghosts are fucking us, Camil. I told you so before."

"I'm startin' to think you're right."

"What are you girls talking about?" Davis asked.

"It's a long story, Doctor," Candice told him. Then to Camilla she said, "E-mail Dr. Singh and ask him what he thinks."

"Oh, I will, don't worry," Camilla said. "Next chance I get."

"Don't you have to do your floorshow soon?" Candice asked. "Yeah," Camilla said. "After Desiree up there's finished. She's hot, kinda like Calina; I'm hiring her to do a POV video with Bob and me tomorrow afternoon. We're gonna do a secretary fantasy together: she and I are secretaries, and Bob's our horny CEO."

Candice, in her jealousy, tried to ignore what Camilla had said about Desiree.

Ten minutes later, Camilla put on her white underwear and high heels and went onstage. Candice and Dr. Davis went up to the tip rail and sat there to watch. Camilla's first song was "Once In a Lifetime," by the Talking Heads.

"So she does wear clothing sometimes," Davis said. "If only underwear."

"And when she's dressed," Candice added, "it's not for long."

Indeed, by the second chorus of the song, Camilla had already removed her bra, looking at Davis and wiggling her tits. As the song faded out at the end, she pulled down her panties and got her feet out of the leg holes. She picked her panties up and stuffed them in her pussy.

"Nude already?" he asked.

"That's how she likes to be," Candice said.

"But she hasn't even started her second..." Before he could finish his sentence, he felt her wet panties slap against his face; for she'd aimed, pulled on the elastic, and shot them at him like a slingshot. "Whoa, very nice." Holding them in his hands in fetishistic adoration, he sniffed them and rubbed them against his face.

Her second song was "Tainted Love," by Soft Cell.

"She really likes golden oldies, doesn't she?" he asked.

"Yeah," Candice said. "But she'll dance to some new songs sometimes, too."

The naked girl danced around in only her high heels. From time to time, she'd squat in front of Candice and the doctor to show them her pussy. At other times she'd have her back to them, open her legs, and spread her buttocks wide open so he and Candice could see her asshole. Very few other people were in the bar, so Camilla could get away with focusing her attention only on her two lovers. When the song ended, she took off her shoes.

Her third song was "The Widow," by The Mars Volta. She was slowly crawling around on the stage.

"Oh, I love this song," Candice said. "Wanna watch some lezzie action, Doctor?" She got up.

"What?" he asked.

"I wanna eat her pussy. Enjoy the show." Candice went over to the side of the stage and got naked. She went onstage and crawled towards Camilla's ass.

Still on all fours, Camilla spread her legs wide open and pushed out her ass so her asshole and pussy were exposed to Candice's salivating mouth. Candice crawled over and buried her face between Camilla's buttocks, licking her pussy and asshole frenziedly. The girls moved so Dr. Davis could see where Candice was licking. Camilla moaned and squealed as Candice ate her out. Paying no attention to the rest of the song lyrics, Camilla moaned only the words of the chorus: "I'll never, never sleep alone."

The girls soon got into a 69, with Camilla on top and her ass pointed at Davis. Camilla's tongue tickled Candice's clit, and Camilla's finger rubbed against Candice's G-spot. Candice slid her finger deep inside Camilla's asshole while sucking on her labia. Candice pulled her finger out, revealing Camilla's gaping anus to Davis' fascinated eyes.

By the last chorus of the song, Camilla had gushed her ejaculation all over Candice's face; Davis could clearly see the splashing. It was an incredible performance, and all for him. He went home feeling guilty, but thoroughly entertained.

***************

On Tuesday afternoon, Camilla went to Bob's new apartment. She was wearing a grey skirt and matching blazer, as well as a white blouse and black high heels. Her hair done up in a bun, she was ready to do a POV secretary fantasy video with Bob, who was in a suit, and Desiree, who wore a black-and-red dress with flower patterns. Desiree was in the bathroom freshening up.

Bob had set up a spare room to look like an office, with a desk and computer for himself.

"I'm glad to see everything's ready, Bob," Camilla said. "How are you?"

"Great," he said, "though I had a really intense dream last night about a girl I'd slept with back in Vancouver, just after you'd left."

"Really?" she asked, worried. "Tell me more."

"Back when I'd fucked her," he explained, "she got so excited, she dug her nails into my back and scratched me so I bled. Those scars healed, of course. In my dream, she did the same thing, but dug her nails even deeper. When I woke up today, blood was on my bed, and now I have new scars on my back."

"Eerie," she said. I'll bet the girl died, too; I'm definitely talking to Ravinder about this, she thought. Trying to forget this disturbing news, she then said, "OK, let's do this secretary fuck, then. Desiree, are you ready?"

"Yeah," Desiree said as she came out of the bathroom.

"Do you know your cue?" Camilla asked.

"Yeah, no problem," Desiree said.

Bob put the straps for his POV camera around his head and neck. "You ready?" he asked Camilla.

"Yep," Camilla said. "Hit PLAY."

He did. You are Bob, the boss, for everything in the video is seen from Bob's perspective.

Camilla, your secretary, comes into your office with a folder for you.

"Here you are, sir," she says with a grin as she hands it to you. "The report you wanted."

"Thanks," you say.

"Anything else I can do for you?" she asks, still grinning.

"Yes," you say, looking up and down at her.

Not at all perturbed by her boss ogling her, and grinning as if she likes the ogling, she says, "What would you like me to do for you, sir?"

"I wanna see you completely naked; take all your clothes off, right now."

With widening eyes and a giggle of pleasant shock, she says, "Well, that's the first time any of my bosses has ever wanted me to do that." She removes her blazer. "Very well, then, if that's what you want." She takes off her skirt.

"You don't mind doing that for your boss?" you ask.

"You're my boss, and I must obey you," she says with a lascivious sparkle in her eyes as she unbuttons her blouse. Still grinning, she takes it off, revealing the pink lace bra that matches her panties. She turns around for you, bends over, and sticks her ass out near your face.

"What lovely underwear," you say. "You are pretty in pink." You pat her on the behind several times.

"Thank you, sir," she says with a giggle. Then she straightens up, turns around to face you, unclips her bra, and reveals her large breasts with a wiggle.

"My God, your tits are sensational," you say.

"Thank you." She pulls down her panties, then pulls her feet out of the leg holes, and kicks off her high heels. Now completely frontally nude before you, grinning, she says, "Ta da! How do I look?" She giggles again.

"Better than I'd imagined," you say as you look up and down at her, getting an eyeful of her breasts and pubic hair. "Turn around for me and bend over, sweetie. I wanna see what secrets you have hiding down there."

"Yes, sir," she says as if she merely had to get him another report. With her legs spread wide open, she bends over so you can clearly see her pussy and asshole. She looks back at you upside-down from between her legs. "Do you like what you see, sir?"

"Do I ever," you say. "I'm gonna stick my fingers in your two pretty little holes; is that OK with you?"

"OK," she says. "What do you want me to do?"

"Unzip my pants and suck my dick."

"Yes, sir," she says, and takes your cock out of your pants while you put your left index finger deep inside her asshole, and put your right index and middle fingers inside her cunt. She runs her hand along your shaft while tickling the tip of your dick with her tongue. Then after licking your knob for a while, she puts your cock three-quarters of the way inside her mouth.

You alternate between looking up at the pussy and asshole you're fingering, and looking down at her mouth going up and down on your cock. You look at each salacious action for a few seconds each, and this looking up and down continues for the next few minutes. You're both moaning and sighing the whole time.

Then Desiree, another secretary, suddenly walks into the office and catches you two. Camilla straightens up, so Desiree can see her frontally nude.

Shocked, Desiree says, "So, Camilla, this is how you plan to rise in the company. By getting a rise out of our boss. You slut! This is so unfair!"

"What's so unfair about it?" you say. "You can do it, too."

"Really?" Desiree says, smiling lewdly.

"Sure," you say. "Come over here, get naked, and let's all do it on the floor."

"OK," Desiree says. Then the sexy brunette takes off her dress, revealing her black bra and panties.

"Nice undies, Desiree," you say.

"Yeah," Camilla says as she goes to lie down on the floor. "Very sexy." She is on her back now.

"Thanks to you both," Desiree says. Then she takes off her bra and shows off her tits with a wiggle. They're not as big as Camilla's, but they're big enough, and firm and natural. Off go her shoes and down go her panties, revealing a hairy bush indeed similar to Calina's.

"That's a nice body you have, Desiree," you say as you get on Camilla in the missionary position.

"Yeah," Camilla says, ready to receive his cock. You look down at her body, then back up at naked Desiree.

"Bend over and spread 'em," you say to Desiree.

"OK," she says, and does as you wish. You ogle her hairy pussy and asshole for a few seconds.

"OK," you say, "get over here and sit on Camilla's face."




Camilla Ch. 064



As you begin to slide your cock inside Camilla's pussy, Desiree goes over and gently lowers her pussy onto Camilla's hungry mouth. Camilla is sighing as your cock goes in deeper and deeper. Desiree moans as she feels Camilla's sighs blowing against her hairy bush. Now sitting on Camilla's face, Desiree sighs to the sensation of Camilla's tongue in her vagina. As you're thrusting your cock in Camilla's pussy, you reach over and fondle Desiree's breasts. Desiree reaches over to you and briefly kisses you, then moves back so you can see Camilla's tongue gluttonously licking away. You alternate between looking at your cock in Camilla's pussy and and her face in Desiree's cunt.

Soon, you're about to come, and you pull out of Camilla's vagina. As she continues eating Desiree out, Desiree jacks you off, and you blow your load all over Camilla's belly. Then Desiree, also a gusher, comes all over Camilla's face.

Desiree gets off of Camilla, and you zoom in on her come-soaked face, then you look down at her belly and her crotch: a flood of her come is everywhere on the carpet between her legs.

"Well, I guess it's time to have the carpet shampooed," you say. "But all the same, that was good work, girls. I predict big promotions coming your way soon."

Bob pressed STOP on the camera. "Well," he said. "I guess that's a wrap."

*****************

At Club Ritz that night, Camilla chatted with Candice as they sat at a table, bored again and waiting for customers to ask them for lap-dances.

"Did you e-mail Dr. Singh and ask him about our dreams?" Candice asked.

"Yeah," Camilla answered. "In his replay, he said he totally agrees that Nigrovum is affecting our dreams."

"So is it ghosts of dead lovers?" Candice asked.

"That, or something like that," Camilla said. "He says what we're experiencing is like what they call Incubi."

"What's that?"

"An Incubus is an evil spirit that rapes women in their dreams," Camilla explained. "That's what Ravinder says, though he's not sure that's what's happening to us. He says it could be just Nigrovum living on in the dead people's bodies, then sending out energy to us while we sleep."

"How can that be if our lovers are dead?"

"He says that though Jasmine, Mr. Hanson, and the others are dead, Nigrovum has affected their energy, causing their desires to stay alive. The alien beings Ravinder thinks Nigrovum are cause those desires to be manifested. The energy of those desires radiates outward because Nigrovum, aliens made sympathetic to those desires, will it so; the energy then seeks us out and finds us, the objects of their desires. Ravinder thinks they get at us in our sleep because our defences, apparently, are down."  

"OK, but what do you mean by 'their energy'?"

"Ravinder says everything is energy: matter, mind, body, spirit, even thoughts. Nigrovum was in our lovers' bodies, and it's still in their bodies even after their deaths. It still animates everything about them, though not their bodies. Ravinder says this could be proof of the existence of soul, of atman; but none of his scientific colleagues believe him."

"So what are we gonna do about these ghost-dreams, these inky-bite-whatevers?"

"I say fight Nigrovum with Nigrovum," Camilla answered.

"How?" Candice asked.

"We'll build psychic barriers around our bodies when we go to bed, so the ghosts--the incubi--can't get at us. It should work."

Just then, Miles Holland came into the bar. Camilla saw him approaching.

"Hi, sir!" she said, then got up, pulled off her dress to reveal her naked body, and walked over to him. "Shall we go into a private room?"

"Of course," he said, and they went into one.

Candice just sat there, alone and bored. "I doubt I can build that psychic barrier when I'm too high to concentrate," she said to herself.

Inside the private room, Camilla and Miles didn't bother with either the couches or the bed; she got on the floor on all fours, and he got behind her. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Anticipating her gushing, he remembered to take his pants and underwear right off before sticking his cock in her.

"Where do you want to put it, sir?" she asked. "In my ass, or in my pussy?"

"We'll go with your pussy this time," he said, touching his knob against her vaginal orifice.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" she sighed. He pushed his cock in a few inches. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she squealed as it went in a few inches more.

"Oh!" he moaned as he shoved it in all the way. After a few aggressive thrusts, she gushed her first orgasm. His cock and balls were drowning in her jizz.

He reached over and grabbed her tits as he kept fucking. She squealed those high-pitched staccato screams, ever wavering between soprano and whistle register. Soon, she came again, showering his cock and balls with goo.

"Wanna...put it...in my...mouth, sir?" she asked with a wavering voice as he kept impaling her with his phallus. "Ah!"

"Yeah," he moaned, and pulled his cock out of her waterfall vulva.

She turned around quickly, eager to have his cock in her mouth. He stood up, and she, on her knees, opened her mouth wide. He brought the tip to her lips. Looking up at him with a slutty smile, she licked and kissed his knob a few times, then took his shaft all the way in, deep-throating him.

Looking down at her, he couldn't stop being amazed at her seemingly effortless control of her gag reflex. His pubic hair brushed against her nose; she loved having that long, thick hunk of manhood filling in every cavity of her mouth and throat. She played with his balls as she continued deep-throating him.

Finally she pulled her mouth away, having his cock only half-way inside her mouth. Her tongue tickled his protruding corpus spongiosum, and her wet lips were tightly sealed against his shaft. She never stopped looking up at him, all lovingly and eager to please him.

"I'm...gonna come," he grunted.

She'd had his cock three-quarters of the way inside her mouth, and she was about to pull it out so he could come on her face; but by the time she'd pulled his cock out so only his knob was still in her mouth, he spat out a plentiful discharge of come. She decided, therefore, simply to eat his whole load. More blasts shot out and into her mouth: she gulped each ejaculation down like a quickly drunk glass of water. She kept his spent member in her mouth even after all of his ejaculating was finished, so eager was she to get every last drop of residual come...and she did.

Finally, she pulled her head back and let his limp dick flip out of her mouth. Looking up at him, she asked, "Did you enjoy that, sir?"

"That...was fantastic," he sighed.

"I'm glad you liked it. And now I've gotta pee. Wanna watch?"

"Of course," he said, and followed her over to the toilet.

She sat down, looking up at him and keeping her legs wide open so he could see. She moaned softly as the first drops of piss came pouring out of her urethra and down into the toilet bowl water. He enjoyed hearing the tinkling sound of the golden drink as he saw it splashing against the toilet water.

"Do you feel another poop coming?" the coprophiliac asked.

"No, sorry," she said. After a few more seconds of peeing, she squirted out the last few drops, then reached for the toilet paper. "So, how's the peaceful new life, without a bitchy wife?" She wiped her vulva with the toilet paper, raising her wide-open legs so he could see her stretched-open pussy.

"Well, it's not as peaceful a life as you'd think," he answered.

"How so?" she asked, getting up and flushing the toilet.

"I dreamed about the bitch last night," he explained as she put her arms around his waist and they walked over to the couches. "In the dream, she hit me with her fists, and kicked me in the legs. All because I'm fucking you, of course. She even bit me on the arm. I woke up this morning with bruises, all in the exact places she'd hit me. And look at this." He rolled up his shirt sleeve, showing her his forearm. She saw teeth marks there! "That's where she bit me in the dream."

With a look of terror in her eyes, she asked, "After our business trip, did you have sex with your wife?"

"Yeah, she forced herself on me that Sunday night, out of jealousy. As I fucked her, I fantasized about you to stay hard; I even managed to come inside her. But what does that have to do with my dream?"

"Absolutely everything," she said. "You're gonna need psychic barriers, too."



Camilla Ch. 065



As Camilla waited at home for Father Don Josiah to pick her up for their date on Wednesday night, she thought about the disturbances of her sleep, as well those of her lovers' sleep. She knew she had to be responsible: if Dr. Singh was right that Nigrovum had been feeding on the lusts of her dead lovers, as well as those of Miles Holland, Bob, Candice, and potentially many more, all of those lovers of hers still living had to be warned; for they, too, more than likely, were being affected by the same sleep disturbances...or incubi, if that's what they were.

Before she went out on the porch of her father's house to wait for Don, she sent an e-mail to Dr. Singh, listing all of the lovers she'd had in Vancouver, right from Wayne, her deflowerer, to Bob, in the few POV videos she'd made with him prior to her move to Toronto. She asked Dr. Singh to find out if Mr. Hanson had really died, and if her still living lovers there were OK, or if any of them had also died.

The night before, she'd created psychic barriers to protect not only herself and Candice (whom she'd correctly thought would be too high to remember to do so herself), but also for Mr. Holland, Agape (in case the incubi went after him), and Bob, who was an adamant atheist and didn't believe in ghosts, despite the supernatural scratches he'd received during his dream.

Finally, Father Josiah drove his car up to the curb in front of Agape's house--it was about 8:30, and she'd taken the night off at Club Ritz to be with him. She was wearing her dark blue evening gown, the one that showed off a generous amount of cleavage, from the front and from behind.

She was delighted to see him in his priest's outfit, but he was scandalized to see how slutty she looked, in high heels, whorishly bright makeup, and obviously, no underwear.

"Camilla," he said with his eyes and mouth agape in shock (as well as in arousal). "What are you doing wearing such a dress when I'm in my priest's clothes?"

"Oh, come on, Father," she said as she approached his car. "You don't know? I wanted to please you."

"Camilla, I'm a man of God, not a solicitor of sex. We are going to dinner, and I'm helping you find God."

"And I will find Him," she said, bending over at his car window on the passenger's side, and revealing so much cleavage that almost her entire breasts were exposed, her nipples barely covered, and some areola showing. "I will after you sleep with me." She then opened the door and got in the car.

He took her to an Italian restaurant called Giovanni's, where she, Agape, and Carrie often went together. They got out of the car, and as they walked toward the front door of the restaurant, Josiah was feeling increasingly nervous about how Camilla was dressed, to say nothing of how he, her date, was dressed. About two centimetres of her buttock cleavage was showing. Just as they got to the door, she dropped her purse, and she bent over to pick it up, with her legs spread out wide. He, right behind her, saw her pretty brown puckered anus clearly on display. As they walked in the door, he put his hand over his priest's collar, while she blithely made no attempt to cover either her front or back cleavage.

The maitre d', shocked at how she was dressed, said, "Miss, we don't have a dress code here, but there are reasonable limits as to what is considered tasteful."

Looking in his eyes and working Nigrovum on him, she said, "Really? Is what I'm wearing in such bad taste?" She turned around for him, and turned him on.

"N-no, of course n-not," the maitre d' said; then he showed her and Josiah to a table and gave them menus.

After they ordered, the priest quickly steered the conversation in the direction of religion, as much to mitigate his embarrassment at being seen with so harlot-like a girl as to turn her away from harlotry. Actually, she was somewhat interested in the salvation of her soul, remembering Ravinder's advice about pursuing spirituality, and wanting to protect herself against the emerging dark sides of Nigrovum.

"You must understand how one's soul is saved," Father Josiah began. "Not by your own good works, but by faith."

"But I do believe in God and Jesus," she said. "I'm a Catholic."

"It's not merely about being a member of the Church," he insisted. "We Catholics are redeemed by Christ, but if we fall into sin we can lose that redemption. You must welcome God's grace into your heart, and let the Holy Spirit guide you."

"We're not saved by the good we do, right?"

"That's right, Camilla."

"Jesus saves us; we don't save ourselves?"

"Only Jesus saves."

"But isn't welcoming God into our hearts a kind of good works? Isn't our believing in Jesus just us saving ourselves? It's a choice we make; Jesus doesn't make for us."

"Wait," he said. "You don't seem to..."

"If we can't save ourselves, and only Jesus can; if our salvation has nothing to do with what we do, then what difference does it make if we believe or don't believe, or if we do good or bad?"

"St. Paul in his epistles writes of how we mustn't trivialize moral error," Don explained. "You mustn't assume you can do whatever you like, and that believing alone will get you to heaven."

"Then faith can't save us," she said. "And Christ died in vain."

"No, don't say that. It's not that simple, Camilla. You must be born again."

"I've never understood what that really means: 'born again.' So many religious leaders are 'born again', then they go to hotels with whores...much as you will." She grinned lewdly at those last words.

"Camilla...oh, how can I make you understand? Faith is what saves us, but it's not a passive thing. It's not, 'Well, I'm a confirmed Catholic, I know the catechism, and I agree with Church teaching on an intellectual level; now I can go gambling, swearing, hating, and fornicating, and who cares about the consequences?' Faith is an ongoing process, a journey in which we're tested, as I'm being tested now. One must hang on to faith, through the easy times as well as during the hard times, right until death."

"Still sounds like we're saved by good works to me," she said. "Saved by the good works of faith."

"It's not about doing good deeds; it's about holding on to faith and never losing it."

"But doesn't Jesus say that the ones who go to heaven aren't those who say 'Lord, Lord,' but those who do His will? That is, doing good deeds?"

"Yes, but they're deeds that are informed and inspired by faith in God; and in order to continue to do good, it's a faith we must never lose."

"But I've never lost my faith," Camilla insisted. "I've done bad stuff, and I'm not proud of it, but I've done good, too. I've used this power I have, Nigrovum, to help people, to protect them from evil. Recently I saved a man from his abusive wife, a real bitch who used to hit him and belittle him in public. I believe God gave me this power, from the angels. I just have to make sure I don't misuse it."

"I'd like to believe you," Don said. "But if you use it the way you just did on the maitre d', or use it for procuring sex, then devils have usurped your 'angel power'."

"Why is sex so evil to you? Didn't God say, 'Be fruitful, and multiply?' What about that sexy poetry in the Song of Songs?"

Precocious little tart, isn't she? he thought.

Their food was served, and they began eating. Then he said, "I don't think sex is inherently evil; the good in sex must be understood within the context of marriage. A husband and wife make love to have children and raise a family. They don't have sex for fun."

"I didn't think sex was possible if it wasn't fun."

"A husband and wife may enjoy their passion, as long as they're deeply in love, and theirs isn't an unbridled passion. Otherwise, they'll end up like my parents."

"Now I think we're getting at it," she said.

"At what?"

"The source of your sexual repression."

"What sexual repression?" he asked.

"What happened between your Mommy and Daddy, Father?"

"My father was a womanizer, while my mother was an angel."

"There actually are good mothers out there?" she asked in surprise.

"Of course there are!" he said in equal surprise. "My father was an unrepentant sinner; he'd had many adulterous affairs when he was alive. Oh, how my poor mother suffered! That's my point, Camilla, about the dark side of sex: we're having fun, but we hurt other people when we have that fun. It isn't freedom, it's selfishness. Just before my mother died, she was so proud to see me ordained. She's looked down on me from heaven ever since, watching my every move. If I were to go to a hotel with you, it would break her heart."

"So, that's it," Camilla said. "Your 'proper' behaviour isn't about being a good Christian; it's all about pleasing Mommy."

"Nonsense!"

"That's so sweet," she said. "You're such a good little mama's boy." She beamed at him, a look that thinly veiled a sneer.

"Stop that!" he said, angry with her slurs on his manhood.

"Really, it's adorable," she taunted, reaching over and caressing his cheek. "Keep doing what you're doing, you nice little boy."

He glared at her. "Camilla, that's not funny."

She kept beaming at him. "You sweet little boy...an innocent virgin."

"I'm as much a man as any other," he said, clearly ruffled by her teasing.

"Really?"

"You'll see," he said indignantly. "When we finish our meal, you'll see."

"I can't wait."

********************

A half hour later, they were in a hotel room.

Camilla had found his true weakness: neither his sexual feelings nor his religious faith, but his easily wounded pride. As a child, Don indeed was a mama's boy, due to his constantly interfering, over-protective mother. He'd been made fun of for this during his school years, so his being neither a lover nor a fighter was a sensitive issue for him. Camilla was certainly a tease, but now she found a new way to tease a man into bed.

Though he was assuredly a virgin, Camilla's taunts at his filial obedience to his mother were enough to make him determined to prove his manhood...which he certainly did!

As soon as the door to their room was opened, she let her dress drop to her feet out in the hall, as insouciant of her nudity as he was embarrassed by it. He quickly picked up her dress; while his head was down getting it, she pushed her soft buttocks against his face, rubbing them left and right, and up and down. Then he got up and rushed her into the room. She kicked off her high heels as he locked the door, then they hurried over to the bed.

She lay on the bed on her back, and he pulled down his pants. After removing his pants, underwear, shoes, and socks, he was about to take off his shirt and collar.

"Oh, no, Father," she said. "Leave the collar on; you look sexier that way."

"Camilla, please," he insisted, removing the last of his clothes. "Have at least some respect for my faith." Now as naked as she, he got on the bed, on top of her.

She helped him feed his hard cock inside her wet vagina. As it slid inside, he couldn't believe how sweet the sensation was! And he was only beginning to understand the addictiveness of sex!

When his cock got half-way inside, she squealed loudly. "And you...want to...stay ce...libate? Ah!"

His cock pushed in another quarter of the way. "I'm not...sure I...want that...any more. Unh!" He got all the way in: her A-spot was vibrating with delight.

She screamed as he started thrusting aggressively. "Talent should...not be...wasted. Ah! Jesus says...that's a...sin. Oh!" He was filling in every happy cranny.

"Don't hide...your talent...under a bushel," he panted as he fucked.

"Hide it...in my...bush anytime." she squealed. "Ah!" She had her first orgasm.

"Don't blaspheme," he groaned.

"Oh, Father!" she screamed. "Your cock...feels so...good! Oh!"

"Call me...Don," he panted as he kept pounding away in her ecstatic cunt. Indeed, the only missionary work he'd succeeded at with her that night was their sex position on the bed.

"Oh, fuck me!" she screamed. "Oh, my God! Ah!" She gushed her second orgasm.

"Don't take...the Lord's name...in vain," he admonished in moans.

Now that the bedsheets were soaking with her come, she asked in her tremulous voice, "Wanna...put it...in my...ass?"

"No," he grunted, still fucking. "That's too...sinful for...me."

"OK," she sighed. "But you...don't want...to get...me knocked...up, do you? Oh!"

"Pregnant? No." He pulled his cock out, and she sat up on the bed. She pointed his dick at her breasts and started jerking him off.

"This is...a big one, Father," she sighed, her hand gently stroking the length of his shaft, which was about to blow.

"I'm...going to...," he panted.

"I know," she said, and indeed he did. He sprayed his first blast all over her right nipple; the second shot hit her left breast just under the areola; a third hit her cleavage. She gently rubbed the dripping residue on her belly.

He looked down at her come-soaked body. "That's disgusting," he said, feeling his guilt come back.

"No it's not," she said. "It's fun." Then she giggled lewdly.

Wanting redemption for himself, he said, "OK. I did my part. Now what about you? Will you receive Christ in your heart?"

"Father, I'm already a Catholic."

This answer, of course, didn't reassure him. He wasn't willing to give up on her, though.

******************

On Thursday night, around midnight, Candice went back to her apartment after leaving Club Ritz early. She was a little depressed: though Camilla had made love to her onstage twice that night, Camilla had also made love to Desiree onstage--three times. Candice was swelling with jealousy. Her dope connection gave her more heroin, as well as marijuana, ecstasy, and ketamine; totally assured that Nigrovum would steer her away from endangering her bodily health, Candice got a needle ready.

A sudden knock on the door made her jump. She went to the door and opened it slightly. Dr. Davis was on the other side.

"Dr. Davis?" she asked. "What are you doing here? How'd you know where I live?"

"That's a good question," he said. "I don't know what brought me here, either. I wanted to find Camilla, and I felt myself almost pulled here: is she here?"

"No, she lives about a stone's throw away. Come in." Candice unlocked and opened the door, and he came in. "You had sex with Camilla, didn't you?"

"How'd you know? Did you see us go into a private room at Club Ritz on Monday night?" They sat at her kitchen table.

"No, I just know that Camilla has this 'way' with her lovers. She leaves them with more than just a great lay. Do you want a drink?" Candice poured herself a glass of Jack Daniels and put some ice in it.

"Oh, no thanks," he said. She sat down with her drink and sipped it. Then he looked at her with an uncharacteristically lecherous smile. "Though Camilla isn't here, maybe you and I could..."

"So," she said, smiling back at the handsome man, "you did like what you saw on Friday night, at the party."

"Yeah," he said, snickering lewdly. "You have as beautiful a body as Camilla. I remember."

"Thank you. Shall I call her? The more, the merrier." She reached for her cell-phone.

"Great idea," he said, chuckling.

Candice called Camilla, and she arrived in fifteen minutes.

"Hi, Dr. Davis," she said, hugging him as soon as she got in Candice's kitchen. "So, why the change? You weren't half this willing to fuck on Monday night. What happened to that good family man?"

"Well," he said, frowning. "I thought my wife was a good family woman, until she confessed something to me earlier tonight. After my moment of guilty fun with you at Club Ritz on Monday night, I went home hating myself; to assuage my guilt, I took my wife to bed as soon as I walked in the door of my house. We made mad, passionate love."

The girls frowned slightly, sensing already what he was going to say. His wife has Nigrovum in her blood now, Camilla thought.

"Then I learned that she, the very next day, had gone to a hotel with my next-door neighbour, a handsome marine, a bragging stud of a man I absolutely loathe! She was in tears when she told me tonight, and if it had been anyone else, I would have forgiven her, knowing what I'd done with you, Camilla. But why did she have to be with that fucker! Why him of all men?" Davis shouted.

"Please, Doctor," Candice said. "I have whiny neighbours."

"Sorry," he said, almost in tears now. "She says she was with him just that one time, and that she didn't know what had come over her, some fire burning in her heart."

Camilla knew exactly where that fire had come from, of course.

"I don't believe her, that this was her first time with him," he said, fighting back sobs. "I know I'm guilty of adultery, too, but why did she have to be with him? I did it with you only once, Camilla; who knows how many times she's done it with that asshole?"

Probably only once, Camilla thought.

"Anyway, when she told me, I pretended to be forgiving," he continued. "I didn't yell at her or anything, but I'm sure she saw the anger in my eyes, however hard I tried to hide it. I left the house, having told her I wanted to take a walk. I went to Club Ritz; I got there around midnight or so, hoping to find you, Camilla, but you'd already left. I was so upset, and I so badly wanted to find you, or Candice--to help me find you. Since I knew you wanted me, I thought I could cheat lots of times to repay my cheating wife, fuck for fuck. I was so frustrated, standing outside of Club Ritz, not knowing at all where you were...then I felt something--it was weird--telling me to come right here. I can't explain it, but we're all here now, in a perfect place to have sex."

"I can explain it," Camilla said. "Nigrovum."

"Nigrovum?" he asked. "What's that?"

"It's a power all three of us now have," Candice explained. "It can make you do or find anything you want, apparently. We don't know for sure where we got it from: outer space? Who knows? But it seems to get passed on to people like an STD, only it makes us powerful instead of weak. Nigrovum's why Camilla recovered so fast from the speedball overdose last Friday. It's also why I have a heroin habit, but I don't look at all like a junkie."

"That's so fucked up," he said. "I should examine my blood under a microscope and find out what this is."

"You'll see microscopic black eggs in your blood, piss, and shit," Camilla said. "I know a doctor in Vancouver who's researching this: Dr. Singh.

"Can you give me his e-mail address?" Davis asked.

"Later," Camilla said. "I'm horny as always, and I never found a good lover at Club Ritz tonight. Let's fuck: all this talk about cheating and Nigrovum is ruining the mood."

"No good lovers, eh?" Candice asked. "What about Desiree?"

"Oh, she went home with her boyfriend," Camilla said. "She's as bi as we are. C'mon, guys--into Candice's bedroom."

Into the bedroom the three of them went. Candice had been wearing a white blouse and a long, blue denim skirt, all of which immediately came off to reveal light aqua-coloured lace underwear. Camilla was in a tight white T-shirt and denim shorts, which also came off to reveal her nude body. Davis had been wearing a navy blue suit; though Camilla wanted him to keep it on and take out only his cock, he wanted to take it all off, justifiably worried that her gushing would mess up so expensive a suit.

He got on the bed, lying on his back. Now-naked Candice got on top of him in the cowgirl position, and Camilla sat on his face. Candice slowly fed his cock in her wet vagina, moaning and sighing as it slid in. Davis' tongue flickered with lightning speed against Camilla's rock-hard clit; both girls were sighing and squealing at soprano pitches. The girls kissed and felt each others' tits as they bounced on Davis' face and groin. After tonguing Camilla's pussy for a while, he held her buttocks open wide so his face and tongue could roam all over her immaculately clean butt-crack. His cock massaged Candice's G-spot, and after several minutes of hard thrusting, he made her come. Camilla buried his face in her come soon after.




Camilla Ch. 065



Candice got up, getting his cock out of her pussy, and she put it in her mouth. As her mouth went up and down on his long shaft, he wiped Camilla's come off his face with his fingers and licked them. Camilla brought her breasts to his face; she squeezed them against his cheeks, and he started sucking on her left nipple first, then her right. She had her ass in Candice's face, so as Candice sucked him off, she fingered Camilla's pussy, tickling her G-spot.

Candice's wet lips were tightly wrapped around his cock, and her tongue flickered against his corpus spongiosum, near his knob. Candice's left hand was gently shaking his balls, while her right index and long fingers were probing Camilla's cunt, her long finger gently poking against Camilla's A-spot. Candice licked and kissed the tip of Davis' dick while her left hand jacked him off. Sensing his imminent ejaculation and not wanting to make a mess on her bed, she quickly wrapped her lips around his cock and received his entire discharge in her mouth, not letting a single drop get out.

Meanwhile, she continued fingering Camilla's soaking wet pussy, and Davis kept sucking on her right tit. Finally, Camilla came a second time, covering his belly and Candice's hand with her cooze.

As they sat there regaining their breath, Candice, not wanting her own come to leak out on her bed, asked, "Who wants come?"

"I do, I do," said Davis.

"My cooze is oozing out," she said, opening her legs so he could see. "Lick me clean, Doctor."

"Gladly," he said, then licked the secretion off her sweet pink vulva. "So tasty," he said when he was finished. "I'd better get home. As mad as I am with my wife, she still is my wife, and I'm no better than she is. Thanks for a great evening, girls. Let's do it again some time." He got dressed and left.

"Stay with me tonight, Camil," Candice said.

"Of course, sweetie," Camilla said. "Daddy's drunk in front of the TV; I told him I was here with you."

"Thanks, baby."

"But no drugs, OK?"

"You're no fun, Camil."

"Since when?" Camilla said, then kissed Candice.

After some more brief lovemaking, Candice fell asleep. Camilla then visualized a thick, strong, almost metallic, blue force field surrounding her and Candice; after several minutes of intense concentration, the barrier was made. She psychically sensed the energies of their many deceased lovers approaching, but not able to penetrate, the force field.

"Good," Camilla said to herself. "It's really working." Then she thought about Miles, Agape, Bob, and Davis: they'd need the same protection, so she made psychic barriers for them, too. She made an especially strong force field for Davis' wife, whom she feared was quickly losing control because of Nigrovum. "See, Father Josiah? I told you I use my powers for good."



Camilla Ch. 066



On Friday morning in Candice's apartment, the naked girls woke up in each other's arms.

"Good morning, Camil," Candice said, stretching and yawning. "Thanks for staying over with me last night."

"Gladly, sweetie," Camilla said, kissing Candice on the cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

"Perfectly," Candice said with another yawn.

"Good. The psychic barriers are obviously working. Our troubles with horny ghosts are over. We just have to remember to set up the force fields every night, and we're safe."

"What if we forget one night?"

"Well, then the incubi will bother us again, and we'll be motivated to remember to set up the barriers again the next night," Camilla said; then she took her iPad out of her purse. She went online and checked out her Facebook page, hoping to find some enthusiastic reactions to her recently posted photos.

One of her long-time Facebook friends, Marcel, was a handsome 43-year-old Parisian who constantly complimented her on the sexiness of her pictures. For one new picture of her in a tight-fitting black and white striped dress, he called her 'Deesse! [Goddess!]' For another recent picture, one of her sexily posing in jean shorts and a light green sleeveless top, he typed in English, 'Sweetie-pie!' She giggled her flattery at this new reaction, then said, "Merci, monsieur," as she typed it.

"Who are you talking to?" Candice said as she got out of bed.

"This French guy, really good-looking, always tells me how much he likes my pictures."

"I'll bet he's a stalker," Candice said as she put on some pink underwear. "You know how many creeps are out there in internet-land."

"Yeah, it's obvious he wants to fuck me, but he seems nice; and I'll totally let him have his way with me if he comes over here, or if I go over there."

"Camilla, I really worry about you," Candice said as she put on some jeans and a T-shirt. "One day you won't be so lucky with all these guys you turn on. What if one of these creeps tries to rape you?"

"I'll use Nigrovum on him," Camilla said, totally unruffled. "I'll put his balls in a psychic vice; he'll be begging for mercy."

"Another thing I've been thinking about: we never use condoms--what if we get AIDS, or herpes, or something?"

"I'll bet Nigrovum can cure us. Ravinder said in a recent e-mail that he and his colleague scientists are looking into its healing powers. They're trying to isolate its good qualities and separate them from what it is in Nigrovum that makes people crazy: so far, no luck."

"That's just it, Camil: you're always using Nigrovum as if it were a crutch. What if we use it too much, and using it so much is what makes us go crazy?" Candice sat beside Camilla, stroking her hair.

"We don't use it all that often, sweetie," Camilla said, pecking Candice on the lips. "Don't worry so much about what's gonna happen to us."

"Actually, what's gonna happen to us is exactly what I've been worrying about: I'm lonely. I hate being here in this apartment all alone, knowing you're over there with your Dad and I can't have you. I miss having you in my arms in bed. I feel like I'm losing you." Candice was almost sobbing.

"You're not losing me; you just had me in your arms," Camilla said, kissing her again.

"And missing that tonight will make it hurt all the more."

"Baby, we'll make love onstage tonight, OK?"

"And what about Desiree?" Candice asked with a look of jealousy in her eyes.

"So that's what's bothering you," Camilla said. "OK, I'm sorry about eating her out so many times lately: I won't do it with her so much."

"How about never? And how about with fewer guys, too?"

"Oh, come on, Candice. I need cock like the starving need food."

"I need you like the starving need food."

"Candice, I've been screwing around so much because I'm starting to get creepy feelings for my dad; maybe it's the Nigrovum making me crazy, but I need all the other men to distract me from him."

"I thought us coming to Toronto would make you stop fucking so many men. Your mom said you were with all those teachers because they were substitutes for your dad; if you were with your dad again, you wouldn't need to fuck so much. Now you're fucking so much more." Candice started crying.

"Candice, my mom didn't know shit about me," Camilla said, hugging Candice. "She never listened to me. 'Substitutes for my dad' doesn't come close to explaining why I fucked so many of my teachers back in high school. It's not as simple as that. I worshipped those men, just as I worship Daddy. I'll bet I worship my university profs even more."

"And you'll fuck them too, eh?" Candice asked in loud sobs.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm making you so jealous, baby, but I'm a nympho: I can't help it. There's something about feeling a big cock pumping in and out of my pussy--there's nothing like it. I'm getting horny now just thinking about it. I love you, Candice, and will always enjoy making love with you, regularly, but I can't go without men. Cock drives me wild. What's more, I have my own jealousy: I get crazy every time Daddy sleeps with Carrie, as he did two nights ago when I went out with Father Josiah. Fucking the priest made my jealousy bearable."

"Eww! Camilla, with a priest? Have some boundaries."

"Sex is good for Father Josiah--he desperately needed to get laid, to relieve his sexual repression."

"Giving him Nigrovum will be good for him?" Candice asked with a sneer.

"It will if he uses it well: he's a priest; I'm sure he will use it for good. Dr. Singh is using it for spiritual enlightenment--successfully. Father Josiah can teach me to use Nigrovum the same way; we both can use it that way."

Not if you're fucking all the time, Candice thought. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Camilla, always fascinated with Marcel, her French Facebook friend, saw on her profile page a song he'd written and posted there. An electronic dance, funk-oriented song simply called 'Camilla', it was written in surprisingly fluent English. Marcel sang and played all the instruments, which were mostly keyboard sounds, with a guitar solo and some bongoes. Eager to hear it, Camilla clicked PLAY:

Camilla, you make me feel a raging fire in my heart.

Let's get together; in my life, please play a bigger part.

Your eyes, like cloudless skies--they make me wanna fly to you.

Your lips, so sensuous--you don't know the things they can do.

Your bust, it's so unjust that it's so far away from me.

Your skin, so milky smooth, and there's only some I can see.

Down there, it's so unfair that I don't get to come and play.

What can I do to make you mine? I don't know what to say.

Camilla, you're the ideal, a perfect woman to love.

No better girl exists down here, nor in heaven above.

You are so fine; your place, or mine? I need you in my arms.

As lovely as your photos are to show your many charms,

I need you near, so I can hear your sexy, purring voice.

I must have you, you must have me, we really have no choice.

You are my Muse, I so enthuse to see your lovely face.

You've carved in my heart an obsession I cannot erase.

"He is so talented!" she said when the song ended. "His singing, the guitar solo, the keyboards, the drums: he's amazing! And he did it all for me: I totally wanna fuck him."

"Oh, come on, Camil," Candice said as she came back into the bedroom after brushing her teeth. "You know nothing about the guy. His singing wasn't all that great, you couldn't hear the words all that well, because it wasn't mixed well, and what words you could hear weren't all that well written. He could be a total loser in real life...and he probably is."

"Hey, don't knock my song," Camilla said. "Marcel's a lot better than most of the pervs who comment on my photos. And his English is better than most English speakers'. So many guys just say boring shit like, 'Oh, baby, you so hot.' But he's a gentleman: he'll say things like, 'I wish I could do more than chat with you on Facebook. I'd rather dip my pen in your ink-well, and with your ink, make you read how I really feel.'"

"You think that's better writing?" Candice asked with a sneer.

"It isn't Shakespeare, but it's more creative than what most guys say."

"How do you know he's an OK guy? You've never met him face-to-face."

"I wonder if Nigrovum can give me an idea of what he's like," Camilla said, sitting up on the bed and closing her eyes.

"Here we go again, Nigrovum's the answer to everything," Candice said skeptically. "I thought you didn't use it all that much. One day it'll fail you."

"Shh...just a minute." Camilla began concentrating. She visualized as vividly as she could Marcel's face and personality, remembering it from all the photos she'd seen of him, as well as remembering much of what he'd written to her. Then she visualized Paris, thinking of all the famous places there: the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Seine River, the Avenue des Champs-Elysées, and the Louvre. Next, she visualized a black bird flying all the way from Toronto across the Atlantic to Paris, seeking him out there.

Candice waited quietly but impatiently, annoyed and always jealous.

Finally, after about five minutes, Camilla psychically found him: she could psychically feel his heart beating. To know what his sexual tastes were, she enflamed that heart of his.

Indeed, Marcel in Paris found himself suddenly thinking lustful thoughts for Camilla, right in the middle of his sleep. He dreamed he was making love to Camilla right then: he was fucking her pussy, her ass, her mouth, and her tits. After coming on her face, he dreamed she'd pissed on his chest. She found no other significant desires to worry about.

Satisfied that the worst of Marcel's sexual proclivities was a thing he had for golden showers, Camilla opened her eyes and said, "No worries."

"He's OK?" Candice asked.

"Yep," Camilla answered.

"Are you sure?"

"Reasonably. Apart from the usual things a guy wants to do with me--fucking my pussy, ass, mouth, and tits--he'd like me to pee on him. I have no problem with that: I've done it all before."

"And what if you dream of giving him a golden shower, and you wake up having wet the bed?" Candice asked. "I hope that's one of the nights I'm not in bed with you."

"Psychic barriers, remember?" Camilla said. Then she typed a private message for Marcel and posted it. This is what it said: "I'm very flattered that my pictures please you so much. Really. BTW, I loved your song, it was very sweet of you. Check out my website: http://www.camillacome.com. If you like my Facebook photos, you'll love these."

*****************

That night at Club Ritz, Camilla was finishing a table dance for a handsome forty-something man in the main area of the bar. She put her knee against the bulging erection in his pants, leaned forward, and brushed her soft right arm against his right cheek as she rested her arms on the sofa to his right. The song ended.

"Can I have another table dance?" he asked.

"Sure," she said in her uninhibited 'Kitty' persona, his perfect fantasy. "Why don't you have some lap-dances with me in one of the private rooms? They're lots of fun: I'll let you touch me...all over."

"I'm sure they are fun, but I don't have all that much money," he said. A new song began.

"I can give you one more table dance," she said. "Then I have to go onstage." She put her tongue in his right ear and rolled it around.

"Really?" he moaned at the sweet sensation of her tongue. "I'd like to give you a tip when you're up there."

"Alright!" she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "Thank you. Have the money in your mouth, and you can put it in my pussy."

"I'd like that, but, I'd like it better if I could put it, um...somewhere else."

"Where? Between my tits?" She stood up and turned around.

He shook his head nervously, worried that she would not like where.

"In my butt-crack?" She opened her buttocks wide and showed him her asshole, correctly guessing that's where he wanted to put the tip.

"In your anus? Is that OK?" He was shaking now.

"Sure," 'Kitty' said, not at all bothered by his proclivities. "Be careful, though, OK? You don't wanna give me a paper cut."

"Oh, I'll be careful."

She bent over with her legs spread out wide so he could see her asshole and pussy. Looking back at him upside-down from between her legs, she said, "So, whenever I'm bent over like this, you're not looking at my pussy; you're looking at what I poop out of."

"Yeah," he said with a blush. "Sorry."

"That's OK, I don't mind. Lots of men like my poop-hole, that's why I always show it: in fact, I let men fuck my ass all the time. It's fun."

"Do you really?" he asked, bending forward to get a better look at the pretty brown hole 'Kitty' had insouciantly told him she'd allowed cocks to enter.

"Mm-hmm," Camilla said. "Do you think my asshole is pretty?"

Staring at those puckered, chocolatey anal lips, he panted, "Oh, it's beautiful."

"Thank you," she said.

He was as amazed as he was appreciative that she didn't seem to think his fetish was a perversion. Just to make sure she wouldn't think less of him, he added, "Oh, your pussy's pretty, too. I love your large clitoris."

"Thanks again," she said with a giggle. "Come closer and sniff my butt."

"Gladly," he said, leaning closer, bringing his nose mere millimetres away from her butt-hole, and greedily sniffing away.

"Am I stinky?" 'Kitty' asked, not at all worried if she was.

"Nope; you're perfectly clean," he said.

"So you like the smell?"

"Oh, stinky's OK, too."

"I don't understand how a man could like the smell of my stinky poo," she said.

"Sure, if it's your stinky, why not? A goddess's poo smells better than a mortal woman's perfume."

"You're so sweet," she said, sitting on his lap. She briefly rubbed her buttocks on his happy cock, a thick six-and-a-half inches that she clearly coveted for that night. Then she got up, turned around, and leaned forward, pushing her forehead against his. She started fingering her clitoris and sighing genuine excitement.

"You masturbate a lot when you work, don't you?" he asked, noting how often she'd played with herself during their previous table dances.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed as her finger kept tickling her hard clit. "Don't you?...It's fun."

"Yeah, I do, but not in public, of course."

She, giggling, sat on his lap again, this time facing him. Then she put his right hand on her left hip and let it rest there.

"I thought we were only allowed to touch in the private rooms," he said, surprised and aroused.

"Yeah," she said. "But you're giving me a tip, and I like you, so I'll let you have a little extra fun." The song ended, and she got up, reaching for her underwear and dress.

"So I owe you thirty bucks, right?"

"Yeah," she said as she put on her white lace bra. He put the money on the table as she put her white panties on. She put the money in her purse and put on her dress, a green one with a flower pattern on it. Then she slipped her feet into her black high heels, and she and the man went over to the stage. He sat at the tip rail, and she went onstage.

"And now," called out the DJ, "Let's give a big hand for this very sexy lady...here's Camilla."

Everyone cheered as she began dancing to her first song, "The Rockafeller Skank," by Fatboy Slim. As she danced, she often twirled around, making her dress fly up so everyone could see her panties. She unzipped and removed her dress when the song slowed down, then began dancing in her underwear as the tempo returned to its original fast tempo.

Her second song was "Rock The House", by Gorillaz. At the first chorus, her bra came off with a joyful wiggle of her big tits and screams from the men watching. At the second chorus, she pulled down her panties, with more cheers from the audience. Seconds before the song ended, she took off her shoes.

Her third song was "Double Bass", again by Gorillaz. Completely nude now, Camilla crawled about the stage with her legs wide open so both holes were clearly visible to everyone watching. Of course, she remembered to give her tipper lots of chances to see her from behind, since that's where his fetish was. He salivated at the sight of her liquorice pussy and caramel anus. After making sure he'd got a good eyeful, she rolled on her back with her legs always wide open, again fingering her large clitoris. He just stared in awe.

Three minutes into the song, she crawled over to him, since he had a twenty-dollar bill tightly rolled up and sticking out halfway from his mouth. She put her ass in his face, opening her buttocks wide. He reached forward and carefully slid the bill inside her wide-open anus. She used Nigrovum to guide the money inside without giving her a paper cut; it went in halfway, she closed her anal lips around it, and he gave her asshole an enthusiastic kiss. Everyone watching was cheering.

She crawled back to the middle of the stage so the men could see the money sticking out of her pretty brown asshole. The song ended, she--still on all fours with her ass showing--slowly pulled the bill out of her butt-hole, and then got up. She got off the stage, remaining naked and taking only her purse with her; she went with the man back to their table.

"Twenty bucks," she said. "How generous of you; but you could have paid for a lap-dance with that."

"Putting the money in your beautiful ass was a unique pleasure," he said as they sat down. "Besides, if I pay for one lap dance, I'll want more and more, I'll never stop paying, and I'll soon run out of money. I'm a teacher, and don't make all that much."

"Would you like to fuck me tonight?" 'Kitty' asked him in her bold, but usual relaxed way. "Let's go to your place, Teacher."

"I'd love to," he said, panting at the thrilling offer, "but I'm married. I'll just have one more table dance, and then I'll have to be on my way." He was clearly nervous about being tempted to adultery.

As she began another table dance, she pressed her forehead against his as before, and masturbated again. Maybe we won't do it tonight, she thought; but we will another time, I assure you.

****************

That night, though she hadn't found a suitable lover and lay in bed in Agape's house all disappointed, Camilla at least remembered to set up those psychic barriers so everyone she cared about--Miles, Dr. Davis and his wife, Candice, her father, and Bob--wouldn't be bothered by incubi.

****************

That night in Candice's apartment, she was sad and lonely in bed; a shot of heroin was her only comfort, and Nigrovum tempered the excesses of the drug.

****************

On Saturday night, M. Larre came to Toronto again for another party, at the same house as before, and he'd invited Camilla, Candice, Desiree, and several other strippers. Dr. Davis, hungry for sex and suspecting his wife was with that American marine again, came to the party, too.

Camilla had Larre's cock sliding in and out of her hungry mouth, and two men's cocks were pushing in and out of her even hungrier pussy and asshole. As she felt those three joysticks probing her, she thought, I'm no longer starving.

Candice also had cocks pumping in and out of her mouth, pussy, and asshole; though she didn't receive them with Camilla's level of enthusiasm, her mind was so torn up on marijuana and ecstasy that her body didn't care.

Desiree was sucking a man off as another was giving it to her doggy-style in her pussy; a man to the left of her had her hand stroking his cock.




Camilla Ch. 066



Camilla looked up lewdly into kneeling Larre's eyes as she eagerly blew him. She was on her back, lying on the chest of her ass-fucker. The man fucking her pussy had a thick, seven-inch cock: it was driving her river of a pussy wild. She used Nigrovum to synchronize the men's ejaculations, for she wanted to receive bukkake as much as they wanted to give it to her.

Candice's men came first: on all fours, she swallowed the jizz of the man she'd been sucking, while the man in her ass pulled out and came on her buttocks. The man in her pussy then pulled out just before his orgasm, and she sat up and jerked him off briefly before he came all over her tits.

Desiree had been licking under the knob of her man's cock when he was about to blow his load: he shot blasts of come all over her nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. Then the man fucking her doggy-style pulled his cock out, and he and the man she was jerking off came all over her tits and belly.

Now it was Camilla's turn. She'd synchronized the men's orgasms, which were now imminent: she pulled her head away from Larre's cock, making it come out of her mouth with a popping sound. Then she said 'bukkake'. The men in her ass and pussy pulled out, she got off the belly of her ass-fucker and squatted on the floor. Her three lovers circled around her and began jerking off; Larre was in the middle, her ass-fucker was to her left at 10 o'clock, and her pussy-fucker was to her right at 2 o'clock. She received Larre's jizz on her nose, in her right eye, and on her lips; her ass-fucker came on her left cheek, on her forehead, and in her ear; her pussy-fucker splashed his plentiful load on her right cheek, on her chin, and on her right eyebrow. She screamed and giggled in delight with every splash of come on her face.

The three men looked down at her smiling face. She looked up at Larre and giggled like a little girl.

"How do I look?" she asked him.

"Gorgeously gooey," he said. "Let's get high; what do you say?"

"Well, after what happened last time, I think I'll pass," Camilla said as she got up and went to the bathroom to wash up with the other girls.

"Suit it yourself," Larre said as he took some ketamine out of his suitcase. He and the other men then put on their clothes and chopped lines of the drug for snorting. When the girls came out of the washroom with all the come cleaned off, he asked, "Candice and Desiree, you wanna snort some K?"

"Sure," Candice said, sitting beside Larre and getting ready to snort. Desiree declined, and sat with Camilla. After snorting the K, Candice looked at the other girls and started feeling jealous again. "Camilla, let's make love."

The three girls, still naked, crawled together in a triangle in the middle of the room. The men all snorted lines of K while the girls got ready to lick each other. Camilla had Candice's ass in her face, for Candice made sure the girl she loved wouldn't be licking Desiree's pussy; instead, Candice licked her hairy bush, and Desiree began eating out Camilla's cunt. Though Candice wasn't happy with Desiree's tongue replacing hers in Camilla's bush, at least Candice was involved in the lesbian lovemaking here.

As Camilla's lips tightly wrapped around and sucked on Candice's wet labia, she gently put her finger a few inches inside Candice's anus. Candice's moaning and heavy breathing blew a soft breeze against Desiree's pussy, augmenting the pleasure the hairy girl was getting from Candice's tongue, which quickly vibrated against her hard clitoris. Excited by the virtuosity of Candice's electric, if somewhat reluctant tongue, Desiree now frantically lapped Camilla's soaking wet vulva, moving in long licks all the way from her clit to her perineum.

Camilla slid her finger a few inches deeper inside Candice's rectum, and put her tongue as deep inside her vagina as she could, reaching for her G-spot. When she found it, she wiggled her tongue against it; Candice's moans quickly changed to squeals. Those squeals vibrated against Desiree's pussy, getting it wetter and wetter. Her hairy pussy tickled Candice's face. Desiree slid her fingers inside Camilla's cunt, fingering her G-spot and poking against her A-spot. Meanwhile, Desiree licked Camilla's asshole, her tongue delightfully roaming over all the wrinkles. The men just sat back and enjoyed the show, regretful that their spent members weren't getting a rise out of the spectacle.

Soon, Candice came, and Camilla licked away the oozing secretion. Then Desiree gushed a waterfall all over Candice's face; she didn't mind, as long as it wasn't Camilla's face. Finally, Camilla came, right when Desiree brought her mouth down to suck on Camilla's clitoris, so Desiree's face was as flooded with cooze as Candice's was. Everything that goes around, comes around.

One of the men who was watching the girls was Larre's dope connection, a man in a Toronto mafia family. He was so inspired by the cunnilingus he had just watched that he decided to try it on his girlfriend, whom he'd assumed was mingling innocently with the people on the first floor of the house. Though he had no qualms cheating on her, he assumed she'd never do that to him. He would soon realize just how bad an assumption that was.

After looking all over the first floor for her, he went back up to the third floor, looking in all the rooms. He was shocked to see Dr. Davis in bed with her, fucking her missionary-style! The two paramours were too busy fucking to notice his quiet entrance in the bedroom, and he went back out just as quietly as he'd come in. Equally quiet was his rage.

"He's that doctor from last week," he said to himself. "Mustn't ruin the party with a murder; I'll kill him later." He went back into the room with Camilla and fucked her again.

Later that night, everyone in their room was too tired and stoned to go home; the host of the party let them sleep there. Before falling asleep in Candice's arms on the floor, Camilla set up those psychic barriers for everyone there, including Davis. A good thing it was that she'd remembered the doctor, for the mafia man was about to put a bullet in Davis' head as he slept with the mafia man's girlfriend in that bedroom. The mafia man put a silencer on his gun and aimed it at Davis, but he felt something mysterious that was inhibiting him; he simply couldn't pull the trigger! Frustrated, he assumed it was the ketamine weakening him. He left the bedroom and the house with his girlfriend, resolving to get Davis another time.

Camilla woke up at 8 o'clock that Sunday morning, leaving Candice sleeping there on the floor. She put her clothes on and snuck out of the house without telling the others. Anxious to see Father Josiah at Mass, she didn't want Candice stopping her.

*********************

That Sunday afternoon, Camilla invited the priest out for lunch with Agape and Carrie at a cafe near the church.

"That was an interesting sermon today, Father," Camilla said of his homily on Adam and Eve, the Fall, and Christ's divine rescue that restores us to God's grace. "But I don't quite agree with what you said."

Not again, Josiah thought, then asked politely, "Oh? What do you object to?"

"Well," she explained, "if Adam and Eve had God's grace in the beginning, they were morally perfect, right?"

"That's right," he said.

"Then if they were perfect, how'd they get imperfect? If they were originally without sin, they should have known not to listen to the serpent about eating the forbidden fruit. They would have known to listen only to God."

"It was Adam and Eve's free will that made them fall," Agape added.

"How does that make a difference?" Camilla asked. "If we know that touching a hot burner on a stove will hurt us, we won't touch it. The fact that we have the freedom to touch it won't make us touch it. Only if we were deceived into thinking touching it would be somehow good for us, would we do such a crazy thing."

"Adam and Eve were deceived, Camilla," the priest said.

"Only if they were already imperfect enough to be deceived," Camilla insisted. "If they were morally perfect, they would never have believed the devil's lies. If Adam and Eve were naive enough to believe Satan's lies, God didn't make them perfect. If there was no perfect Creation, what grace was there to fall from? If there was no Fall, what's the point in having Jesus' divine rescue, bringing us 'back' to a perfection that had never existed in the first place?"

"Camilla, I think you're offending Father Josiah," Carrie warned.

"No, these are good, challenging questions," he said, hiding his anxiety at not only her questing mind, but also her tempting body. "You have a very smart daughter, Agape. She'll make a brilliant philosopher one day."

*********************

That night, Camilla was in her bedroom when she received a call from Candice on her cell-phone. "Hi Candice," she said into the receiver.

"Camil, I'm lonely," Candice said. "Where'd you go this morning? I missed you all day."

"I went to church to see that cute priest," Camilla said. "Sorry for not telling you."

"Camilla, don't get it on with that priest anymore."

"See? Your disapproval is what made me leave without telling you. I didn't try anything on him, anyway." Hearing Candice start to cry, she then said, "Hey: wanna come over?"

"Do I ever! When?"

"In about a half hour, OK? I'm sure Daddy won't mind: he's already tipsy from his bourbon. I'll get him smoking some weed and put some more E in his drink. Wear your black dress; Carrie was wearing a similar one today at church. Don't forget to make your hair black. See you soon. Bye." Camilla put her phone away and raced downstairs into the living room where Agape was, as usual. "Daddy, Candice is coming over for a party, OK?"

"Yeah, sure," he said in slurs. "Will Carrie be here too?" He belched.

"Oh...yeah, she should be here in a while, too," Camilla lied, taking her father's glass with her into the kitchen to fix him another drink. "She said she might come."

"Good. These parties are getting sexier and sexier. I don't know what I'm doing...or whom I'm doing." Indeed, he strangely didn't seem to mind if Carrie didn't show up, since black-haired Candice's charms were so enticing.

Camilla mixed some ecstasy in his bourbon, took his glass back into the living room and gave it to him. "I'll roll another joint for us." She got her bag of marijuana and papers ready.

"Oh, great," he said, then sipped his Jim Beam.

Candice arrived about thirty-five minutes later, with her hair turned black with the aid of Nigrovum. Agape was already feeling the ecstasy, and when Candice walked into the living room, he looked at her with desire in his eyes.

"How do I look, Mr. Mennon?" Candice asked with a grin.

"Ravishing," he said. "You look so much like my girlfriend; it excites me, and also makes me feel guilty to be so excited."

"Oh, enjoy yourself, sir," she said. After taking a toke, Camilla gave her a beer and the lit marijuana cigarette she'd just made. "Thanks." Candice took a few puffs, then gave the joint to Agape.

After he'd taken a few puffs of the doob and given it back to Camilla, she said, "Look, Carrie's here." Camilla then used Nigrovum to make Candice's face look like his girlfriend's.

"Carrie," he said, captivated by her beauty.

"Let's make love," Candice said, taking off her dress and revealing her naked body to him. He got on the floor as usual, and she got on top of him, unzipping his fly and pulling out his cock, which she'd made hard with the aid of Nigrovum. She put it in her pussy and rode him like a cowgirl.

Camilla took a few more puffs from the marijuana cigarette and watched them make love. Then she took a swig of her beer; she was getting quite wasted herself, wasted enough to feel her inhibitions fade away. If only that were me on top of him, she thought. She knew he was more accepting of seeing Candice on top of him, as long as he was too stoned to resist: how stoned would he have to be to accept seeing Camilla on top of him?! She was high enough to be able to contemplate such an idea with little guilt. She drank more of her beer, already down to half of the can.

After bouncing on Agape's cock for several minutes, Candice came, then got off of him. She put his cock in her mouth and started sucking him off. Camilla leaned forward to get a better look. She salivated at the sight of Candice's wet lips slipping up and down her father's shaft, too stoned and drunk to be shocked by her unnatural feelings. She drank more of her beer. The sound of her father's moans of pleasure excited her all the more. If only she could have been the one giving him that pleasure! Why did incest have to be a sin?

Just then, Agape came in Candice's mouth: she swallowed most of it, only a little trickling down the right side of her mouth. Camilla's sighs were as audible as her father's. Candice went over to Camilla to take another puff from the joint. Camilla gave it to her and went to the bathroom to pee.

While Camilla was sitting on the toilet, Candice took out some ketamine from her purse and offered a line to Agape. "Wanna snort a line?" she asked him.

Since he and Candice had exchanged bodily fluids, the Nigrovum was making him somewhat sympathetic to her fondness for drugs. "Sure, maybe just this once," he said in slurs. He belched again. She chopped lines for both of them, and they snorted them. They were so stoned that they didn't even notice his spent penis still hanging out of his pants. When Camilla had come out of the washroom after cleaning her pussy, the first thing she saw when she came back into the living room was her father's penis: her high made his member all the more noticeable.

"Let's make love, Camil," Candice said.

"OK," Camilla said; she took off her T-shirt and shorts. Not wearing underwear, she was now as naked as Candice. Camilla crawled towards her father, who was sitting on the floor, still with his penis hanging out of his pants.

Candice crawled over to Camilla's ass. She stuck her finger inside Camilla's vagina, massaging her G-spot. As her finger went in and out, she licked Camilla's asshole. Camilla sighed and moaned, staring at Agape, who was completely disoriented from the alcohol and drugs. Candice's finger and tongue switched places: now her tongue was reaching inside for Camilla's G-spot, and her finger went deep inside Camilla's rectum. Camilla's sighs changed into squeals. Candice's licking and fingering continued for several more minutes. Camilla just stared at her father's penis.

Then Candice pulled Camilla towards her, making her lie on her back. Candice got on top of her, sucking on her right breast and fingering her clitoris. Camilla moaned and sighed, turning her head around to see her father, who now got up and sat on his chair. His penis was still showing.

Candice had been making love to Camilla now for about twenty minutes or so, and while Camilla was wet and excited, she still hadn't come. Candice, annoyed at how distracted her lover was, turned her face to look at her; she kissed Camilla softly on the lips several times, then went down and buried her face in Camilla's muff. She sucked on Camilla's labia, tickled her clitoris with her tongue, and fingered her anus. This continued for several more minutes, and Camilla still hadn't come. Exhausted, Candice just got off her and lay on the floor, feeling the effects of the ketamine coming on.

Camilla hadn't come, but she was very horny. She got up and went over to see her dad, whose penis was still hanging out of his pants. Camilla wasn't as stoned as the other two, so she could use Nigrovum effectively; she was stoned enough, however, to feel very little inhibition. Kneeling between his legs, she looked up into her father's eyes: the ketamine was taking effect on him, though she didn't know that he'd snorted it. She used Nigrovum to make him believe he was seeing Carrie's face in front of him instead of his daughter's. She forgot to make her hair look black, though.

"Carrie?" he asked in a weak voice.

"Yes, Agape, my love," she said. "Would you like me to do oral on you?"

"Oh, I'd love that," he whispered. "Your hair's blonde: did you dye it?"

"Yes, I did, my love," she said, suddenly realizing what she'd forgot to do. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, it's OK," he said. "Black is better, though."

She looked down at his dick, and used Nigrovum to make it harden. She moved her head down to take it in her mouth.

Suddenly, Candice shouted, "Camilla!" Camilla's lips were a millimetre away from the tip of her father's dick.

She jumped up, and went over to Candice. Horrified at what she had been doing, she sat with Candice, who held her trembling body.

Confused Agape felt his erection go limp, and in his embarrassment he put it back in his pants and zipped them up. Then he got out of his chair, went upstairs, and collapsed on his bed, peaking on the ketamine there.

Camilla eventually calmed down and went to sleep in Candice's arms. Candice stroked her sleeping lover's hair as she enjoyed the rest of the ketamine high, before finally falling asleep on the living room floor with Camilla.

Needless to say, Camilla had forgotten to set up those psychic barriers: had she known what the consequences of her lapse in memory were to be, she would have known how important it was never to forget--even one night.

********************

The mafia man learned where Dr. Davis' house was, and he snuck inside that Sunday night while the family was asleep.

Davis was sleeping on the living room couch, for he and his wife had had a bitter fight about where he had been on Saturday night; accusations of adultery had been flying both ways. With the silencer on his gun, the mafia man pointed it at Davis' head and pulled the trigger. "That's for fuckin' with another man's woman," he said as he watched the blood pour all over Davis' face, then he left the house as quietly as he had come in.

********************

Meanwhile, Miles Holland had another assault from his now-succubus wife while he was dreaming, the last his body would ever receive.

He dreamed she'd hit him over a dozen times with a baseball bat: on the head, on the shoulders, on the back, and on the legs. His dead body lay there, in front of the TV, with actual bruises and broken bones. Nobody had come to visit him at his home for weeks after, so when his worried brother broke down the front door to find him, he vomited all over the floor to see Miles's decomposed corpse lying on the living room couch.



Camilla Ch. 067



Monday was Labor Day, Camilla's last day of summer vacation before beginning university. That morning around 11 AM, she and Candice woke up with a blanket over them to cover up their nakedness; obviously Agape, who was in the kitchen, had woken up earlier, gone down into the living room, and seen the naked girls sleeping there on the floor; he then put a blanket over them. 

"I'll bet your dad was more than surprised to see us like this," Candice said as she reached for her dress.

"I'll bet he's thinking about other things right now," Camilla said, remembering how she almost committed incest with him the night before; then she put on her clothes.

"About what happened last night between you and him," Candice said. "I'm..."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Camilla said in visible agitation. I need distractions from Daddy, she thought; I need men...lots of men.

When they finished getting dressed, they went into the kitchen. Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of him, Agape was clearly hungover and in terrible pain. Camilla simply touched him on the shoulder and Nigrovum did the rest: within seconds, he felt much better.

"What the hell?" he asked. "My hangover just died suddenly. If I didn't know better, I'd swear your touching me on the shoulder made me better."

"We have friends in high places," Camilla said. "Comes from our Catholic faith, you know." The girls sat down with him.

"Whatever," he said. "What happened last night? These parties of ours just get wilder and wilder, and more and more surreal. Was it all a dream, or was it real? I can't tell."

"We were all really high, Mr. Mennon," Candice said. "You could have been hallucinating."

"Could be," he said. "Was Carrie here? She sure seemed to be."

"No," Camilla said. "You must have been hallucinating, or dreaming."

"What I remember of what happened," he said, "I sure hope it was all a dream." 

I wish it had been all a dream, Camilla thought.

******************

It was a rainy afternoon, Candice had unhappily gone back to her apartment, and Camilla sat in her bedroom, depressed by the weather she saw out her window, and troubled by what she'd almost done with her father the night before. To take her mind off her worries, she got out her lap-top and got on Facebook, eager to know what Marcel thought of her porn website. She sure found out.

She and Marcel were instant messaging each other. She was as wet as he was hard.

"Do my pictures please you, Marcel?" she typed.

"Oh, sweetie: I'm enjoying some of them right now," he typed. "Your body is even more beautiful than I could have imagined."

She typed, "LOL". Naked, she was masturbating on her bed.

"Are you on camillacome.com now?"

"Yes," she typed. "What are your favourite categories?"

"'Ass', 'Public', and 'Peeing' for your pictures. I've seen and love all the videos, except for the BDSM ones: I can't bear to see you getting hurt. POV is so wonderful--I can fantasize that I'm making love with you, sweetheart." At his chair, he was masturbating, too.

"LOL."

"I didn't reply to you until now because I wanted to see absolutely everything first," he typed. "I wanted to know your lovely body as well as you do: now I know it thoroughly."

"LOL. Name your favourite gallery so I can see what you enjoyed seeing." Her pussy was soaking from her fingering.

"In the 'Ass' category, there's a gallery called, 'Wicked Weekend'. Click on that one; I'm looking at it now."

"OK, just a minute. I have only one free hand. You know what my other hand's doing."

"My 'other hand' is doing the same thing, sweetie."

"LOL," she typed. "I'm on it: 'Wicked Weekend'. Which are your favourite pictures?"

15.jpeg, 17.jpeg, and 18.jpeg."

She looked at all three pictures, and giggled in excitement at what she saw: pictures of her by a backyard swimming pool on the grass. In the first, she was standing and bent over; in the second, she was on all fours; and in the third, she was kneeling while spreading her buttocks wide open with her hands--all three pictures showcased her pink pussy and pretty brown anus. "Marcel, do you want to put your thing in my bum?" she typed.

"Yes," he typed. "Also, my lips and tongue."

"You want to put them in my pussy too, though, right?"

"Of course, as well as in your pretty mouth, and my manhood between your titanic tits."

"LOL."

"I worship every inch of you," he typed.

"What's your favourite POV video?"

"It's in the 'Peeing' category; there's one called 'When You Gotta Go, Go on Me.'"

"LOL," she typed, then clicked on the video. When clicking PLAY, you see naked Camilla squatting over 'you', looking sensually into 'your' eyes, and pissing all over 'your' chest and neck. "You' look down and see the line of golden juice spraying out from her urethra, and her hand has her pussy spread wide open so 'you' can see everything. When she's finishing, she squirts a few more short splashes out, making a high-pitched yelp with each squirt. 'You' say thank you to her, get some toilet paper, and wipe her pussy dry. Then she thanks you. THE END. 

"So, you want me to give you a golden shower?" she typed.

"Oh, yes, my goddess," he typed.

"LOL."

"Are you still touching yourself?"

"Oh, yes, my god: I'm almost there; please type something sexy."

"I'd love to make you lactate when sucking on your creamy breasts," he typed. "I'm sure your milk is the sweetest. Then I'd lick your pretty vulva till you came, and lick away all the sweet nectar there, for your whole body is candy." 

A brief pause, then she typed, "Oh, my God! I came: thank you, Marcel."

"My pleasure."

"Have you come yet?"

"Almost: say something sexy, my goddess."

"I want you to shoot your come all over my face; then I'll wipe it off with my fingers and suck them dry, as I wish I was doing to your big cock right now."

Another brief pause. "I came. Merci."

"De rien. Let's do cyber-sex again...soon." 

*************

That night, Camilla had come home from Club Ritz early, since it was another disappointingly slow night and she lacked a lover. At the same time, she was almost glad she didn't have a new lover, for she was worried about whether Nigrovum was a blessing or a curse. Why hadn't Dr. Davis or Mr. Holland shown up? She'd sent out psychic signals for them to come, and that usually worked, but not this time. She didn't send out any for Father Josiah, for she was feeling a little guilty about fucking him. Indeed, guilt was the dominant mood of that whole night for her.

So guilty did she feel that not only did she set up particularly strong psychic barriers to protect all of her living lovers, as well as Agape and Davis' wife, but she also did something she hadn't done since just after her escape from that Satanic mansion by Grouse Mountain, in the Vancouver area: she prayed for spiritual help.

God, she prayed, though I doubt so much of what the Church teaches about You, I do believe in You, and I need Your help. I'm so confused. I don't want to hurt anybody, but I know I have. People have died because of me. I don't want that to happen anymore. I believe You gave me this power: please help me to use it well. All I want to do is please people, to make them feel good. If You don't help everybody I fuck, at least help those I care about the most: take care of Candice--make her give up the drugs; don't let Mrs. Holland's ghost hurt Miles; keep Davis and his wife together, even though I fuck him sometimes; help Father Josiah to stay a good Christian, in spite of how I tempt him; help Dr. Singh to understand Nigrovum better; and most of all, keep my Daddy well. He's such a beautiful man...all of him. Save me from myself, God: don't let me commit incest with my Dad! O, God, I think I'm going crazy. Don't let Nigrovum drive me mad the way it did Mr. Baker and Leroy. Please help me. [Doing the Sign of the Cross] In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

*************

At last, her first day of university had come! She woke up on Tuesday morning after having had a most pleasant sleep: this encouraged her to think that God was really going to help her. Indeed, there were no disturbances from any incubi the night before, and she'd had delightful dreams about loving her father in a purely innocent way. 

This encouragement made it feel safe for her to be slutty again, so she decided to put on a school-girl kind of outfit: a white blouse, plaid miniskirt, black shoes, and white socks. Though there was no uniform she needed to wear, she knew many men thought her dressing like that would look sexy, and she always wanted to please the men she liked...teachers! 

She briskly walked along the York campus that morning, eager to get to her first class, a Comparative Literature course--Introduction to Erotic Literature. She hurried into the classroom, and sat at the front row of desks, next to a handsome, black-haired man in his early fifties. He had streaks of grey hair that gave him an aura of sophistication: though she certainly liked that, she hoped her professor would have exponentially more of such a sexy aura. Her mature classmate was certainly delighted to have such a pretty girl sit next to him; she had no problem encouraging his lust, but was hoping her prof be even worthier of having his lust encouraged.

He came into the classroom, and she wasn't disappointed with what she saw. The professor was in his late forties, a good-looking brunet who also had some distinguished grey mixed in. He wore a navy blue suit and tie, a choice of clothes that gave Camilla a pleasant reminder of how Dr. Davis dressed. The professor got up to the podium and began speaking to all the students.

"Good morning, everyone. I am Dr. Lawson; this will be our first lecture on erotic literature."

"My God," she said, her heartbeat already accelerating. "He's a doctor?"

"Of course," the man next to her said. "All university teachers are called doctor. Professors have PhDs: Doctors of Philosophy."

"That is so hot," she said, being all the more reminded of her sexy, life-saving Dr. Davis. (Her mature classmate, who was working on a doctor's thesis of his own, was as excited to know she was turned on by PhDs as she was to know her prof had one.) Camilla put her right hand up her mini-skirt and tickled the area of her white panties where her clitoris was. 

"I'm Brad," the man beside her said, reaching out his hand to shake hers.

"Camilla," she said, never taking her eyes off Dr. Lawson and shaking Brad's hand with her left hand. 

"Nice to meet you," he said; then, curious to know why she hadn't used her right hand to shake hands with him, he looked down and saw what her right hand was actually doing. She didn't notice his curious eyes, because she found Dr. Lawson's infinitely sexier. Brad didn't mind, though: he just watched her hand go to work.

"There is a crucial difference between erotica and pornography," Dr. Lawson continued. "Put simply, erotica is sexually stimulating work with artistic aspirations; porn, however, is just quick thrills. There is, of course, a lot of grey area between the two, and differing opinions exist as to which writing is more the one and which writing is more the other. If, however, on reading the books assigned in this course, you were hoping merely to satisfy your lower appetites, you may be disappointed. The writing is titillating, to be sure, but it's also real literature. These are artistically valid stories and poems, with fully-developed characters, themes, and symbolism, just as in 'cleaner' literature."

"He's brilliant," she panted. "What a mind." Her panties were soaking, and Brad was drooling.

"You will find much satire and social commentary as you read, not just lots of sex," Lawson continued. "When we come to the writings of the Marquis de Sade, for example, you will find pages of writing devoted to Sade's exposition of his philosophy of amorality and anti-religion before you finally get to a scene with Justine being tied up and whipped; however, a cheap porno novel is just a chain of sex scenes to satisfy prurient interests. Similarly, in erotica in film, Last Tango in Paris has a fully-realized story, with considerable lengths of time devoted to the plot before finally getting to a sex scene; on the other hand, in a pornographic movie, considerable lengths of time are devoted to explicit, non-simulated sex, before getting to any kind of a plot, if one was ever even intended. In erotic art, a painting like Goya's Naked Maja is stimulating to look at, but it's also to be appreciated aesthetically; pornographic pictures, on the other hand...well, few people are interested in the photographer's manipulations of light and shade, are they? The writing in this course is like these former examples, not like the latter ones. So those philistines among you now, who just want hot writing to help you masturbate, you may want to drop this course."

"I'll show you...I'm better than...the horny ones," she sighed, her hand now inside her panties and her index finger massaging her G-spot.

Brad seemed totally unaware that a professor was even in the room.

"We will read translations from among the works of Sappho, Catullus, and Ovid," Lawson went on. "Also, there will be such poems as 'The Flea', and 'Elegy XIX: To His Mistress Going to Bed', by John Donne. As I mentioned before, we'll read Justine, by Sade; we'll also read Fanny Hill, by John Cleland, Les Bijoux Indiscrets, by Denis Diderot, and Venus In Furs, by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. Remember, people, this is a serious course, not mere fun."

"It'll be...both for..me. Oh!" she sighed as quietly as she could, then came in her panties.

"It'll be seriously fun for me, too," Brad whispered in her ear. 

She got out a small plastic bag from her purse and gave it to Brad. "Can you hold this under my legs for me, please?" she asked him. "I need you to help me clean up my mess." She giggled lewdly.

"Gladly," he said, holding the bag just under where her come was dripping from off her panties. 

She slowly and carefully pulled off her panties, kicking off her shoes to make it easier to get her feet through the leg-holes. Satisfied that she'd gotten only a minimum of come on her socks, she cupped the drenched panties in her hands and, careful not to let any of the other students see what she was doing, gave the panties to Brad. He surreptitiously put them in his briefcase, not at all caring about the mess they were making there. She also secretly gave him the plastic bag, which was half-full of her come. Again, he gladly risked augmenting the mess in his briefcase by putting the bag in there. 

Soon after that, the class was over, and she walked out of the classroom, followed closely behind by Brad.

"So, you like profs, eh?" he asked her.

"Oh, yeah," she said. "Smart is the new sexy."

"You don't say," he said. "You know, I'm working on my PhD. I should have it by next year."

"Good," she said with a half-interested smile. "When you have it, and when you're teaching, let me know, and maybe we'll get together. In the meantime, enjoy my panties and bag of come. Bye." She then walked away, enjoying the breeze as it caressed her uncovered vulva, and eager to find her next classroom.

******************

That night, after looking out the window and seeing rain showering down all over the neighbourhood, Camilla got into bed, set up the psychic barriers, and sent out a Nigrovum signal: a beam of light aimed at the hearts of all those she cared for, wishing good health to all of them. "See, Father Josiah?" she said to herself. "I am using Nigrovum for good. Pleasant dreams, everyone."

******************

Meanwhile, lonely Candice sat in her room, falling asleep after taking some downers she'd gotten from her dope connection earlier that night at Club Ritz. She'd needed them after so many hours high on cocaine that evening, stripping without Camilla there. 

******************

Regretting her choice of an Introduction to Philosophy course her father had recommended, Camilla switched it for an Introduction to World Mythologies course, taught by Alex, the man she'd fucked in Queen's Park. She'd made the switch just in time to buy the textbook and sit in for the first lecture on Wednesday afternoon.

She sat at the front of the class, eagerly waiting to see sexy Alex. When he arrived and came to the front of the classroom, he almost tripped at the podium on seeing her there. Her lewd smiling at him did nothing for his now jolted nerves, of course. 

Seeing how obviously fearful he was of his 'rapist/rape victim', she used Nigrovum to calm him: she visualized cool water being poured over his flaming heart. Surprised at how relaxed he'd suddenly become, he began his lecture. 

"Welcome, everyone, to 'Introduction to World Mythologies'. I am Dr. McVie."

"Doctor," she whispered, looking at him and licking her lips.

After a few seconds of nervous hesitation, he continued. "We'll start today b-by looking at, and comparing, creation myths from around the world. Creation myths are generally symbolic, allegorical narratives. There are creations ex nihilo, as we have in the orthodox Christian interpretation of the Bible. Ex nihilo is Latin for 'out of nothing', the creation coming out of a god's words, as in the first chapter of Genesis. Sometimes, the creation comes from a god's bodily secretions."

"He knows Latin," she whispered as she began touching herself again. My high school teachers were nothing compared to the smart sexiness of professors, she thought; Dr. McVie can have my bodily secretions anytime.

"An example of creation from bodily secretions is in Egyptian myth, when the god Atun created the gods Shu and Tefnut by sneezing, or ejaculating after an act of masturbation," Alex said.

"I, a goddess, can relate...to that," Camilla said, still fingering her clitoris. 

"Other myths of creation include those out of primordial, formless chaos," he went on. "There are also world parent myths, involving either the splitting up of an androgynous universe into a sky-father god and an earth-mother goddess, or the dismembering of a god, and making his body parts become the sky, clouds, stars, sun, earth, and sea. Other creation myths involve emergence from another world, like a baby coming out of its mother's womb; or perhaps we can have the 'earth diver' myth--a god wants an animal to go into the infinite cosmic ocean, find some sand or mud, and use it to make habitable land. Other myths, for example both Greek and Hindu, involve a cosmic egg."

"A microscopic black egg, by chance?" Camilla whispered. 

"In the Manu Smrti, among the Hindu scriptures, we read that, 'that seed became a golden egg'. Inside the egg was Brahma, the creator god. An Orphic Greek myth tells us that Eros, or desire, was hatched out of a silver egg laid by Night, a goddess even Zeus was i-in awe of." Remembering Camilla, he was getting a little nervous again.

I lay little black eggs, and I'm a goddess, she thought as she eyed her teacher lasciviously; Is that close enough for you, my awed Zeus? Her finger was now deep inside her wet cunt.

"When we speak of primordial chaos, we don't mean riotous disorder; we mean the formless void from which all things come, even the gods," Alex said. "This void isn't mere nothingness: it's paradoxically nothing and everything, for it defies categorization--it's ineffable. If you like, you can consider it the Nirvana of the Buddhists; in Hinduism, it is Brahman, the pantheistic ground of all being. In the Rg Veda 10:129, we read that there was neither non-existent nor existent then, a perfect description of Brahman. 'Desire rose in the beginning, desire, the primal seed...' 




Camilla Ch. 067



I want your desire to rise, she thought; desire, your primal seed. 

Soon after, the lecture ended. He rushed outside, hoping to lose Camilla in the crowd of students shuffling through the halls before they got outside. Using Nigrovum, she made the students part like the Red Sea, giving her a clear and easy path to follow him outside and into the middle of the campus. There, too, it was full of people busily walking everywhere, hurrying to their next classes; but it was an open enough space for her to catch up to him easily.

She tapped him on the shoulder. "Hi, sir," she said cheerily. "Remember me?"

"Yes, of course," Alex said, trying to hide his nervousness behind a veil of politeness. "How are you?"

"Horny, of course. Wanna fuck me?"

"Camilla," he said fearfully. "Please, don't make any trouble for me here. Let's just have a professional teacher/student relationship, OK? If you trouble me, I may have to report you to the Dean. You don't want me to do that, do you?"

"You're not going to do that," she said. "You won't need to." She stared intensely into his eyes, visualizing again cool water poured on his heart to calm him.

"You're not going to make me r-ravish you again; not in front of all these people, are you?"

"Not if you don't want me to," she said. "I'm sorry if I scared you last time; I won't do it again, I promise."

"Good," he said. "I'll see next time in class then." He tried to walk away, but she psychically immobilized him. "More of your black magic?"

"Sir, I don't want to hurt you; I just want to please you. Relax and enjoy yourself. You know you want to fuck me."

"Camilla, please. Not again. I was actually traumatized last time."

"You won't be this time; it'll be fun, I promise you."

"You'll only force me to make it fun for you," he insisted, fidgeting and frustrated that he couldn't move any more than his shoulders a few millimetres at a time. "I love my wife; you'll never change that."

"She'll never know what we did."

"How do you know that? Will your witchcraft ensure that?"

"I wouldn't call it witchcraft," she said, affecting a pout at his resistance, yet actually turned on by it all the more. "I can have us make love right here, in front of everybody, and we'll never get in trouble. Really, I've done it before. I'll immobilize everyone in the area, not let anyone else come in, and keep our watchers from talking. Then, when we're done, after we leave the 'scene of the crime', I'll make them forget who was fucking here. Now, just relax and let's have some fun."

"Camilla, no!"

"Oh, come on, sir. Enjoy yourself." She psychically massaged his heart and his inner ears, making him feel as though she were blowing in them. This got him excited; an erection started to bulge in his pants, and he was breathing heavily. Then she visualized a blue light, visible only to her and Alex, covering the whole area of the campus where she and Alex could be seen by the others. This light was just like the one she'd created for her Adam and Eve POV video with Bob: the people inside couldn't move, and were forced to watch her and Alex. Those outside the blue light, unable to see it, were frustrated at mysteriously not being able to walk any further than the border of that invisible force field. 

"What the hell?" a woman outside the force field said as she and many other confused students bumped against its border. "Why can't we walk any further?"

Why can't I move? a man inside the force field thought, staring at Camilla and Alex, and completely lost as to why he was able to look only at them. When Camilla started taking off her clothes, however, he didn't mind so much.

Alex, enflamed with lust by Camilla's psychic manipulations, unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard cock. He felt himself wanting to, but he knew he wanted to only because she was making him want to. Resigned to his hopeless inability to stop her, he just decided to enjoy the sex, hoping it would be over soon and that she was right in predicting that they wouldn't get in trouble. 

Her white blouse fell to the grassy ground, revealing her big, bra-less breasts, which she wiggled gleefully before him and all her forced voyeurs. Then her miniskirt came off, revealing her bush. After quickly and impatiently removing her shoes and socks, the naked girl lay on the grass on her back. He then got on top of her. 

She raised up her stretched-open legs as he slowly pushed his huge erection inside her dripping-wet pussy. With each inch he went inside, she let out a sigh of a higher and higher pitch, and with louder and louder volume. 

Most of the female viewers watched in disgust at what they were being forced to see, completely clueless as to what alien power was causing this most lurid spectacle. Most of the male viewers, though equally clueless, simply enjoyed the show, irritated only at how they couldn't pull their hard-ons out of their pants and jerk off. 

Alex's cock was now all the way inside her pussy, which was already flooding the grassy surroundings with her come. He thrust away aggressively and quickly, hoping to tire her out as soon as possible.

"Oh!" she screamed. "Dr. McVie, fuck me! Fuck me! Ah!"

"So, this is...what you wanted, eh?" he panted as he pounded away inside her. "You wanted...to get fucked! Well, here, then...get fucked, you little...whore! Unh!" 

"Yeah," she squealed. "I'm a...bad girl. Sorry, I can't...help myself. Ah!" She gushed a second breaking of her vulva levee. 

He squeezed her big tits hard, hoping his aggressiveness would hurt her, and make her not want him to fuck her again. Though indeed her breasts hurt, his squeezing didn't discourage her from wanting him in the future; she simply considered it her punishment for being so bad. 

"Oh, my God! Ah! Your cock...feels so...good! Oh!" She came a third time. The grass was drowning. "OK, pull it out; fuck my ass. Oh!"

He pulled his cock out, then cupped her come in his hands. She rolled over, on all fours. She pushed her ass out so her asshole would be the focus; he smeared her come all over his erection, then used the remainder of it to lube up her rectum thoroughly. "Are you ready?" he asked, panting and almost enjoying it.

"Oh, yeah," she moaned. "Shove it up my poop-hole, now!"

"OK, you fucking bitch," he said, pushing the tip of his dick against her welcoming anal lips. "You wanted an ass-fuck: you've got it! Unh!" He slid his cock in two inches, hoping it would hurt her. It didn't: she loved it!

"Oh, yeah!" she groaned as she looked back in his eyes. "Deeper, sir, deeper! Ah!" He slid in all the way. As much as he despised her for using him in this way, he had to admit that fucking her pretty asshole was a lot of fun!

He thrust deep inside her rectum, his cock massaging her anal walls thoroughly. Again, he reached forward and grabbed her tits. He sniffed her fragrant hair, which smelled of raspberries. 

She fingered her clitoris as she felt his cock impaling her. He pinched her nipples: all of these sensations made her come a fourth time. 

The women watching wanted so badly to close their eyes; the men watching wanted so badly to unzip their pants. 

That bitch is amazing, one man thought; why did I have to wear such tight jeans today? 

The only woman who was enjoying watching the sex, one who had a crush on Dr. McVie, at the sight of his cock, had creamed her jeans without even needing to touch herself. 

"Are you...gonna come soon?" Camilla asked with a shaky, high-pitched voice. 

"Yeah," Alex grunted. 

"Pull it out," she sighed. No sooner had his cock come out of her asshole had she turned around and received his manhood in her mouth. He was standing, and she, kneeling, looked up in his eyes as his shaft went in and out of her gluttonous mouth. Her tongue licked her come off his cock, and her saliva-soaked lips were wrapped tightly around his long pole. After kissing and licking his knob and dick-hole, she deep-throated him, feeling some of his pubic hair go up her nostrils. She gently shook his balls back and forth, and left to right. Her tongue tickled his corpus spongiosum, and she could psychically sense his imminent ejaculation. 

She pulled her head back, releasing the knob of his cock out with a popping sound, then she briefly jacked him off, always keeping his cock pointed at her face. Finally, he blew his load: one jet of jizz splatted just to the left of her nose, a half-centimetre under her eye. 

"Ah!" she screamed in delight, then giggled lewdly.

A second spouting hit her in the right eye, right in the middle where her iris was. 

"Oh!" she squealed.

A third splash hit her left cheek, a fourth went unexpectedly in her wide-open mouth, and a fifth hit her right nostril, going in a half inch.

"Unh!" she grunted in salacious surprise. She looked up at him as he slapped his spent penis against her cheeks. She loudly giggled at each spank of his sausage on her face. When the last of his cooze was oozing out of his dick-hole, she gently rubbed the remainder against any still-dry parts of her face. Looking up at him one last time as he put his cock back in his pants and zipped himself up, she asked in giggles, "How do I look?"

"Like the pretty, gooey-faced little whore that you are," he said in contempt. "Are you satisfied?"

"Yes," she said, getting up and feeling hurt by his slurs. "You can go; don't worry about all these people. They won't remember it was you."

"Good," he said. "See you next class." He walked away quickly. Though he hated her for jeopardizing his marriage and career, he had to admit it was the best fuck he'd had in a long, long time.

Camilla took some Kleenex out of her purse and wiped her face clean. When she was reasonably presentable, she put on her clothes and raced for the nearest washroom. As soon as she was inside a building, she made the force field disappear.

"Finally, we can move," a woman said, now running to her next class and hoping she wouldn't be late.

"Who was that slut?" another woman said as she hurried to class with her friends. "And who was the man? I'm sure I've seen him before, but where? Now his face is a total blank." 

"She was so hot," a man said to his friends as they were leaving the area. "But her face is just a blur now; how weird." 

"Yeah," one of his friends said. "Where'd she go? I've gotta meet her."

"What a handsome professor that was," the one woman who enjoyed watching the sex said to herself as she hurried to a washroom to clean herself up. And now I don't even remember who he was, she thought; Strange. I remember his cock vividly, but not his face. 



Camilla Ch. 068



On Thursday afternoon, as Camilla sat in the classroom for the first lecture of her Introduction to Shakespeare course, waiting for the professor to arrive, she thought about the unnatural feelings for her father that had been growing like a cancer in her heart. She'd always loved Agape dearly, but something horrifying was happening inside her. Was the Nigrovum twisting her love for him into a grotesque shape, or was it merely bringing to the surface something she'd always felt, but had repressed? She was convinced that more male lovers would be needed as distractions from Agape. Indeed, she hoped her soon-to-arrive professor would be handsome and intelligent enough to qualify.

Another strange thing she'd noticed about herself: she'd never been in love, not once in her whole life. She'd had crushes on many of her teachers, of course, but that was never serious love. She may have said, "I love you", to Mr. Grisham and to Carl, but both men knew she wasn't in earnest; her passionate outburst was just part of the aftermath of some great sex. Candice was in love with Camilla, something Camilla could easily see, and she loved and cared for Candice, too; but there was no way Camilla would ever return Candice's kind of love to her. Camilla didn't understand why she could lust with such intensity after so many men (and women), but not fall in love, like normal people. She would soon learn why...sooner than she thought.

Finally, her professor walked into the classroom. She was thrilled to recognize him: she'd given him those table dances at Club Ritz on the Friday of the preceding week! Though she was sitting at the front row of desks, he never recognized the face of the pretty blonde who was always smiling at him so lasciviously. He just introduced himself as Dr. Lee, and began his lecture on A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"The central theme of the play is the foolishness of being in love," he said. "Demetrius foolishly loves Hermia, who doesn't love him; the woman he should still love, Helena, foolishly dotes on him after he's dumped her. A flower that the mischievous fairy Puck fetched for his king, Oberon, has in it a magical love-juice, which causes both Demetrius and Lysander suddenly to fall in love with Helena; the two enchanted men then follow her around the forest at night like silly school boys with a crush on someone for whom, only an hour or so earlier that night, they hadn't felt any amorous affection. The love-juice is also used on the Oberon's wife, the fairy queen Titania, who, in the play's prime example of love's foolishness, falls for the idiot Nick Bottom, whose head Puck has just changed into that of an ass!"

"He's brilliant," she said to herself. So many profs to fuck, and so little time, she thought.

"The word 'dote' is used more times in this play than in any of Shakespeare's others," he continued. "Today's mothers may dote on their children, and thus spoil them; but in Shakespeare's day, 'dote' had a much stronger meaning--it came from a German word that meant 'to be foolish, imbecilic, or deranged'. So to dote on our beloved is to be maniacally in love with them."

After class, she followed Dr. Lee out of the building and walked closely behind him on the campus.

"Dr. Lee?" she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Yes?" he said, turning around.

"You don't remember me, do you?" she asked.

"Of course I do," he said. "You were sitting in the front row of my Shakespeare class just now."

"I don't mean that. Last Friday night, at Club Ritz. You saw me naked, remember?"

He looked up and down at her, needing a little time to make the mental adjustment of remembering the naked girl he'd seen in the dimly-lit strip joint, and linking that image with the girl who was standing before him now, in the bright light of that sunny afternoon--a girl wearing tight blue jeans and an even tighter white T-shirt. Then he recognized her. "Oh, yeah," he said.

"I let you put a twenty-dollar bill in my anus, remember?" she asked in the voice of her sexually carefree 'Kitty' persona.

"Yeah, I remember," he said, his heartbeat accelerating and his penis hardening. Also remembering his love for his wife, he said, "I-I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get to my office. I may h-have students there who need to ask me questions."

"OK, I'll come with you." As they approached the building where his office was, she asked, "Do remember the offer I made to you on Friday night?"

"Oh? What was that?"

"Would you like to have sex with me?" 'Kitty' asked this as if she were merely offering him a beer.

"Whoa, wait a minute--"

"You can do me anally, too, if you like," she whispered in his ear as he opened the door to the building. They went in and walked over to an elevator.

"Look," he said, pressing the 'up' button. "You're very beautiful and sexy, but--"

"Thank you," she said with a giggle as the door opened.

"But I'm married."

"I know: you told me last week." They got into the elevator, and it started going up.

"Well, that should t-tell you my answer."

"Are you happily married?"

"Y-yes, of course."

"Your eyes tell me you'd still like to have some fun, sir."

"Yeah, well...I-I mean--" The elevator reached his floor.

"Look, it's OK, sir," she said as they walked out of the elevator. "If you don't want to do me now, I understand." They reached the door to his office. "My offer still stands, in case you change your mind. Now that I know where your office is, and I know your office hours, I'll pay you a visit sometime soon. Bye, sir." She tickled him under the chin, and left.

Dr. Lee went into his office, locked the door, sat at his desk, and held his head in his hands. "What am I going to do?" he asked himself. He loved his wife, but Camilla was so, so exciting! What's more, he'd heard a story about an anonymous blonde tart having sex with an unidentified English prof, right on the York campus the other day. Was she that girl? he wondered.

As Camilla rode the elevator back down, she thought, Well, there's another dapper distraction to take my mind off of Daddy; speaking of distractions, I'll have to get ready for my date with Father Josiah soon. He'll help me spiritually, and I'll help him physically...

******************

That night, after having had dinner at Giovanni's, Camilla lured Father Josiah back to that same hotel they'd been to the last time. In their room, she lay naked on the bed while he, wearing a suit and tie, sat on the side of the bed, shaking with guilt over what he was about to do.

"What's happening to me?" he asked.

"What's wrong now, Father?" she asked.

"The same thing as always, of course. I'm a priest, about to have sex with you. What am I gonna do?"

"Get undressed and in get bed, of course."

"Stop being so relaxed about this!"

"Why don't you start being relaxed about it?"

"Because it's wrong!" he said, almost in tears.

"The Church really needs to end mandatory celibacy for priests," she said, massaging his shoulders.

"Even if they did, I'd still be sinning. We aren't husband and wife; you're my paramour. God can only be looking down at me with disapproval."

"I don't think it's God's disapproval you're worried about. I think it's your Mommy's," she said, taunting him again.

"Stop that. You know it isn't just about her. I'm sinning against God, as are you--not that you care, of course."

"I do so care," she said, reaching over and loosening his tie from behind him. "I told you at dinner tonight that I prayed to Him a few days ago, to stop me from going too far with my fucking. So far, so good."

"So far, so good?" he asked, looking back at her and sneering. "Seducing a priest isn't going too far, eh?"

Thinking about Agape, she said, "Father, you don't know how far I could go with my fucking if I'm not careful, believe me."

"Believe me, what we're doing is far enough, with me. You're already not being too careful."

"Yeah...and you're still here."

"Yes, something's making me stay. It feels like some alien intelligence has taken me over--it's obviously Satanic."

Don't speak ill of Nigrovum, Father, she thought.

"This desire I feel for you; the pleasure you gave me last time--it's like a drug I'm hooked on," he said. "It wouldn't be so bad if we were in love."

"Love's more dangerous than lust, Father."

"How so? God is love."

"Not agape love, remember? I mean possessive love: it makes us foolish, imbecilic, and deranged. 'Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind'." She blew in his right ear.

"Maybe the blindness of love will be my defence on Judgement Day," he said, pulling off his tie. "Let's just get this over with." He unbuttoned his shirt.

"Let's not rush though it, Father," she said, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants as he took his shirt off. "I can screw a long time." She pulled his pants and underwear down, and he got on the bed. She got on top of him in the cowgirl position, briefly masturbating him to get him hard enough. When he was as stiff as a pole, she slowly came down on him, feeding his cock inside her wet pussy. "Ah!" she screamed when he was in three quarters of the way.

As she bounced up and down on his cock, she leaned forward and put her hands on the bed above his shoulders. Looking up at her, he likened her in his mind to Nut, the Egyptian sky goddess; this would have made him Geb, the earth god, whose phallus was pointed up at her. These imaginings eased Josiah's guilt, for Nut and Geb were married. If he were to give up being a priest, and take Camilla as his wife, making her a committed Christian in the process, maybe he could redeem himself before God and his late mother.

"Nut...Nut," he moaned as her soaking pussy slid up and down on his rock-hard shaft.

"What's that?" she asked in squeals. "Do your nuts hurt?"

"Sky-goddess," he answered. "Nut!"

"Thank...you," she sighed. "Ah!" She came.

Having come a few more times over the next minute of so of fucking, there was a lake of come all over his crotch. She psychically sensed an ejaculation of his own on the way, so she got up, releasing his cock. Then she moved back to the foot of the bed and went down on him.

His prudishness made him feel shocked at first to see her sucking his cock, since such an act had nothing to do with procreation; but her slippery lips and vibrating tongue quickly replaced that shock with excitement. Her fingertips tickled his balls, and he could feel his cock swelling like a geyser ready to blow. Then it did. She'd been deep-throating him at the time, so his discharge went right out of his cock and down her throat. She looked in his eyes salaciously as she gulped down every last blast of his come. That she so eagerly ate it disgusted and aroused him at the same time.

She lay beside him in bed, and he put his arm around her. They lay there for several minutes, catching their breath.

"Maybe I should quit...the priesthood," he panted.

"Don't do that," she said, getting up and looking down at him in unpleasant surprise. "You won't be sexy to me anymore."

"Camilla, why do you have to be so wicked?"

"If you want me to keep coming to church, you'd better keep preaching there. If you want to continue your relationship with me, let's take it to the next level then."

His hopes of marrying her now rising, he asked, "What's the next level?"

"Come to my home this Saturday night, and we'll have a party with my daddy. You can get to know my family better that way. I'll invite my friend Candice, too."

"Sounds great," he said enthusiastically. "I'll be there."

"Wear your priest's outfit, though. I like it when you're dressed like that."

"OK, but let's make it an innocent party, please."

"Sure. No problem," she lied.

Before going to sleep, they both prayed. He prayed for guidance and forgiveness from God, as well as for Camilla's so wayward soul. She prayed for him, Candice, Bob, Dr. Singh, Miles, Dr. Davis, and especially her father, begging God to keep her from getting physical with him. Then she set up those psychic barriers to keep the incubi away from all of them, and went to sleep.

******************

Another restful sleep encouraged Camilla that God was helping her, and she felt she could continue to enjoy her sexuality with little inhibition.

On Friday afternoon, Camilla sat in for the second lecture of her Introduction to Erotic Literature course. Dr. Lawson was talking about the poetry of Sappho, in particular her 'Hymn to Aphrodite'.

At times, he would mention certain words of the poem in its original Greek to explain better the nuances of the text. Such words included "athanat' Aphrodita" ("deathless Aphrodite"), or "pai Dios" ("daughter of God [Zeus]").

Awed by his knowledge of Greek, she unzipped her jeans and started fingering herself. Brad, sitting beside her again among the front row of desks, was distracted by the unzipping sound and watched her masturbate.

Imagining herself a goddess, as Josiah had, Camilla saw herself as Aphrodite in the poem, immortal, daughter of sexy Zeus, and coming down from heaven to earth on a chariot, to help ailing Sappho (or Candice, as Camilla saw her).

Though by the end of the lecture she hadn't orgasmed, her pussy was wet, and she followed Lawson out of the classroom, out of the building, and on the campus.

"Dr. Lawson?" she said.

"Yes?" he asked. "Do you have a question about the lecture?"

"No," she said. "I just wanted to tell you how amazing I thought you were today. You know Greek?"

"Yes," he said. "To teach these poems, I have to be familiar with the original tongues. One can't rely on translations only."

"Wow. How many languages do you know?"

"Well, apart from ancient Greek and Latin, I'm also fluent in French and German."

"You are so smart," she said, beaming up at the tall man, and doing a Nigrovum-style scanning of his mind to know what his particular sexual tastes were.

"Why, thank you," he said, looking down at her tight, light-green T-shirt and admiring her breasts. She was obviously bra-less, for her nipples were happily protruding. Remembering his manners and looking in her eyes again, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Camilla."

"That's a lovely name."

"Thank you."

"What do you do when you're not studying, Camilla?"

"Oh, I dance at Club Ritz," she said with a lewd smile.

"Isn't that a strip joint?"

"It sure is," she said with a 'Kitty' smile, knowing he'd like that. "I'm a lap-dancer there."

"Really?" he asked, getting a hard-on.

"Yep. I'll be there tonight, starting at six." Her inviting smile was always on her pretty face.

"Maybe I should come over and see you there."

"Sure, I'd love to strip for you, sir," she said in a high-pitched, gleeful voice. "Come on over and have some fun." She giggled.

"OK," he said, looking at her tits again. "I'll be there."

"OK, see you tonight...Doctor." This last word she said as though it were the sexiest word in the world, since it reminded her of Dr. Davis. There's yet another distraction from Daddy, she thought as she walked away.

After she left him, he continued walking to the building where his office was. Fooling around with a tart like her's what got me divorced ten years ago, he thought; oh well, I'm already divorced, so being with Camilla won't matter now.

******************

Dr. Lawson arrived in Club Ritz at about 11 PM. He saw Camilla talking to Candice at one of the tables by the bar. Camilla was wearing a grey, one-piece spandex outfit with bell-bottoms and matching high heels, since she'd learned from her scan of his mind that he liked tight-fitting clothes on girls. Indeed, Lawson loved what he saw her in, and ogled her from behind, waiting for her to finish talking to Candice before making his presence known.

"Thanks again for shaving my pussy today," Camilla said to Candice. Having a taste for shaved women, Lawson was thrilled to overhear that.

"My pleasure. So, tomorrow night at your dad's house, right?" Candice asked.

"Yep," Camilla said. "I fuck the priest, you fuck Daddy."

"Oh, Camil: why the priest?"

"Remember what almost happened last time between me and my Dad? I need a distraction from him, and Josiah's the only available man at the moment. I don't know where Davis or Holland are, and I'm kinda worried about them."

"Well, I guess doing a priest's the lesser of two evils."

"Exactly," Camilla said. "See you then."

"OK," Candice said, then left to get ready to go onstage.

"Hello, Camilla," Lawson said.

Camilla turned around and saw him. "Dr. Lawson! Hi!" She got up and hugged him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Then she stepped back so he could see her outfit, and turned around for him. "Do you like what I'm wearing, sir?"

"Like it? I love it," he said as he looked up and down at it. "Very sexy, especially in the crotch area."

"Why, thank you," 'Kitty' said. "So you like my cameltoe?"

"Do I ever."

"Well, if you like this, you'll love me when I'm nude. Come on, I can't wait to show you: let's go into a private room." She took him by the hand and led him into a room. They sat on a couch and waited for the next song to begin, which conveniently was in the next few seconds. "OK," she said, getting up and turning around when the next song began, "I guess it's time to show you what my body looks like." She giggled as she unzipped herself at the top front of her outfit, revealing her cleavage. "I hope you like what you see."

"I'm sure I will," he said, already breathing heavier.

She pulled the top of her outfit down quickly, wiggling her large breasts with a grin as soon as she'd revealed them. Then she pulled the outfit down to her waist, just about to let him see her shaved pussy. He leaned forward in impatient anticipation of seeing that hairless crotch. She pushed the outfit down to her feet, grinning even wider as she let him see her shaved pussy. She straightened up and pulled her feet out of the outfit. Now naked except for her high heels--which she'd keep on for him, since she knew from the mind-scan that he had a fetish for them--she asked with an ear-to-ear grin, "What do you think?"

"You are a goddess," he panted. "Aphrodite."

"Deathless daughter of God?" she asked.

"Absolutely."

"You are so sweet." She then turned around so he could see her buttocks, and sat on his lap. Rubbing her soft buttocks against his pointy erection, she could tell his thick cock was at least six and a half inches long.

"I love the fact that you're shaved," he said. "In hairless harmony with ancient Greek fashion."

"Thanks," she said. "Would you like to touch me there?"

"We're allowed to?"

"Sure," she said, putting his hand on her wet vulva. His index finger tickled her clitoris, which was as hard as his dick. "Oh, sir, that feels so good!" She looked back in his eyes, her own telling him how much she coveted his cock.

"Your callipygian behind feels good, too," he grunted in response to her aggressive grinding.

"Speaking of my behind, I wanna show you my goodies." She got up, bent over and spread her legs out wide so he could see her asshole and pussy. Since she knew from her Nigrovum mind-scan that he often fantasized about anal sex, she had her hands on her buttocks, opening them wide and pointing her ass at his face so her asshole would be the focus of his attention; she also smiled at him to let him know she was more than willing to let him fuck her in the ass. "Do I look pretty down there?"

"You give the expression 'candy-ass' new meaning," he said as he stared at her nougat-coloured anus. "May I touch?"

"Of course, sir," she said. "Touch whatever parts of my anatomy interest you. I'm not shy at all."




Camilla Ch. 068



"I can see that," he said, then his fingers gently poked against her anal orifice and opened it. She giggled her approval.

"Do you like anal sex, sir?"

"I've never tried it, but I'd love to."

She turned around, rubbed her breasts against his face, and sat on his lap, this time facing him. He continued fingering her asshole, and she looked in his eyes, always grinning. "Would you like to have sex with me tonight?" 'Kitty' asked.

"You're a dream come true, aren't you?" he asked. Camilla giggled at this. Of course I'd love to; now, normally strippers suggest they're willing to have sex with a customer just to suck more money out of him." His finger gently pushed its way inside her asshole.

"That's true," she said, perfectly content to let him finger-fuck her ass. "But I'm not gonna suck money out of your wallet. To prove I'm on the level, I'm gonna suck something else." She slowly unzipped his fly. "How would you like me to perform fellatio on you, right now?" She put her hand in his underpants and grabbed his cock. She knelt down between his legs and undid the button on his pants.

"I'd love that," he groaned. His cock came out of his underwear with an upward-swinging rebound against the top elastic. Her head eye-level with his cock, she gleefully gasped with her eyes and mouth agape at the gloriously large phallus before her.

"Sir, it's beautiful," she said, almost crying with lecherous joy. Looking up in his eyes with a lewd smile, she kissed and licked his knob, at the dick-hole. Then she put his cock a third of the way inside her mouth and wrapped her wet lips tightly around it. Her tongue tickled the underside as she sucked. Her eyes were always locked on his as his shaft went in and out of her mouth.

He looked down at his cock-sucker with a mixture of delight and disbelief. How did I get so lucky? he wondered.

Her tongue curled into a U around his bulging corpus spongiosum, tightly hugging it. Her hand played with his balls. As she looked up at him, her eyes solicitously asked his, "Is my mouth pleasing you, my lord and master?" His answers were all yeses, in loud grunts.

Feeling his ejaculation approaching, she went up and down on his cock faster and faster. Her tongue vibrated quickly against the underside of his cock, just under the knob. Finally, he blew his load right when she was deep-throating him, and she gulped down every drop of his jizz. When his penis was completely limp and spent, she still had it in her mouth, and she never took her eyes off of his. She then pulled her head back, released his penis, and reached for her purse. She took out a small bottle of mouthwash and gurgled it, then spit it out in the sink by the toilet. He did up his pants, and she went back to put on her outfit.

"Did you enjoy that, sir?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "You're a virtuoso. What shall we do now?"

"Take me to dinner, then take me to bed."

*********************

They were in Giovanni's within the next fifteen minutes.

"This is a nice place," Lawson said. "And it's open 24 hours: how convenient."

"Yeah," Camilla said. "I come here often with my Dad."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's such a sweet man. I love him so much."

"You're Daddy's little girl, aren't you?"

"I sure am. He's the best."

"How so?"

"When I was a child, I was really skinny and plain-looking."

"How could that be?"

"Oh, I was, believe me."

"Well, however you looked back then, you sure blossomed."

"Thanks. Daddy promised me I would."

"He was right."

"Anyway, when I was in kindergarten and grade school, the other kids were so mean to me: they used to call me 'skinny, ugly skull and bones'. They'd chant it at me over and over during recess until I cried." She almost choked up then.

"Kids are so cruel," Lawson said.

"My daddy was the opposite. I came home from school one day bawling my eyes out after hearing an especially nasty attack from those kids. In the living room, he took me in his arms and had me sit on his lap on his chair. He held me close and rocked me gently back and forth. The kind words he said made all the pain go away, like magic." Now she was smiling in what looked like a religious ecstasy.

"What did he say to you?"

"He said, 'Camilla, you couldn't be ugly if you laboured at it night and day. Your baby blue eyes prove it. If you screwed or twisted your face in some absurd way, it would still be the cutest, most adorable face ever. Don't listen to those kids at school: they're the ugly ducklings, not you, and they don't know anything. When you grow up, however, you'll be the most beautiful swan in the pond. Every male Leda will worship you, and you'll break their hearts, for none of them will ever be worthy of you."

"He said all that?" Lawson asked.

"Yeah," Camilla said. "I have a photographic memory, so I can remember things like that perfectly. Of course, that was such a sweet, healing speech, how could I ever forget it? I never knew what he meant by 'Leda' till I started reading the textbook for my mythology course. Now that I know, I can appreciate all the more what he really meant, and how poetically he said it." Again, that eerily rapt look in her eyes came back. "His name's Agape, you know? That's Greek for 'love'. My Daddy's so magical."

The look in her eyes, and what it was implying about her feelings for Agape, began to trouble Dr. Lawson; so he tried to change the subject. "You're magical, too, Camilla," he said. "Your body sure put a spell on me."

"And where did I get my beautiful body from?" she asked. "My daddy, of course--genetically, I mean."

"And what about your mother?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I got a few things from her, too." Her smile quickly turned into a brief frown that troubled Lawson as much as her previous ecstatic talk about her father, an ecstasy that just as quickly returned. "I have Daddy's blond hair and blue eyes. I like to think I got my brains from him, too."

"Like Athena from Zeus, eh?"

"Yeah!" she said enthusiastically.

"I'm starting to get jealous," he said. "You seem to like your father so much, there's no room for any other men."

"Oh, no, sir. I'm sorry. You're hot, too."

Looking at her incredulously, he asked, "I'm hot, too?"

Embarrassed by her slip, she then said, "I mean, I like you, too, but in a different way. W-with him, i-it's innocent love, of course; but with you, it's pure lust." Her expression now changed from ecstatic love to a smile of appetite. "When you lecture, do you know what I do at my desk?"

"What's that?"

"I masturbate." She quickly looked around, hoping no one else in the restaurant heard her.

"I'm flattered," he said. "But I hope you still listen in class. Remember what I said: my course isn't for cheap thrills."

"Oh, I know," she assured him. "I remember what you said about Aphrodite today."

"Really?"

"Sappho wanted the goddess to come down from heaven to earth on her chariot, and be Sappho's ally."

"Very good," he said.

"But I wanna be your ally tonight."

*******************

After dinner, they went to his apartment. As soon as they went into his bedroom, he sat on the bed, still with his clothes on, while she stood by the side of the bed, and swayed her hips in a sinuous dance as she slowly unzipped her outfit. He was about to take off his shirt, but she put her hand on his hands.

"Leave your clothes on, sir," she said. "I wanna be the only naked one. CMNF, you know?"

"But how will we fuck?" he asked.

"We'll unzip your pants and whip it out when the time is right. For now, just look at my body, please." She pulled down the outfit, revealing her tits a second time to him, then pulled it down to her feet. She pulled her feet, still with the high heels on, through the leg holes, and brought her shaved crotch up to his face. He put his hands on her ass, squeezed her buttocks, and started licking her wet pussy. He opened her buttocks wide and fingered her asshole.

Then she turned around, spread her legs wide open, and bent over. He buried his face between her buttocks and started licking her asshole. She moaned and fingered her twat. He opened her asshole wide and slid his tongue as far in as he could, about a centimetre. It was perfectly clean, and his tongue got to know every wrinkle.

After a minute of this tonguing and fingering, they got on the bed, her leaving her shoes on. She got on all fours, and he went behind her, getting ready for some doggy-style. He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out.

"Thanks for leaving your heels on," he said as he aimed his cock at her vaginal orifice. "They're a fetish of mine."

"My pleasure," she said. He began sliding his cock inside. "Oh!"

"Unh!" he grunted as his cock bored its way in a few inches deeper. "That is...so tight!" He was now in three quarters of the way.

"That is...so big!" she said of his cock, which was now all the way in, poking at her A-spot. "Ah!"

He was thrusting aggressively, his knob giving her A-spot most loving punches. After half a dozen jabs, she came her first gushing. Her whistle register screams were piercing his ears.

"Holy shit!" he panted. "You're a...wet one, aren't you?"

"Sorry. Oh!"

"That's OK," he said as he continued fucking her. "I kind of...like it."

"I'll sleep...in the...wet spot...if you like. Ah!" She came again.

"No...I'll sleep in it...gladly." A lake of come to rival the one on Josiah's crotch was forming.

"Wanna fuck...my ass?"

"Yeah," he said, pulling his dick out of her cunt. He got her come on his hand and put his finger in her ass, smearing the cooze all over her rectal walls. Then he aimed his cock at her asshole, and pushed the knob against it.

"Push it in, sir," she said, looking back at him. "Push it in." He slid it in a third of the way. "Oh!"

"That...feels incredible," he grunted as his cock went in an inch further. "The tightest...of tight. Unh!"

He went all the way in, and started pumping. She loved how the bigness of his manhood occupied her whole anal tunnel, stretching it and stimulating it. He looked down at her ass, adoring how pretty her anal lips looked as they embraced his cock.

"I'm going...to come soon," he moaned.

"Pull it out," she said with a gleefully shaky, high-pitched voice. "Please."

"OK." He pulled it out, and she turned around. He stood up on the bed, and she was kneeling before him.

Pointing his dick at her face, she jerked him off briefly before he blew his load. He shot his first spray on her nose; she squealed and giggled. His second blast hit her right eye; she screamed and winced in delight. The third shot hit her lips, the fourth, her left cheek, and the last, her chin. Looking up at him and grinning, she asked, "Do you like the way I look, sir?"

"The prettiest facial ever," he panted. She giggled. His come dripped off her nose, lips, and chin, and onto the bed.

"When I come to class, sir," she said, the come on her lips spraying on the bed as she spoke, "what do you want me to wear?"

"That grey outfit," he said as he lay down on the bed, happy to be bathed in her come. "Always."

"How about if I buy different coloured outfits, you know, for variety."

"Sure." He lay in the wet spot, licking her come off the sheets, and soon went to sleep.

"He's got Nigrovum in him now," she whispered to herself. "I'll have to watch out for him, too." She set up the psychic barriers for all the usual people, now including Lawson; then she prayed to God again, for extra protection for everyone. With all this recent praying, she figured she'd be safe on Saturday night.

********************

She returned home late Saturday morning. That afternoon, she read a private message from Marcel on Facebook. He said he would come to Toronto on the following Saturday.

Thrilled to read this, she replied that he should meet her in Club Ritz, where she would give him free lap-dances. She included the strip joint's address.

After sending the private message, she said, "Good. And that's one more distraction from Daddy. With all these cocks to satisfy me, I should have nothing to fear tonight, or any night when I party with him."

********************

That night, before Father Josiah arrived at Agape's house, Camilla gave her father, already wearing black pants, a black dress shirt from the just cleaned clothes she'd washed for him. He wore the black shirt over his white undershirt, leaving the top button undone.

Perfect, she thought as she looked at how he was dressed. Then Josiah arrived, in his priest's clothes as promised.

"Am I looking in a mirror?" the blond-haired, blue-eyed priest said to Agape as he opened the front door.

"Sure seems that way," Agape said. "Come on in. Camilla, could you fix a drink for Father Josiah?"

"Gladly," she said. "What would you like to drink, Father?"

"Whiskey on the rocks, please?" Josiah said.

"Sure," she said, then she went into the kitchen as the men went into the living room and sat down. She broke an ecstasy pill in half and dropped each half in Josiah's whiskey and in Agape's glass of bourbon. Then she took the drinks into the living room and gave them to the men.

After that, she got a beer for herself and went into her father's study. There, she called Candice on her cell-phone. "Come on over, Can," she said. "I put the E in their drinks. Don't forget to use Nigrovum to make your hair black."

"I will," Candice said. "Be there in a half hour." She put some ketamine in her purse.

"OK," Camilla said. "Bye." She ended the call and put her phone away. Then she dropped a half pill of ecstasy and washed it down with a gulp of beer. Strangely not at all worried by the implications of how similarly the men looked, she went back into the living room and joined them.

The timing of black-haired Candice's arrival, a half hour later as promised, was perfect, for the ecstasy was now beginning to take effect. Camilla gave her a beer and offered her the other half of her ecstasy pill, but Candice had already dropped a whole pill just before leaving her apartment. Candice put on some techno music.

Concerned that Josiah, even when under the influence of the E, would be much more inhibited about sex in Agape's house, Camilla told Candice to wait until later before getting on top of Agape. Since the men were now peaking on the ecstasy, and the girls were starting to feel it, too, Camilla got more drinks for everyone to make sure Josiah would be too wasted to know what was happening. Actually, Camilla was getting too wasted to know what she was doing.

Indeed, Josiah had gotten much more drunk than he'd originally intended, but he was feeling too good to care.

"Father," Camilla said to him. "Come with me. I want to show you my father's study." She took him by the hand and led him out of the living room.

Now Candice had Agape all to herself in the living room. She turned up the music to drown out the squeals of sex soon to come. She took her ketamine out of her purse and chopped some lines for both of them on the coffee table.

"Wanna do a line of K, Mr. Mennon?" she asked him.

"Yeah, sure," he said. "What the hell." They each snorted their lines.

She then took him by the hands and made him get off the couch. He lay on the floor, knowing what to expect. Then she took off her slinky black dress: lacking underwear, she was now naked. She got on top of him and unzipped his pants. Using Nigrovum to get him hard, she pulled out his cock and fed it inside her wet pussy.

In the study, Camilla gently pushed Josiah on a couch by one of her father's bookshelves. She slowly danced in front of him, unzipped her jean shorts, and pulled them off. Since she, like Candice, wasn't wearing any underwear, she'd revealed her shaved pussy. Too drunk and disoriented to resist, Josiah just sat there and stared, not even sure of what he was seeing.

Still swaying her hips from side to side, Camilla pulled off her T-shirt, revealing her breasts with a wiggle. Visualizing a hard-on in his black pants, the visualization soon came true. She undid his pants, pulled out his cock, and sat on it. Indeed, because of the music, neither man could hear the squeals and screams of their female lovers in the separate rooms, but the girls, knowing what was going on, could hear themselves loud and clear.

After having already fucked for some time, the ketamine was now beginning to take effect on both Candice and Agape. In his stupor, Agape imagined he was making love to Carrie again, even though Candice hadn't used Nigrovum to disguise her face. He was so wasted, he never noticed anyway. The hallucinogenic effect of the K made Nigrovum superfluous.

Camilla, now peaking on the ecstasy as much as Josiah was, would soon come. She got up, taking his cock out of her pussy, and sat on his face. Using Nigrovum to make him open his mouth wide, she fingered her clitoris over it and came in his mouth. Too wasted to know he was eating something he'd consider abominable had he been sober, he gluttonously drank it up as if it were cake icing. Only a little trickled down the side of his face. Then she went down on his cock and began sucking him off.

Having come twice while riding on Agape, Candice looked down at him, seeing only a blur. In his black shirt and white undershirt, he looked rather like Father Josiah. Still, she was too stoned to care who she was fucking.

Josiah came in Camilla's mouth; she swallowed every drop. She got up and went back into the living room, totally forgetting about her clothes. Josiah's penis was still hanging out of his pants, too, for he lay on the sofa, his head swimming on the ecstasy. He was truly bouncing off the walls, totally unaware of his indecency.

When Candice saw Camilla approach her and Agape, she, still bouncing on his cock, said in a shaking voice, "Wanna do some K, Camil?"

"Yeah, sure, what the hell," Camilla said in a slurred voice. On the coffee table, a line was waiting for her nose to snort it up.

After snorting the K, Camilla sat and watched Candice continue to fuck Agape. In her wasted state, Camilla could only envy the pleasure her friend was enjoying. Camilla lay down on the floor, trying to see her father's cock as it went in and out of Candice's soaking pussy. Then she went over to Candice and played with her tits. Candice, still bouncing on Agape's cock, took Camilla's head in her left arm and softly kissed her on the forehead.

Finally, after coming again, Candice decided to take a break. She got off Agape and went to the washroom to pee. Like Josiah, Agape's cock was still hanging out of his pants; it was still hard, too, for he never came when Candice was on top of him.

Now Camilla was alone in the living room with Agape, and the ketamine was starting to take effect on her. As extremely stoned as she was, she had no inhibitions at all: she just saw her father's beautiful phallus pointing up.

Candice left the washroom and, on her way back to the living room, heard Father Josiah mumbling incoherently in the study. She opened the door and walked in. He was a blur to her: all she could make out was black clothes and a bit of white showing just under his neck--very similar to how Agape was dressed.

"Mr. Mennon?" she asked. "Is that you?" She was also a total blur to Josiah: he couldn't even make out her naked anatomy.

"Cami--la?" he asked in slurs, the first two syllables loud, and the third to soft for Candice to hear. It sounded to her as if he'd said, "Carrie?" Assuming he was Agape, she used Nigrovum to give him another erection, then climbed on top of him.

Because of the hallucinogenic qualities of her ketamine high, as well as her blurred vision, Camilla imagined she was with Father Josiah instead of her actual father. She focused her eyes on that rock-hard cock, though, and knew she wanted it. She squatted over it and slowly came down, her moist pussy getting closer and closer to the up-pointed tip.




Camilla Ch. 068



In the dimly-lit living room, she was a complete blur to him. "Candice?" he asked in slurs. "Is that you?"

"Yes," she said, assuming Josiah wanted to fuck her friend now. She used Nigrovum to make her hair have the tiger-stripe look Candice had acquired over the past month. She also made him think she had Candice's face. She came down lower, her cunt a few millimetres away from her father's knob.

Candice was riding away on the priest's cock, loving the probing she was getting, and totally unaware that--had she known who she was fucking--she was doing something that would make her nauseated with shame.

Camilla was now also beginning to do an unwittingly shameful thing: her father's cock was touching her vaginal orifice. Then she came down a little more, feeding the organ that had given her life inside her by an inch. She started sighing as it went in a little further...sighing and sighing in ascending pitches. She could feel its width caressing her vaginal walls; when it had made contact with her G-spot, she screamed. It went in a few inches further: it was now more than half the way in. "Ah!" she screamed. If only she had known what she was doing!

She came down further, and he was now about six-sevenths inside his daughter. She kept squealing with delight. Finally, she rested her ass on his lap, and his cock was all the way in. Screaming in whistle register, she gushed all over his pants. Now riding on him, she kept squealing staccato notes bordering on the whistle register range.

She looked down on her unwitting lover, still thinking he was Josiah. She put her hands on the floor just above his shoulders, just as she had done when she was in the hotel with the priest. "Am I...Nut, Father?"

Did Candice just call me 'father'? Agape thought. Nah! It couldn't be. He kept fucking his daughter.

"Am...I Aphrodite, Father?" she sighed as she continued going up and down on Agape's cock. "I'm coming...down from...heaven. I'll be...your ally."

As she felt that sweetly forbidden cock pumping away inside her, she realized something. It didn't feel like Josiah's phallus: actually, it felt better! Much, much better! It felt absolutely amazing! It was a perfect fit! Everything felt so right! She looked down at her lover, trying to focus on who he was. She realized: it was her father.

Was she shocked? Was she horrified? No: peaking on the ketamine and the ecstasy, she felt as though a metallic shield, a psychic barrier, so to speak, was separating her, protecting her from her shame. The drugs were making her too stoned to care, or to feel guilt. Was the Nigrovum also protecting her from the guilt?

This was perfect: she could enjoy something she'd always wanted to enjoy, and not feel any fear about the consequences. Experiencing multiple orgasms in a continuous line, without interruption, she was truly ecstatic in a way she'd never felt before. This was so right! This was so beautiful!

As she went up and down on him, looking into his eyes, she sighed, "Oh, Daddy, I love you."

Did Candice just call me 'Daddy'? he thought.

"Oh, Zeus," she continued. "I'm...your daughter, Aphrodite. The daughter...of God. Oh! I...love you. I love...you so...much. How I...dote on...you."

A foolish, imbecilic, deranged kind of love.

"I wanna...be beautiful for...you, Daddy," she went on, always coming. "Ah! You made...me beautiful. You told...me I...was beautiful. Ah! You...are beautiful. You made...me feel beautiful. Oh! You made...me feel...loved. Ah! I wanna make...you feel...loved, better than...Carrie ever...could. Oh!" Since Agape had a case of retarded ejaculation, Camilla could enjoy riding on him for another ten minutes or so. His lap was drenched in her come, as was the living room carpet.

When she could feel him about to come, she got off, her pussy tickling as his phallus slid out, massaging her tingling vaginal walls. Then she put his cock in her salivating mouth. Moving her head up and down with a diligent speed, she pleasured her father as no dutiful daughter had ever done before. Finally, he came in her mouth, and she swallowed it all, not missing a single drop. She put his spent member back in his pants, zipped them up, and left him to rest.

"Thanks, Carrie," Agape said. "Or Candice...or whoever you...were."

Looking back at him with teary eyes and sighs, she said, "Anything for you, my love." She went upstairs to her room, her whole body vibrating with the incredible pleasure she'd just experienced. Still feeling the stupor the drugs were causing her, she felt shielded from shame. She lay on her bed, for an hour or so contemplating the delight she'd just had before falling asleep. (She'd used Nigrovum to counteract the amphetamine in the ecstasy so she could sleep.)

She forgot, however, to set those indispensable psychic barriers.

She began to dream.

She saw a face she never thought she'd see again. Her mother's. They were in Agape's living room.

"You degenerate little slut!" Collette shouted. "Look what you did! How could you, even you?"

"What?" Camilla asked. "With the priest? Father Josiah?"

"No! Worse than even that! With your own father!"

"No," Camilla said, looking down at the floor where Josiah lay. "It's the priest, Mommy."

"It's your dad!" Collette shouted, pointing down at the floor. "Look again!"

Camilla saw Agape lying there instead of the priest. "Wait," she said. "This is just a dream."

"Yeah, but it's also reality. Wake up, go downstairs and take a look, you dirty little bitch!" Collette said, then slapped her hard.

Camilla woke up with a start. She also felt a sharp sting on her cheek, where her mother had hit her in the dream. My mother's a ghost? she thought. Obviously, Troy had slept with her before they were killed.

She got out of bed, put on a dress, and went downstairs. When she looked in the living room, she saw her father lying asleep on the floor, covered in her come. She knew Candice never came like that: it could have only been Camilla's doing! Now she knew--her worst fear...and her wildest fantasy...had been realized.

"Candice?" she said in a tremulous voice. "Where are you?"

Camilla went into the study and saw Father Josiah lying asleep on the couch, his limp dick still exposed. Sleeping Candice lay naked on the floor. Camilla gently put his penis back in his pants and zipped them up; then she got Candice's dress out of the living room, brought it back into the study, and lay it on her friend's nude body.

Camilla went back upstairs into her bedroom, shaking always. She lay on her bed, rocking back and forth and fidgeting in absolute horror at what she'd done.

"I'm a pervert, a sick pervert," she whispered. "I'm worse than a pervert...I'm in love."



Camilla Ch. 069



Naked Candice, still lying on the floor of Agape's study that Sunday morning after the party, woke up about ten minutes after Camilla had laid Candice's dress over her body to cover it. Nigrovum almost automatically relieved Candice of her hangover and discomfort from all the drugs she'd done the night before. She looked over to her left and saw Father Josiah still asleep on the couch. Remembering how she, in her stoned stupor, had originally thought he was Agape in the black shirt and white undershirt, she now felt horrified and embarrassed about what she'd done with him. Hoping he wouldn't wake up and see her, she got up and quickly put the dress on.

"My God," she whispered. "I fucked the priest--eww!"

She went over to the door connecting the study with the living room and opened it. She saw Agape lying asleep on the floor next to the coffee table and his chair: his groin was covered in come; she could easily surmise what had happened. She gasped, unable to say anything. What she'd done with the priest was nothing compared to what Camilla had obviously done!

I can't look her in the eyes, Candice thought; I'm getting out of here, now! She grabbed her shoes and put them on, got her purse, and quietly went out the front door.

A sob came out of her mouth with every step she took on the sidewalk back to her apartment; by the time she was in her room, her face was drowning in tears. She immediately went for her heroin.

****************

Five minutes later, Father Josiah woke up, falling off the couch in Agape's study. He looked at his watch: it was about 9 AM. He had only two hours to get to the church and do his homily, and he was hardly in any condition to do anything other than feel completely awful! Overwhelmed by the hangover he had, as well as his body aches from the ecstasy he'd unwittingly consumed with his whiskey, he could only wish the pain away with all his will. Amazingly, he did wish it away: the discomfort all vanished within a half minute.

"As little as I deserve Your aid, thank you, Lord," he said. Had he remembered drinking Camilla's come the night before, and had he known what special healing things were swimming around in it, he'd have thanked Nigrovum instead.

He went through the door leading into the living room, looking for his shoes. Seeing sleeping Agape bathed in come on the floor as Candice had seen him, Josiah inevitably came to the same shocking conclusion as she.

"Camilla, no!" he whispered, then quickly put on his shoes and quietly went out the front door and to his car. He drove home as quickly as he could, impatient to get into his bathroom and take a shower. When he got into the shower stall and turned on the water, he sighed in relief to feel the warm water pouring on his chest. As he lathered the soap in his hands, he thought, If only this bathing could clean my sinful soul as well as it can my body.

****************

Finally, after having sat on her bed for several more minutes, still shaking with fear and shame, Camilla decided to leave her bedroom, go downstairs, and face the consequences of what she had done with her father. When she'd given her father his black shirt to wear over his white undershirt on Saturday night, she conveniently hadn't thought much about it; now, however, she knew she'd done so deliberately to fool herself when she would get stoned later. She'd made her hangover disappear automatically upon waking up: if only she could have used Nigrovum to erase her guilt the same way.

When she got downstairs and went into the living room, she noticed neither Candice's shoes, nor those of Father Josiah, lying anywhere. Candice's purse was also no longer lying on the coffee table, where Camilla remembered having seen it when she got Candice's dress to lay it on her naked body in the study. Camilla went into the study: they both obviously had left. There was also no doubt that they both had seen Agape with her come all over his pants, a come that only she gushed. They knew what she'd done. It was now imperative that Camilla not let her father know.

Using Nigrovum to keep Agape asleep, she rushed into the kitchen, filled a pail with soapy water, and got a cloth. She hurried back into the living room and began scrubbing her come off the floor as best she could; she also gently wiped his pants, getting as much of it off as she could. Resigned to the fact that she couldn't get him any cleaner, she took the pail and cloth back into the kitchen and poured the water down the sink; after putting the pail and cloth away, she returned to the living room. She then used Nigrovum to make her father hear gentle birdsong by his ears, waking him up.

"Oh," he said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, "I feel terrible." Wanting the pain to go away as Josiah had, he unconsciously used Nigrovum to rid himself of it. Within seconds, his discomfort was gone, and he had no idea he had the ability to make it go away. "I felt terrible, I should say. Suddenly, I'm more or less 100% again. How have I been able to erase pain like that, just by wishing it gone? Just like Monday morning, the aches just disappeared in seconds. How?"

"The power of positive thinking, Daddy?" she asked, faking a weak smile. If only Nigrovum could make my shame disappear in seconds, she thought.

"And how'd I get all wet?" he asked, getting up.

"I-I cleaned you up, Daddy," she said. "You spilled your drink all over your lap, and on the floor."

"But I don't smell like bourbon," he said, bending down and sniffing himself. "It smells like...oh, I don't wanna say. I had sex with someone, didn't I? Who? I was so drunk, I don't remember. Did you see who, Camilla?"

"I-I-I don't kn-know either, Daddy," she said in a shaky voice. "I was pretty wasted, too." She backed away a bit in fear.

"It was Candice, wasn't it? As attractive as she is with that new black hair, I can't let her go on seducing me like that when I'm drunk. I'm afraid I can't allow your friend to come here anymore, Camilla. Sorry. I've been cheating on Carrie, and I love her too much to want to do that. God, what do you do about that kind of guilt?"

Oh, Daddy, you don't know the half of it, Camilla thought. Afraid to look Candice in the eye after knowing that she knew what Camilla had done, she then said, "I agree about Candice, Daddy. She's a bad influence; she shouldn't come here anymore. She does too many hard drugs."

"I'm glad you agree she's a bad influence, sweetie," he said, putting his arm around her and kissing her on the forehead. She feared his touch as much as she wanted it. "You know what a good influence is? Church. Let's take showers, eat breakfast, and go. Maybe Father Josiah will have something inspiring to say to make us feel better. Speaking of him, did he get home OK? He may have had a little too much to drink last night, too."

"Oh, he l-left OK," she said. Now she had to face him and one of his sermons, assuming he'd be fit to preach that day. Did he--I hope--ask another priest to replace him, or did he have enough Nigrovum in him to know how to make himself feel better? she wondered. She would soon find out.

Agape used the ground floor bathroom to take his shower, and Camilla went upstairs to take hers. In the bathroom and taking off her dress, she just kept shaking. Her mind was torn in two: she was terrified and drowning in shame, but also burning with desire for her father; for she remembered that their fuck had been the most electrifying lay she'd ever had! The temptation to commit incest with him would be too great to resist, and Nigrovum just made the desire all the stronger. No cock had ever made her feel that good. Her problem, however, wasn't merely about temptation to lust.

For the first time in her life, she knew the agony of being in love. Her choice of a love object was all the more agonizing in its perversity. A girl as sexy and desirable as Camilla was could have had any man, and she wanted the one man forbidden her.

Naked in the shower stall with the warm water raining down on her, she remembered Ravinder's theory that Nigrovum was brought by the solar winds into the Earth's atmosphere; then it came down to Earth in the rain. It travelled in moisture, apparently: water, come, piss, the moisture in shit, blood, sweat, or saliva. She'd rained the come of her desire on Vancouver grass, and some Nigrovum entered her body, giving her the power to make, potentially, all of her desires come true. She'd certainly made this shameful one a reality.

She could make her physical injuries go away; it could make her hangovers go away; it could make her fatigue go away. Could it make her shame go away, too?

She could visualize all kinds of things and make them come true: could Nigrovum help her have Agape, too? Could she make him want her as much as she wanted him? Could they have a sexual relationship free of guilt feelings? Could that advanced extra-terrestrial technology find a way to invalidate conventional morality, allowing her to commit incest with her father, with no trace of shame? Did she dare try to use her power thus?

****************

Sitting at the front pew with Agape at Mass, she kept shaking, seeing Father Josiah's eyes and knowing that he knew what she had done with her father. She tried to allay her fears by reminding herself that he was guilty of scandalous things, too, so she didn't worry about him telling anyone. Still, he knew, and Candice knew, and that was torment enough for her.

His choice of a topic for his sermon did little to ease her nerves.

"Sex is a gift from God," he said in his homily. "It is to be enjoyed only within the context of marriage and the raising of a family. It was never intended for the free, unrestrained pursuit of pleasure, as so many people misuse it. What I say to you isn't mere prudery: much human suffering is caused by so-called 'free love'. When the flames of uncontrolled sexual desire are fanned--" now he was looking straight at Camilla, "it leads to such sins as adultery, incest, and homosexuality. I know it isn't politically correct to condemn this last sin as such, but God's laws don't need the approval of today's ever-changing 'ethical' fads. God's ethics aren't concerned with contemporary trends--His laws are eternal. Few would debate the commandment, 'You shall not commit adultery.' No sane person would doubt the sound judgement of Leviticus 18: 'The nakedness of your father, or the nakedness of your mother, you shall not uncover.'" Again, Josiah looked at Camilla with piercing eyes: she winced at his words.

"But still, modern society turns a blind eye to the sins of homosexuals," he continued. "Many people today think Leviticus' condemnation of homosexuality is like being forbidden to eat shrimp, an old Jewish prohibition we Christians needn't concern ourselves with anymore. But St. Paul in his epistle to the Romans warns us not to give up natural intercourse with the opposite sex, to be consumed with desire for the same sex, which produces no children, the whole reason God made sex to begin with." These words made Camilla think of her lesbian relationships with Candice, Calina, Li-ping, and Desiree. She felt no less guilty.

"Liberals accuse priests of hypocrisy for condemning homosexuality when we all know that some priests have been guilty of sexually abusing boys," Josiah went on. "Indeed, we men of the cloth must guard against sin in ourselves, too; but not one of the sexual scandals that have recently plagued our Holy Church negates our morality--in fact, this grim reality should only increase our sense of urgency for promoting sexual decency in our society. We all must remember what St. Paul said in his first epistle to Timothy: 'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.' We priests are the chiefs of sinners. We aren't any freer of sin than you, the flock, are; but we must all come together and stop each other from sinning, for in sinning, we hurt one another. Please, let's keep sex in its proper place, within marriage, and for the purpose of procreation."

Camilla could see in Josiah's eyes a half-confession of his own sin when he quoted the words of 1 Timothy. Of course, her own sins were her main concern at that time.

****************

She and Agape returned home as soon as Mass ended.

Getting out of the car, Agape said, "I feel spiritually refreshed. I am completely resolved never to touch Candice again. I am Carrie's, faithful to the end. I hope you'll correct your naughty ways, too, Camilla."

"Uh, yeah, of course, Daddy," she lied as they walked toward the house. Hearing his last words sent a chill down his spine: did he know what she'd done, and was he just hiding his shame? Impossible, she thought; nobody could be such a good actor.

As soon as they got inside the house, she went up to her bedroom. She sat on her bed, haunted by Josiah's words. Suddenly, her cell-phone rang.

She picked it up. "Hello?" she said into the receiver.

"It's me," Bob said. "Long time, no fuck. Wanna make a video?"

"Actually, Bob, I'm not really in the..." she began, then thought for a moment. "Wait. I have an idea for a POV video. I'll be in your place in half an hour, OK?"

****************

Bob lay on his bed with the POV camera strapped to his head, and with his pyjamas pulled down to expose his cock. Naked Camilla sat on top of him in the cowgirl position. She fed his hard cock inside her pussy.

You are Bob, Camilla's 'father' in this POV video. Bob pressed PLAY.

She is going up and down on your cock, sighing "Daddy, I love you so much."

You wake up slowly, looking down at her, your nude daughter, riding on your cock, her tits bouncing up and down.

Furious, you make her get off. You pull up your pyjamas.

"What were you doing? You filthy whore!" you shout.

"I couldn't help it, Daddy," she says, getting off the bed and beginning to cry. 'You are such a sweet and handsome man. I tried to fight it, but I couldn't. I'm in love with you."

"You're disgusting!" you say. You sit on the side of the bed, put her over your knee, and begin spanking her bottom till it's red. She's been screaming and crying, but she's also strangely titillated. "Now, come with me!"

"Yes, Daddy," she says, still crying.

After that, you take her into another room, designed like a BDSM dungeon where bondage gear can be seen everywhere. She, still naked and crying but lovingly filial in her obedience to you, is fully compliant as you tie her up in strappado bondage, her mouth gagged, and with a spreader bar between her legs and elbow and wrist bondage on her arms. In this way, her legs are wide open, and she's bent over with her arms bound over her head. Though you are angry with her for shaming you so, you find it impossible not to note how exciting she looks all tied up, with her breasts hanging down and her buttocks pushed out. Of course, as her father, you aren't excited at all (!), except in your rage.

You spank her bottom again, for its redness has been fading. After about two dozen swats on each buttock, they're as tomato red as they were before. Then you pick up your whip. You flog her with it, slashing red stripes of blood on her back. Her screams are muffled by the gag in her mouth, and her body shakes with each strike.

For the first time in Camilla's life, she's getting hot from being whipped: her pussy's getting wetter and wetter with each lash of the whip. Finally, she gushes come all over the floor between her legs, soaking the spreader bar.

"You dirty little bitch," you say in disgust. "You enjoyed that? Well, if you're enough of a degenerate to commit incest with your father, I guess you're degenerate for just about anything."

Looking down at Camilla's face and seeing the dangerously disoriented look of a BDSM victim falling into subspace, Bob pressed STOP on the camera. He then waited a while for her to come out of it. Nigrovum sped up that process, as well as the healing of her wounds.

"Camilla, are you OK?" Bob asked.

"Much better now," she said.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief. "I've never seen such an intense performance. You looked like you were really feeling the emotions of the situation."

"Was I good?"

"Good? You're up for a porno Oscar, as I see it. What a strange situation for you to be giving your best performance in. Also, you seemed troubled when you arrived: Camilla, is something wrong?"

"N-no," she lied. "I'm much better now. Well, I guess that's one more video for the BDSM category." Indeed, she was smiling from the assuagement of her guilt, however brief this relief would be. Her wounds and cuts were completely healed by now, thanks to the Nigrovum. When the guilt feelings started coming back, she was still wanting Nigrovum to do something about that.

********************

It was a rainy Sunday night, and Camilla was in her bedroom, as racked with guilt as she had been in the morning. She received no calls from Candice, and was glad for that, since she was too ashamed to talk to even her best friend.

She took out her lap-top, went online, and checked her e-mail. Dr. Singh had sent her a message.

"Ravinder!" she gasped. "Thank God!" She opened his e-mail and read it. This is what it said.

Dear Camilla,

I've checked into some of your old lovers here in Vancouver, and yes, I'm afraid Mr. Hanson died. He was an alcoholic: I don't know if you knew that. He had a taste for urolagnia and golden showers, too: I guess you already knew that, since you told me you'd given him one back then. Anyway, his wife learned about your affair with him from gossipy neighbours, and he and his wife got divorced. He got kicked out of his house. This must have plunged him into a state of despair, for people in the new apartment he moved into say he drank constantly; he also brought prostitutes into his room for sex and 'water sports', as they're called. When he died, the autopsy revealed that he'd ingested other people's urine, that of prostitutes, apparently; theirs was most unhealthy. He had them piss copiously in his mouth until he drowned in it. Since you already had Nigrovum in you when you'd given him your golden shower, this must have inflated his urolagnia to the point of Nigrovum-inspired madness and despair.

I'm sorry to have had to tell you that.

The other living lovers I checked into, including Mr. Pierce and Ms. Callahan, are still alive, and no problems seem to exist with them as of now. That's the good news.

How are you?

Dr. Ravinder Singh

"Shit!" Camilla said. "I wouldn't have minded that bitch Callahan dying." Suddenly, she noticed Singh's being online on her 'Socialbox' application. "Hi, Ravinder," she typed.

"Hi," he typed. "How are you?"

"Not so good. I just read your e-mail, about Hanson."

"Oh, dear."

"How do I avoid going crazy on Nigrovum?"

"Whatever you do, don't despair," he typed.

"That's getting difficult," she typed.

"Try to be as happy as you can. That seems to help. Don't give in to fear and desire: they're the killers. Pursue religion, and find peace."

"I go to church every Sunday, and I'm praying."

"Good. Fear is the enemy! Remember that!" he typed.

"One thing I don't understand," she typed.

"What's that?"

"If Nigrovum helps us heal and get better from sickness quickly, how did Leroy die? He should've gotten better. Also, Wayne's high blood pressure, and Mr. Chen's coronary: wouldn't Nigrovum have fixed that?"

"I believe the answer to your question is this: those men died simply because they wanted to. As I said before, fear and despair are the killers. I asked around about Wayne and Mr. Chen, and their families say both men were feeling very down during their last few days. I don't know what exactly troubled them, but in all these people's cases--Leroy's eating shit, Hanson's alcoholism and paying whores to piss in his mouth till he drowned--it all sounds unmistakably like despair. All the evidence points there."




Camilla Ch. 069



"I see. Thanks," she typed.

"Be happy, Camilla. Enjoy life. Don't let the little things bother you. If you've done anything wrong, fix it with those you may have hurt. Use Nigrovum for good--it definitely can be used that way, I know from my own experiences with it. Rein in your desires, don't let them spin out of control, and don't fear or despair."

"Thanks."

"Remember: you have to want to live to stay alive," he typed.

"Thanks. I've got to go now. Bye." She then went offline.

Already starting to feel better, she set up the psychic barriers to protect herself, her father, Candice, Bob, Father Josiah, and all the other people she cared about. Then she prayed to God.

God, please help me to be good. Help me get rid of this shame; I don't wanna feel guilty anymore. Help me to love Daddy the right way. Don't let him know what I did; it would kill him. Help Candice and Father Josiah to forgive me. Keep us all well. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

She then went to sleep.

******************

Candice, meanwhile, hadn't called Camilla because she was too high on heroin to do so: she'd kept herself high the whole day, and only Nigrovum was keeping her alive. Only heroin was keeping her from crying.

******************

On Monday afternoon at the beginning of her mythology class, Camilla thought about what Singh had said about keeping a positive attitude. Of course, she knew no better way to be happy than to have lots of sex! That's when Alex came into the classroom.

She looked at him from her front-row desk in her usual lascivious way; he looked back at her no longer with fear, but with a mixture of lust and contempt. He began his lecture.

"Today we'll talk about one of my personal favourite gods--though I don't know why I like him so--Zeus," he said. "Though he demanded moral behaviour from mortals, he wasn't too moral himself, nor did he seem to worry about that. He usurped his father Cronus, incestuously married his sister, Hera, and often went down from heaven to earth, to have countless affairs with mortal women, such as Io and Leda. He even developed a homosexual passion for Ganymede. All of this sinning, and yet he was the greatest god of all."

And the sexiest god of all, Camilla thought as she licked her lips.

"Perhaps that's why I like Zeus so much," Alex continued. "He had the power to do what he liked, and didn't care if others disapproved. He was a god, he was powerful, and so might made right...or so it seemed. He was able to do what so many of want to do--so we all want to be Zeus, in some way."

Camilla felt encouragement lighting up in her heart at Alex's words. If Nigrovum has made me a goddess, she reasoned, then I can do what I like, too! I'll commit incest with Daddy as much as I like, free of guilt! Society used to disapprove of gays and lesbians, now we let them get married. Maybe one day incest will be tolerated! And then, maybe, polygamy! I'm not a pervert, I'm just ahead of my time! Oh, you're wrong, Father Josiah! Today's morality isn't just about liberal trends, it's progress! They aren't God's eternal laws, they're just the outmoded laws of the Church! From now on, I'm doing whatever I like! I'll fuck whoever I like, free of guilt! I'll have lesbian sex, free of guilt, too! I'll be like Eve before the Fall: naked, and not ashamed! I'll be the greatest goddess of all, joyfully divine, because Ravinder says happy is healthy. I am a goddess of sex, and I'm starting today, with Dr. Alex McVie!

She could feel a soothing vibration all over her body, relieving her of all feelings of guilt and shame. It seemed as though Nigrovum could cancel out mental anguish, too...if one wanted such a cancellation.

*******************

After class, she followed Alex out of the building, and they walked together on the campus grounds towards the building where his office was.

"Hi, sir," she said, walking beside him and looking up at him with a lewd smile.

"So," he said, "where are you going to make me screw you this time? In the middle of the Eaton's Centre?"

"No," she said with a pout. "I was thinking of a more private place this time."

"I see," he said. "In the back of a taxi cab?"

"In your office."

"Very well, then."

As they continued along the campus sidewalk to his office building, Camilla psychically sensed a familiar presence, someone she knew from before, but she couldn't quite make out who. This person was following her and Alex from about twenty yards away. Whenever Camilla looked back to see who it was, she noticed a somewhat overweight, black-haired girl zipping behind trees and people to hide. When Camilla and Alex went inside the building, her follower didn't go in with them.

They went into Alex's office and closed the door; Camilla locked it.

"So, what shall I do for you today, sir?" she asked.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked with a sneer. "Do whatever you want."

"Well, if you're gonna give me that kind of attitude, I guess I'll just go." She turned around to walk out the door.

"Wait, wait," he said, remembering just how good her blow-jobs were. "Give me head."

"See, I told you you wanted it." She got between his legs, kneeled down, and unzipped his pants. As she pulled his hard cock out, she briefly thought about being in love with Agape. Indeed, sucking Alex's dick was a strangely inconsistent thing for her to be doing, but Nigrovum was propelling her to fuck and suck as much as possible, with as many lovers as possible. Cupid's arrow didn't cancel that out. She was psychologically so deeply submerged in come, the come of so many lovers, that her only way up to the surface for a breath was to fuck her way up.

She kissed the tip of his cock and licked it several times. He began moaning. "Wait," he said. "What if the people outside hear?"

She visualized them all temporarily deaf. In a few seconds, the people in the office halls were all shaking their heads in agitation, confused by their suddenly-acquired disability.

"No need to worry about that now, sir," she said, then she deep-throated him. His pubic hair tickled her face and poked at her eyes. He moaned louder and more freely.

She looked up in his eyes, thrilled to know she was still a master cock-sucker. He looked down at her, too delighted with her lips and tongue to care that they weren't his wife's.

She shook his balls gently in her hand, and brought her head up to lick the underside of his cock. Her wet lips were wrapped tightly around his shaft, and she could sense he was going to come soon.

"Don't make...a mess...in my office," he grunted. "Let me...come in...your mouth."

"Mm-hm," she said, having his cock three-quarters of the way in her mouth. Her tongue tickled his bulging corpus spongiosum, just under his knob. Then he ejaculated in her mouth; she swallowed every drop. When his dick was completely limp again, she took it out of her mouth and put it back in his pants for him, zipping him up. As they caught their breath, she ended the psychic deafness of the other office workers.

"What the hell?" a woman could be heard saying. "I can hear again."

"So can I," said a man.

"Did you enjoy that, Dr. McVie?" Camilla asked.

"I'll say one thing for you," Alex said. "You can sure suck dick."

Giggling, she asked, "By the way, sir; how do you want me to dress when I come to class?"

"Wear whatever you like," he said. "There isn't a dress code, you know."

"Oh, sir, I wanna be sexy for my teacher. What kinds of clothes turn you on?"

"Well, I like tight jeans on a girl. Whatever else you wear doesn't matter to me."

"OK," she said, "I'll remember that. I'm glad to be wearing jeans for you now. OK, Bye." Then she kissed him on the cheek, and went out of his office.

***************

That night, it was raining, so Camilla stayed at home with Agape and Carrie for dinner. His girlfriend was going to stay the night, and though that fired up Camilla's jealousy, she decided not to interfere, since she didn't want to press her luck with him.

At the dinner table, Agape said, "So, today's another anniversary for 9/11. Has the world become a better place?" Already tipsy, he took a sip of wine.

"I don't think so, Daddy," Camilla said.

"Well, at least we don't have Bush for president anymore," Carrie added.

"I don't see all that much difference between him and Obama, to be honest," Agape said. "He's getting us into wars, too. Libya, and the possibility of war with Iran. Everybody's fighting, everybody's idolizing some kind of political ideal: if not an Islamic state, then the American ideal imposing itself all over the world. The bankers are all worshipping money, while the poor stay empty-handed. People are more materialistic than ever, loving their iPhones and their IPods, but as we once heard in an old King Crimson song, 'Nothing he's got, he really needs--21st century schizoid man.'" He gulped down the rest of his wine.

"Oh, I'm sure it's not all that bad, Aga," Carrie said.

"I think it is," he continued, pouring himself another glass of wine. "Back when 9/11 happened, we were all so afraid. Fear and terror gripped us all, here in Canada as well as in America. Bush used that fear to his advantage, and got us into a needless war that's just got the Muslims all the angrier with the West. Government interferes with our lives all the time with taxes and media propaganda. In the old days, the days of Fascism, Naziism, and Communism, at least those bullies made it clear they were bullies. We had to obey them, or die. Now big business and governments, on the left as well as the right, use a kind of soft fascism to control us: they hypnotize us with desire. They use the media to addict us to sex to sell us their products, and keep us afraid so we'll support their wars. Fear and desire, that's what it's all about." He took a sip of his wine.

Fear and desire, Camilla thought; that's what Ravinder says are the enemies. My daddy's so brilliant. She just sat there and beamed at her father like a schoolgirl with a crush on her most handsome classmate.

***************

In her bedroom, Camilla looked at herself in the mirror: her hair was getting darker, as were her eyes. Her pupils seemed to be larger. She chose not to worry about that, since she remembered Singh telling her not to think negative thoughts.

Instead, she meditated on being a goddess, as she now saw herself. I have the power to do whatever I want, she thought. After setting up the psychic barriers and praying for her loved ones, she went to sleep.

***************

Candice, having still not called Camilla, was in bed, high on heroin again.

***************

On Tuesday morning, Camilla, in her tight grey outfit from last Friday night at Club Ritz, went with Dr. Lawson out of her Erotic Literature class, having just finished it.

"I just loved your reading of that Latin poem, sir," she said as they walked along the campus to the building where his office was.

"Catullus 50," he said. "Yes, that's a great poem. What did it make you think of?"

"My friend, Candice," Camilla said. "She's like Catullus, and I'm like Licinius."

"She has lesbian feelings for you?"

"Oh, yeah. We've eaten each other out many, many times. Oops! I should watch my volume." She giggled in embarrassment, hoping no one else passing by heard what she'd said.

"You are such a naughty girl."

"Yeah. Candice tosses and turns in bed, thinking about me, 'cause I haven't been with her in a while. I hope she doesn't have a Nigrovum-Nemesis punish me."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind," Camilla said. Then she sensed her follower again. She looked back: the girl behind them was Asian and frumpy-looking. Camilla couldn't see her face below her eyes, though, because the girl was covering her face up--she obviously didn't want Camilla to recognize her.

Lawson's cell-phone suddenly started to ring. "Uh-oh," he said, taking out his phone and seeing the number. "I have to take this call, Camilla. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, go ahead, sir, that's OK," Camilla said, taking out her schedule book and trying to ignore her Asian follower. As Lawson talked on his phone, Camilla wrote down all the office hours of her profs: in the boxes on the calendar, she wrote, "suck Dr. Lawson's cock [at 11 AM on Tuesdays and Fridays]; suck Dr. Lee's cock [at 4 PM on Tuesdays and Thursdays]; suck Dr. McVie's cock [at 3 PM on Mondays and Wednesdays]...", etc.

Lawson finished his phone call as he and Camilla went into his office. (Again, her Asian follower hadn't followed them into the building.) He sat at his chair, and Camilla closed the door.

"What shall I do for you today, sir?" she asked him.

"Let me see that delicious body," he said.

"With pleasure," she said. She began slowly swaying her hips from left to right; she then unzipped her outfit and slowly pulled it down, revealing her tits with a shake.

He was breathing heavily and resting back on his chair. Now he was ogling her camel-toe.

Then she pulled her outfit down to her feet, pulling her feet through the leg holes. Wearing no underwear, she was now naked except for her high heels, which she kept on. Her pussy was freshly shaved: she'd done it herself, since Candice hadn't made her services available. Camilla now turned around and bent over for Dr. Lawson: her beige asshole and pink pussy were eye-level with him.

He reached forward and began licking her wrinkly asshole while putting his fingers inside her cunt. She unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard cock. She put it in her mouth.

After Lawson had soaked her asshole with his saliva, she asked, "Would you like to fuck my ass, sir?" in her uninhibited 'Kitty' voice.

"I'd love to," he said. "I hope the people outside don't hear."

"They won't," she said, using Nigrovum to make them temporarily deaf again. Then she got on all fours and stuck her ass out. He aimed his cock at her asshole and pushed the tip against her anal orifice. She sighed softly.

Slowly, he slid his cock in a few inches, groaning at her sphincter's glorious tightness. His spit on her asshole was so plentiful that she didn't need her anal lube. He pushed in a few more inches; she looked back at him with her eyes squinting and her mouth wide open in salacious delight at the feeling of his big cock in there. Finally, he pushed it in all the way: she squealed.

Now he was pushing all the way in and pulling out half-way; he reached forward and fondled her breasts. Balancing herself on her left hand, she reached back with her right hand and fingered her wet clitoris.

After a few more minutes of fucking, he said, "I'm...gonna come."

"OK," she said. "Pull it out." He did, and she turned around. He stood up, and she, kneeling, received his cock in her mouth. Looking up at her teacher with eyes whose only concern was how much she was pleasing him, she tightly wrapped her wet lips around his thick shaft and tickled the underside with her tongue, just under the knob. She took it all the way in when he came, and she gulped his ejaculation all down, not missing any.

She put his now-limp penis back in his pants and zipped him up. As they sat there and caught their breath, she thought about how she'd solved her problems. As long as she kept feeling good, she didn't need to worry about going mad, despairing, or dying. She was successfully keeping fear out of her heart. She now just had a problem remembering to moderate her desires...but she was too busy being horny to think about that.



Camilla Ch. 070



In Dr. Alex McVie's mythology class on Wednesday, Camilla was delighted to hear him lecture on love gods, especially the birth of Aphrodite.

"Cronus usurped his father, the sky-god Uranus, castrating him," Alex said. "The severed genitals were cast into the sea, where the foam around them metamorphosed into Aphrodite (literally, 'foam-born'), who, naked, came out of that foam in the water."

Camilla was fascinated with what her prof was saying. We should install a shower onstage at Club Ritz, she thought; then I can emerge from the water and mist naked, as Aphrodite did. Always identifying herself with Aphrodite, she imagined her father Agape was Uranus, though deposed by her mother Collette rather than Cronus. To Camilla, Agape's cuckolding by Collette was a symbolic castration. Camilla envisioned her body as having been shaped from the foam, or come, of the very genitals she so incestuously coveted. Hearing Dr. McVie's lecture made her want to worship them all the more.

"Other sources, however, say the father of Aphrodite was Zeus," the professor continued. "He begot her, they say, on Dione."

Is my father Zeus, or Uranus? she wondered. Either way, he's a god, and I'm a goddess. After class, Alex will be my Zeus, and I'll be his Dione.

*************

After class, she walked with Alex to his office.

"Have time for a quickie, sir?" she asked him.

Ogling her, he said, "I guess I can squeeze you in...and squeeze myself in you."

She giggled lewdly. "I'm glad you're not so nervous anymore about doing this."

"That's because I know being nervous won't help me," he said, opening the door to the building where his office was. "I comfort myself with the fact that I never had a choice."

"Oh, come on, sir," she said as they went down the hall to his office. "You know you want it as much as I do." They reached the door to his office and went in.

He sat at his desk, and she locked the door.

"Do you like my jeans, sir?" she asked, turning around for him and sticking her ass out at his face.

"Yes," he said, ogling her. "Very tight, very sexy." He spanked her hard two times. She straightened up, giggling.

She turned around, swaying her hips slowly as she unzipped her pants. "And I love that suit you're wearing, sir," she said, unbuttoning her pants and slowly pulling them down to reveal her pink panties. "You always dress so well."

"Thank you," he said. "You always undress so well."

She giggled her thanks as she turned around and bent over with her ass in his face. He patted her buttocks gently as she removed her white running shoes and socks. When she'd pulled her feet out of her pants, he pulled on the elastic of her panties, briefly ogled her butt-crack, and let go. The elastic snapped sharply against her ass, making her shriek and giggle with excitement.

Fearing the people outside would hear them, Dr. McVie turned on a radio he had on a bookshelf behind him. He tuned in to a classical station; it was about ten minutes into Bartok's Miraculous Mandarin. He turned it up.

Camilla took off her tight white T-shirt; not wearing a bra again, she wiggled her tits just inches from Alex's face. Resuming the swaying of her hips, she put her hand in her panties and briefly fingered her clitoris. Then he reached over and pulled her panties down to her ankles.

"Shaved pussy, eh?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with a giggle, pulling her feet out of the leg-holes of her panties. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful."

Now completely nude, Camilla turned around, got on the floor on all fours, and pushed her ass out so he could see her pretty brown anus. Taking her anal lube out of her purse, she asked, "Wanna fuck my ass, sir?"

"Oh, yeah," he grunted, kneeling behind her and unzipping his pants.

"I'm Aphrodite, and you're Zeus," she said, looking back at him and opening her buttocks wide so she could focus his attention on her puckered asshole. "And my anus is Uranus." She giggled lewdly.

He pulled his half-erect cock out, and she gave him the tube of anal lube. He lubed his cock and her rectum, the pushed the tip of his now fully-hard cock against her opened anal lips, pressing an inch inside. "No need...for your black...magic. The music...will drown out...the moaning. Unh!" He was now half-way inside her ass. The Bartok music was at the climactic last three minutes now.

"I don't...need Nigrovum...to make you...want me. Oh!" she sighed, looking back at him with an agape mouth and squinty eyes as he pushed in another quarter of the way. "You always...wanted me. Ah!" He was all the way in.

"What...is Nigrovum?" he asked as he slid all the way in and half-way out of her tightly hugging anal walls.

"My power," she sighed. "You should...have it...by now, too."

"How so? Unh!"

"Our body...fluids mix, and you...get it...that way. Oh!"

"I see," he panted. Then I can use it on you, bitch, he thought. He reached over and grabbed her tits. "I'm gonna...come." The Bartok music was getting particularly loud, frenzied, and dissonant.

"OK," she sighed. He pulled his cock out, and she turned around. He stood up. She knelt before him, jerking him off with his cock pointing at her wide-open mouth. After a few seconds of masturbating him, he ejaculated a straight line of come into her mouth; it splashed against her uvula. The subsequent blasts of jizz all went in her mouth, hitting her tongue, her teeth, and a bit against her lower lip. That last bit dripped down to her chin; she wiped it off with her fingers and ate it, too.

Putting his spent penis back in his pants and zipping them up, he said, "OK, I got you off. Now if you don't mind, could you please get dressed and leave? I have a lot of work to do." He sat down and turned off the radio, which had just reached the end of the Bartok music.

"Yes, sir," she said with a frown. She then got dressed and left, hurt that he didn't appreciate the pleasure she was trying to give him. She comforted herself with the fact that he was just a plaything for her; her heart truly belonged to her daddy.

***************

That night, Camilla sat in her room, reading her books to prepare for Thursday's classes. Her cell-phone rang.

She picked it up. "Hello?" she said in the receiver.

"It's me," Candice said. "Sorry I haven't called in a while."

"Look," Camilla said nervously, remembering how Candice knew about Camilla's having committed incest with her father. "About Saturday night,..."

"It was an accident, Camil," Candice said. "We were all stoned. We didn't know what we were doing. We both fucked the wrong guys. You don't have to explain. I did something embarrassing that night, too. I fucked the priest: eww!"

Candice, I love you! Camilla thought. What a perfect way for her to save face! She just went along with it. "What you did was nothing compared to what I accidentally did. Eww on me! With my own father? Good God, I don't love him that much," she lied.

"We'll just have to be more careful next time."

"Sorry, Candice. There isn't gonna be a next time. Because of how crazy things got last time, Daddy doesn't want us to have those parties anymore."

"But I'm lonely here at home," Candice said in sobs. "With you at school, I don't see you at Club Ritz anymore."

"Oh, baby, don't cry. I'll come over to see you now, OK?"

"It's raining."

"That's OK. I like the rain. See you in fifteen minutes. Bye." Camilla hung up and grabbed her jacket.

Not even bothering with an umbrella, she walked in the rain to Candice's apartment. Remembering Dr. Singh's advice about always having a cheerful attitude, the female Gene Kelly danced in the puddles, welcoming any possible Nigrovum that could have been in each raindrop she felt splashing on her face and hands. Are the sons of God giving me bukkake? she wondered, giggling.

By the time she was in Candice's apartment, she was obviously soaking wet. Naked Candice opened the door, hiding her body behind it.

"Camilla," she said, taking Camilla's dripping wet jacket after she took it off. "Haven't you ever heard of umbrellas?" Candice hung the jacket on a nearby chair, then went back to the door as Camilla walked in. Candice licked her lips at the delicious sight of Camilla's wet, erect nipples protruding through her tight, white T-shirt. "Wait: let me get a towel from the bathroom."

"I let myself get wet because I was hoping some Nigrovum would be coming down in the rain tonight, as Ravinder says it did in Vancouver." Leaving the door open, Camilla took off her jeans, shoes, and socks.

"Maybe you have too much Nigrovum in your blood as it is," Candice said as she returned from the bathroom with a large, thick towel. Camilla pulled off her T-shirt; she now had only her pink panties on. "Don't get naked with the door open." Candice then shut it, always careful to hide her own nakedness behind it.

"Maybe a handsome man was watching me," Camilla said with a lewd smirk as she pulled her panties down.

"The only guy who was enjoying watching you strip, if he was watching, and I hope he wasn't, was my neighbour across the hall," Candice said, wrapping the towel around her wet lover. "He's in his early twenties, and he's three hundred pounds." She dried Camilla's hair, then moved down to dry her breasts.

"Three hundred pounds? Eww!"

"Eww, exactly! He's a real asshole, too. He pinched my ass two days ago. I kicked him hard in the balls." Candice dried Camilla's back and buttocks.

"Good for you, girl."

"I'm amazed my foot found them under all that blubber," Candice said, finishing drying Camilla down at her legs and feet. On her knees with her mouth millimetres away from Camilla's hairless slit, Candice said, "You are shaving yourself these days." She then licked Camilla a few times. "Unless you have Desiree, or somebody else, doing it for you now."

"Don't get jealous on me, baby," Camilla said. "Oh! I did...it myself. Dr. Lawson likes...it that way. I want...to please him. Ah!"

"Please me, too, OK?" Candice sighed, now sucking on Camilla's clit.

"Gladly. Oh!"

"I miss you...at Club Ritz." Candice slowly got up, kissing Camilla's belly, breasts, and face along the way.

"I had...to switch to...part time," Camilla explained between kisses on Candice's lips. "I need...time to...study."

Taking Camilla by the hand and leading her into the bedroom, Candice said, "Well, take a break from it tonight."

They got on the bed, with Candice on top of Camilla, who lay on her back. Candice wrapped her lips around the dark pink nipple of Camilla's right breast and sucked away as if she were famished. Her right hand fondled Camilla's left breast. Moaning and sighing, Camilla ran her hands through Candice's tiger-coloured hair. The top of Camilla's right foot gently rubbed against Candice's wet vulva.

Candice slowly raised her head, gently pulling Camilla's tit up with her an inch or two before letting go of it; her tit prettily bounced back into place. "Your nipples are getting darker, like mine," Candice said. "Have you noticed?"

"Yeah," Camilla said. "Everything on us is darker, except our paler skin; Nigrovum's making us look like Goth girls." She giggled. Candice lay on her back, and Camilla got on top of her in the 69 position.

"I'm not sure that's a good thing," Candice said, raising her head so her tongue could reach Camilla's asshole. She started licking it, and fingering Camilla's cunt.

"Oh, keep a...positive spirit," Camilla said, lowering her head to lick Candice's twat. Between licks, she continued, "Dr. Singh says...a happy attitude will...keep Nigrovum a...good thing inside us. Bad thinking...and Nigrovum are...what killed...the other guys."

Candice's index and long fingers were massaging, respectively, Camilla's G- and A-spots. Her tongue continued tickling those wrinkles on Camilla's anus. Camilla was sucking on Candice's hard clitoris.

Not wanting her bed soaked with Camilla's gushing, Candice stopped licking Camilla's asshole and moved her wide-open mouth down to Camilla's soon-to-spew cunt. Thanks to Nigrovum's psychic gifts, the girls could not only predict--with uncanny accuracy--each other's orgasms, but could also control and synchronize them. Indeed, they came within a half-second of each other, Candice gulping down all of Camilla's cascade, and Camilla licking away Candice's oozing secretion.

After lying in each other's arms for the next few minutes, catching their breath, Candice asked, "You're not gonna fuck your dad again, are you?"

"Of course not," Camilla lied.

****************

The next day, Camilla had some free time between classes, and she decided to sit in on one of her father's lectures. Agape was discussing a scene from Hamlet in a course on Elizabethan tragedy.

"'Assume a virtue, if you have it not,' Hamlet urges his mother," Agape said.

My mother could never assume a virtue, Camilla thought; she had it...not.

"'Refrain tonight'," Agape continued in his quote of Hamlet's pleading to Gertrude. "'And that shall lend a kind of easiness/To the next abstinence; the next more easy;/For use almost can change the stamp of nature,/And either curb the devil, or throw him out,/With wondrous potency.' Hamlet is telling his mother to 'resist the devil, and he will flee from you', as it says in the epistle of James. Good advice to all sinners, indeed, if only we'd listen."

"Oh, Daddy," Camilla sighed, almost swooning in her admiration of him. Staring at him with glowing eyes, she was so enthralled by his erudite speaking that she ignored the content of his words--a content that, had she heeded it, would have suited her well. "I love you so much, infinitely," she whispered, teary-eyed. Then she checked the time on her cell-phone. "Uh-oh." Dr. Lee is having his office hours now, she thought; time to suck his cock, if I can get him to stop resisting me. Do forgive my infidelities, Daddy. I've always been a bad girl. All those other men have my body, but you'll always have my heart. She left the classroom.

****************

That night, she sat on her bed, reading. Her cell-phone rang, and she picked it up. "Hello?" she said.

"It's me," Father Josiah said. "We have to talk about what happened last Saturday night."

"OK," she said. "Let's go to that hotel again."

"Camilla, let's not have sex this time. I want to talk to you, to save your soul, to save you from yourself."

"No sex, no talking to me. No talking, no saving my soul; so if you wanna save my soul, you gotta fuck me. I'll see you at the hotel in twenty minutes. Bye." She hung up.

****************

Again, she lay naked on the bed, and he, in regular clothes, sat on the side of the bed, with a troubled look in his eyes.

"You're much sexier in your priest's outfit," she said, running her hands through his hair.

"Stop it!" he said. "Let's get right to it. What happened between you and Agape?"

"Look, we fucked, accidentally. We were too wasted to know what we were doing. It won't happen again."

"You seem to be taking this rather lightly, Camilla. You committed incest: aren't you ashamed?"

"Well, I'm not proud of it, Father," she said, annoyed. "I was shaking all Sunday, didn't you see me at church? But some time went by, the initial shock wore off, and I know it was just an accident. I didn't wanna have sex with my father, but I do wanna have sex with you, Father." She tickled his chin.

"Stop that," he said.

"Speaking of shame, you had sex with Candice that night, didn't you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Well, I don't wanna talk about the 'evil' of incest. People who live in glass houses, Father Virtue. Now come on, let's fuck."

He got naked and got on the bed, behind her; she'd got on all fours. With both her pussy and asshole on display for him, she looked back at him with eyes that told him he had a choice of hole. Naturally, he chose her vagina. He slid his hard cock in slowly, loving the wet tightness of those vaginal walls as they eagerly embraced his burning cock. As he fucked her doggy-style, she held her buttocks wide open so he could see her asshole more clearly.

"You can...fuck my...ass, if you like," she said in a shaky voice. "Ah!"

"Don't...be disgusting," he grunted. "Unh!"

"Don't be...so boring. Oh!"

"I'm boring away...just fine...as it is," he moaned.

"That's the spirit. Oh! Make jokes. Lighten up. Be happy. Ah!"

"I'm going...to..."

"OK." She had him pull his cock out. "Stand up," she said.

Kneeling before the standing priest, she jerked him off, and he sprayed his come all over her face. She giggled.

"That's disgusting," he said as his come continued to splash on her.

"It's raining," she said with an ear-to-ear grin.

At least my seed isn't spilling on the ground, he thought; in this way, I may just avoid Onan's fate.

*****************

On Friday night, Camilla was reading in her bedroom again. She looked out the window: more rain. Bored with her reading, and impatiently waiting for Marcel, her Parisian Facebook friend and admirer, to arrive in Toronto and meet her in Club Ritz the next day, she left her bedroom and went downstairs to see her father in the living room.

Agape was there, on his chair drinking again, and listening to a CD of Neil Young's Harvest. He'd just finished his third glass of bourbon.

"Shall I fix you another drink, Daddy?" she asked, taking his glass.

"Sure; thanks, sweetie," he said in slurs, then belched.

"My pleasure," she said as she took the glass into the kitchen. She was surprised and impressed with her ability to resist trying to seduce Agape a second time. Now that almost a week had gone by since she'd committed incest with him, the temptation had been getting weaker and weaker with each passing night. Having made love with Alex, Candice, and Father Josiah also made it easier to keep her hands off her father.

But now, she wanted to party.

She took a pill of ecstasy from her pants pocket, broke it in half, and mixed one half in the bourbon she'd made for him. Then she got a can of beer from the fridge for herself. She popped the other half of the ecstasy in her mouth, and took a gulp of beer to wash it down. After that, she took the drinks into the living room.

Giving him his bourbon, she asked, "Wanna smoke a joint?"

"OK," he said after sipping his Jim Beam. "But let's not get too crazy tonight; remember, no Candice."

"Don't worry about that," she said, getting out her marijuana and papers from the coffee table drawer. "Candice is not invited. It's just you and me...alone."

"Good," he said. "I want to be faithful to Carrie. She is the only woman in my life, now and forever."

"Right," she said, trying to hide her jealousy. She rolled a marijuana cigarette, lit it, took a few puffs, and gave it to him.

"Thank you," he said, then took a few puffs. Coughing a bit, he then passed it back to her. "With each passing night, it's getting easier and easier to resist the charms of your red--uh, black-haired friend."

The song 'Old Man" was playing; Camilla, sitting on the floor, looked up at Agape and sang along. "Old man, look at my life, I'm a lot like you were."

A half hour passed, of drinking three drinks each and smoking two doobs, and the ecstasy was finally kicking in. Agape's body was tingling, as was Camilla's. He fidgeted in a trance-like state, and she could see that he was no longer completely aware of what was going on. Her use of Nigrovum would make him even less aware, while at the same time she would use her psychic gifts to keep herself aware of what she was doing.




Camilla Ch. 070



"I gotta pee," she said, and left the living room.

After her pee, she went up to the bedroom and changed into a dress she'd bought that evening, one that looked almost identical to one she'd seen Carrie wearing earlier that day. Though her hair and eyes were almost all black now, she used Nigrovum to make them absolutely so. She went back downstairs and into the living room to join Agape.

He was peaking on the E; then he looked up at her. "Carrie?" he asked.

"Yes, it's me," Camilla said, using Nigrovum to make him see his girlfriend's face and hear her voice. "I thought I'd make a surprise visit." She dropped her dress on the floor, revealing her nakedness to her father.

"Wait," he slurred. "Camilla's here. What if she sees you?"

"She won't. I told her we want to be alone. She understands: she went back up to her room to party alone." Camilla walked closer to him. "Let's make love."

"Oh, OK."

He got off his chair and unzipped his pants. She put some dirty old towels on the floor for them to lie on. He pulled off his pants and underwear, and lay on the towels. She got on top of him in the cowgirl position. She used Nigrovum to give him an erection, then aimed her pussy over his hard cock.

"You look...so much sexier these days," he said, not realizing he was looking at Camilla's body with Carrie's face. "Your boobs are bigger."

"Do you like them, Da--Aga?"

"Oh, yeah," he grunted. He reached up and started fondling them.

She was now feeding his cock into her wet pussy; its thickness stimulated her every nook and cranny. As soon as it touched her G-spot, she gushed her first coming. Then his cock went in an inch deeper. She was squealing louder and louder the further it went in. Finally, it went in the last inch or two very quickly, poking against her A-spot. She screamed, and came a second time.

Now she was bouncing on his cock like a bareback bronc rider, screaming with an ecstasy that made the half-pill she'd taken seem like aspirin.

Though the tightness of her pussy was thrilling to Agape, it strangely didn't feel like Carrie's. Also, she never screamed like that.

"My goodness, Carrie; you're really h-horny tonight."

"Oh, yes, yes! Ah! I love you, Da--Agape. Oh!" Camilla wanted to say how sorry she was for having sex with so many other people, for not being faithful to her one true love. If only you could approve of my forbidden love, she thought; if only society would approve, then we could be lovers openly, and I would give up all my other lovers to be with you--only you! As long as we were always, always fucking!

She came a third time, then got off of him. She scooped up some of the come that got on the dirty towels and smeared it on her asshole, then slid her finger inside to use her come to lubricate her rectum. When she was fully lubed, she held her father's cock and aimed it at her gaping asshole.

"Can you...sit up, please?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he said, sitting up. He felt his cock pushing against her anal orifice. "Where are you putting my thing, honey?"

"Somewhere special." She sat down slowly and gently, letting his cock push its way in gradually. "Oh!" He was half-way in now.

"Wait...are you putting him...in your ass?"

"Yes, oh! Yes!" He was three-quarters of the way in.

"I never knew...you could be...such a...bad girl. My God, that feels good! Unh!" He was all the way in now.

She'd never sat on her father's lap this way before, but she sure wished she had! And she knew she'd want to do so, again and again! His long, thick cock was digging tunnels that had never been dug in her ass before! The anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall was vibrating with delight. He put his hands on her tits and squeezed them gently, while smelling her fragrant hair, the tresses of which danced on his face and chest as she went up and down on him.

She enjoyed an anal orgasm, then got up, feeling his cock slip out of her ass, making a deliciously tingling sensation there. She turned around and brought her head down on his cock. Uncomfortable on the floor, he got up and sat on his chair again, putting the towels under his ass so the chair would stay clean. She, kneeling, got between his legs and looked up into his eyes as she brought his cock to her lips. She kissed and licked the tip, then put it a third of the way inside her mouth.

Her tongue tickled the underside of his cock, just under his knob. As she continued sucking him off, she kept her eyes fixed on his, to communicate the boundless love she felt for him. I wanna please you, Daddy, she expressed with her eyes; you more than any other man, or woman. If only this were a socially acceptable way for a father to be proud of his daughter. I want to be your only lover. Dump Carrie, please! You're the best, the very best! No one can do it like you can, Daddy! I love you so much, and I can't tell you, except by deceit!

He looked down at her, seeing Carrie's face but finding it hard to believe that his girlfriend could suddenly be so skillful at giving head! Since enjoying it was better than analyzing it, he decided not to think about all the anomalies of this evening.

"I'm gonna come," he groaned.

She pulled his cock out of her mouth with a popping sound, and briefly jerked him off. Remembering to keep the towels right under her to avoid making an incriminating mess on the carpet, she was ready for a fatherly facial. He spouted his first blast on her nose, then a squirt on her right cheek. After that, she got sprayed in her left eye, and the last shot hit her lips. The remaining ooze she wiped on the still-dry parts of her face. She looked up at him and giggled lewdly.

"Carrie," he said. "I thought you hated men who did that on you."

"Things change, Da-Agape, for the better," she said. Then she helped him put his pants and underwear back on, picked up the towels, and left the living room to clean everything up.

He sat back down in his chair, stunned at what an incredible lay he'd just had. "That was too good to be true," he said to himself.



Camilla Ch. 071



At 6:30 on Saturday evening, Camilla sat at a table in Club Ritz, waiting for Marcel to arrive. Candice was giving someone lap dances, so Camilla was alone, free to contemplate her current sexual situation.

Unlike her first fuck with Agape, Friday night was much more successful: those dirty old towels had absorbed all of her come, and he didn't get any on himself. She remembered her conversation with him on Saturday morning vividly:

"Did Carrie come over last night, Camilla?" he asked when his daughter came into the kitchen and kissed him on the cheek.

"No, Daddy," she said, starting to prepare coffees for both of them.

"Well, when we were partying, I would have sworn I'd made love with her in the living room," he said.

"No, Daddy, that couldn't have happened," she said. "I was with you the whole time. You must have passed out and dreamed the whole thing."

"I guess," he said, with a confused look in his eyes. "Funny thing: she had the body of a twenty-year old."

"If you saw that, then you were definitely dreaming," she lied.

She hated having to lie to her father, but if she'd said his girlfriend had come over, he may have asked her about it later, and she would have denied coming over; thus making him realize his daughter had lied to him in a much more incriminating way. So Camilla had covered all of her tracks--her father hadn't the slightest suspicion she'd made him commit incest with her.

Her body tingled with pleasure from knowing she'd successfully made love with Agape, an extra pleasure she correctly sensed was Nigrovum aiding her delight. These upbeat feelings encouraged her, knowing what Dr. Singh had told her about the dangers of fear, depression, and despair. She sensed that he was right about those deadly emotions, for whenever she felt low, something seemed to weigh her down further...this had to be Nigrovum adding to her gloom. Whenever she felt distressed, as when she first realized she'd had sex with her father, her body shook with an agitation that made her almost topple over, as though she were standing where an earthquake was hitting. Again, she figured this was probably Nigrovum adding to her anxieties. She'd have to e-mail Dr. Singh and ask him about these feelings she'd been recently having.

One thing she'd forgotten to do on Friday night was set up the psychic barriers; her dreams weren't nearly as bad as they could have been, though. Three new incubi enjoyed her in a gang-bang: Miles Holland, Dr. Davis, and M. Larre! They were, respectively, fucking her mouth, her pussy, and her ass.

She pulled Miles's cock out of her mouth. "You all died?" she asked, then started licking the underside of his cock.

"Yes, unfortunately," he sighed. "It...wasn't your fault; it was...the bitch's. Oh!"

"Still, sorry," she said between licks. Had Agape come into her bedroom at that time, he'd have sworn his daughter, lying on her bed with her flickering tongue out, was doing an impression of Linda Blair in the climactic scene of the Exorcist.

"I...don't blame...you either," said Dr. Davis as he pumped his cock in and out of her cunt. "Some...mafia scumbag took...me out. Unh! Knowing what...my wife was doing...with that marine, I kinda lost...my will to live, anyway."

"Oh, no," she said, then took Miles's cock back in her mouth. Someone watching the dream would have seen a poking bulge in dreaming Camilla's right cheek.

"Me, I did...too much speedball," Larre said as his cock probed her asshole. "I was depressed about...the future of...my business. I wanted to...get high to...cheer up. Ah!" Again, anyone in her bedroom watching her would have seen her pussy and asshole gaping, with the vibrating movements of invisible cocks going in and out of her.

"We're not...mad at you," moaned Miles. "We just...wanna fuck you...to cheer up...down here...in hell."

She pulled his cock out of her mouth with a popping sound. "Hell?" she asked.

"There's that little bitch!" Collette shouted as she approached them; but the four lovers used their combined psychic power to throw the ghost of Camilla's angry mother far away. The fucking continued.

Though Camilla was sad to know these three men had died, she found it pleasant to know that not all of those ghosts were malevolent. In fact, when she'd woken up from her very wet dream, she cheerfully replaced her come-soaked bedsheets, and considered not setting up psychic barriers for those nights when she hadn't found a lover. Those dream-fucks were fantastic, in more than just the literal sense. She just had to keep the bad ghosts away.

She looked over at the front door to the strip joint, and just then, she saw a tall man walk in. She instantly recognized him as Marcel: he wore a light orange dress shirt and black pants. Remembering the Facebook photos of her that he especially liked, she wore the jean shorts and light green sleeveless top she'd had on in the photo he'd commented on, saying, 'Sweetie-pie!' This reaction of his made her correctly sense that his fantasy girl was essentially like her shy, submissive 'Angel' persona--the one Mr. Grisham liked, only with more girlie giggling. Seeing him approach her table, she immediately went into character.

"Camilla?" Marcel asked.

"Marcel! Bonsoir!" she said in a gleeful, high-pitched voice. She got up and hugged him. With her head level with his chest, she looked up at him and said, "You're so tall and I'm so short." Then she giggled like a little girl.

Looking down at the pretty girl in an affectedly avuncular attitude, he said, "Yes, you're just a little baby, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, still hugging him, doing a sexy pout, and looking up at him with glowing, childlike eyes. "Hey, let's go into a private room so I can give you free lap dances."

"OK," he said. She took him by the hand and led him into a private room. He sat on a couch, and she sat on his lap. "You're wearing the outfit you had on in my favourite pictures of you."

"Yeah," she said, 'shyly' giggling. "I still remember your reaction to a picture my friend, Candice, took of my bum; I was in these shorts, and I stuck my bum out at her camera."

"I remember that one. I said, 'Callipygian!'"

"That's what I like about you, Marcel: your comments are so much smarter than what most guys say--like, 'ooh, baby, nice ass, I wanna bite it!' You don't say things like that. You're sophisticated; you have class."

"Merci, chérie."

"De rien. Speaking of my bum, wanna see it? I wanna get naked for you." She got up and unzipped her shorts.

"I'd love that," he said, smiling as he saw her shorts fall down to her feet. He ogled her white panties as she pulled off her top with a wiggle of her breasts. "What I like about you is your warmth and friendliness on Facebook. When a man my age gives compliments to pretty girls your age on the internet, they usually react with rude hostility." Now she was dancing around in only her shoes and panties, with her hand down in front, fingering her clitoris. "Now, many men are rude enough to the girls to deserve rudeness back, but not all of us do. You're different: you actually encourage me, you naughty girl."

"That's 'cause I think men your age are sexy," she said as she pulled down her panties.

"You shaved," he said, admiring her hairless mons veneris.

"D'you like it?" she asked, pulling her feet out the leg holes of her panties. "If you don't, I can grow it all back, faster than you can imagine, believe me."

"Oh, no, no, no; I like it. It's beautiful."

"Thanks." She kicked off her high heels. Raising her arms up in the air and swaying her hips in a proud display of her frontal nudity, she said, "Me voila, en fleche."

"Oui, ma belle."

"And here's my bare bum." She turned around for him and stuck her ass out at his face as she had in the photo Candice had taken of her.

"Callipygian."

She giggled her thanks. "Wanna touch?"

"How much of you am I allowed to touch in here?"

"All of me, of course." She spread her legs and bent over so he could see her asshole and pussy.

"You're a dream come true," he said, gently putting his finger an inch inside her vagina.

"Oh, sir, touch me here," she said, directing his finger down and forward a bit. "My G-spot; there, that gets me hot. Oh!"

"Oh, that's nice," he said, lightly rubbing his finger in that very moist area.

"You can touch...my butt-hole, too, if you want. Lots of men...like to," she said in sighs.

"Avec plaisir," he said, and took his finger out of her cunt. He was now gently stroking her wrinkled, brown anal lips.

"Wanna taste me?"

He bent over and licked her anus; he now had both his right index and long fingers massaging her cunt, which was dripping wet. His left hand opened her left buttock wider to make her asshole more accessible to his eager tongue.

Always bent over, she stroked the bulge in his pants with one hand, and fingered her clit with the other.

"I'm gonna come," she moaned. "Oh!"

"Already?"

"Yeah. Wanna eat it?"

"Sure."

"Open wide, sir."

He took his fingers out of her cunt, and pushed his wide-open lips against the periphery of her pussy. His tongue briefly tickled the edges of her vaginal orifice. She then poured a waterfall of come into his thirsty mouth. Though her whistle-register scream startled him and pierced his eardrums, he kept his head relatively still, and he got almost all of her come in his mouth. Only a little dribbled down the side of his mouth; the rest of her gushing was happily gulped down.

After swallowing it all, he said, "Incroyable."

"Thank you, sir," she said, sitting on his erection.

"Why do you call me 'sir'?" he asked in groans as her soft buttocks rubbed against the bulge in his pants.

"Oh, habit," she sighed.

"What habit?"

"My lovers...are usually teachers."

"I see," he moaned, putting his hands on her breasts.

"What are...you doing tonight?" She was grinding harder now.

"Nothing, just with you." He gently squeezed her breasts.

"Wanna take me...to your hotel...and fuck me?"

"Of course. Unh!" He pinched her nipples.

"When do...you want...to go?"

"As soon...as possible."

"OK," she moaned. "I'll suck...your cock first. Oh!" She got up and turned around. Then she knelt between his legs and unzipped his pants.

"Can I put him between your lovely breasts?"

"Of course, sir, I mean Marcel." She pulled his cock out; when she saw its huge size, her eyes almost popped out of her head, and her jaw dropped to the floor.

"You like him?"

"He's beautiful," she said, wrapping her breasts tightly around 'him', and sliding them up and down. She looked up in his eyes as she tit-fucked him.

He looked down at her and stroked her hair. "You're so beautiful."

"You're so handsome."

"Did you...dye your hair?"

"Uh, yeah," she lied. "Do you like it?"

"Yes. It's pretty. You're a dirtier blonde now. Oh!"

"Fitting for such a bad girl, eh?" She giggled lewdly. "You're gonna come soon, right?"

"Yeah...soon."

"Where do you wanna spray it?"

"On your tits, if that's OK?"

"Yes, sir," she said. She then unwrapped her breasts and jerked him off, keeping his cock pointed at them. He sprayed his load first on her left nipple; then on her right breast, to the left of the nipple; then on her cleavage; and finally on her right nipple. She wiped his cock's oozing remainder on the dry areas of her breasts.

He put his spent cock away, and smiled as she brought her tits up to her mouth and licked his come off them.

"Let me take you to dinner," he said.

"Oh, I'd love that!" she squealed, jumping up to her feet. "I have my black and white striped dress here, in the change room. The tight-fitting one, you know? You saw me in it for one of my Facebook pictures. Remember?"

"You mean your 'deesse' dress?"

"Yes! That one. Want me to wear it?"

"Oh, definitely."

*******************

A half hour later, they were in Giovanni's, having already ordered.

"This is a nice restaurant, Marcel said.

"Yeah," Camilla said. "I come here all the time."

"So, you liked my song?"

"I love it. It's on my iPod. Here, I'll show you." She gave it to him and played the song.

"That's my song."

"If you'd come to Club Ritz when I was onstage, you'd have heard it then."

"I'm flattered."

"You're amazing," she said. "No one ever wrote a song for me before."

"I can't believe that. You're Euterpe."

"Euterpe? What's that?"

"The Muse of music--a goddess."

"Oh, Marcel," she sighed, beaming at him. "You're so sweet to me. My girlfriend Candice was all wrong about you. She thought you were just one of those creepy old guys who lust after young girls online, but you're not. You're special, and I'm gonna fuck and suck you like you've never been fucked or sucked before."

"Camilla, we're in Giovanni's, remember? Please keep your voice down."

"Oops. Sorry." She blushed, covering her face.

*******************

An hour later, they were naked, on his bed in his hotel room.

He was giving it to her doggy-style. As his cock ploughed away inside her pussy, his right index finger was deep inside her rectum, sliding in and out in movements that alternated with the in-and-out movements of his cock. His other hand was cupped around her left breast. She was letting out high-pitched staccato squeals of pleasure with each gentle jab of the knob of his cock against her A-spot. His cock and balls were already covered in the come of three of her orgasms, and a fourth was soon to follow.

"Rub your...finger down...on the...low wall...of my poop-hole," she sighed in pitches bordering on the whistle register. "It gets...me hotter."

"OK," he grunted, then his finger stroked the anal wall that was against her vaginal wall.

She now felt a bright tingling in both holes, as if her pussy and asshole were mouths that had each dropped a pill of ecstasy, and were now peaking on it. She showered his cock and balls with her fourth orgasm.

"You're a...fucking fountain, Camilla."

"Wanna fuck...my ass now?"

"Oh, yeah." He scooped up some of her come and smeared it against her asshole, then he moved his wet fingers inside, thoroughly lubricating her rectum. Now he aimed his cock at her gaping asshole, and pushed it in an inch. "Ooh!"

She looked back at him with her mouth agape, welcoming his manhood inside. He pushed in a few inches further.

"Oh!" she groaned. "Deeper!"

He pushed all the way in. "Unh!" Now his cock was taking up every millimetre of room inside her rectum--no spare space anywhere.

She loved feeling her anal walls stretched out and stimulated like that. He slid in and out slowly and gracefully at first, then as he got more and more excited, his thrusts grew faster and more aggressive. She craved every second of her anal impaling; his cock was so big, it felt as if it were half-way inside her entire body. His balls were slapping against her pussy. Frantically fingering her hard clitoris, she could feel an anal orgasm coming. He kept pumping, and she came her fifth time, cupping her hand under and catching most of her cooze. His hands were on her tits, gently squeezing them.

"Here," she said, bringing her hand with the come in it up to him. "Wanna drink my come?"

"Sure," he said, bending down and drinking it from her hand. When he finished drinking, he asked, "Where do...you want me...to come?"

"Not in...my ass, OK?"

"OK." He slowly pulled his cock out of her asshole, then she got off the bed. He sat on the side of the bed, and she knelt between his knees. Looking up in his eyes with a lewd smile, she kissed and licked the tip of his cock. Then she took his knob in her mouth, her wet lips caressing it. He looked down at her, stroking her hair, now mostly black with only a few streaks of blonde left. She took his cock half of the way in; her tongue quickly vibrated against his corpus spongiosum. "Oh, baby. Your mouth...is magic."

She moaned her thanks, and deep-throated him, always with her eyes locked on his to see his reaction to her skills. She puffed exhalations from her nose against his pubic hair. From where he was looking down at her, she looked as though she was wearing a fake bushy moustache. She played with his balls, shaking them gently and lightly scratching his scrotum with her fingernails. Sensing he was about to come, she pulled her head back, releasing his cock with a popping sound. Then she held his shaft in her hand, and gave it a squeeze; this was enough to make him blow his load.

His first shot hit her right between the eyes; the next hit her nose. She was giggling and screaming with glee the whole time. The third shot hit her upper lip; the fourth, her left eye; and the last, her right cheek. She wiped what was dripping from his dick-hole against her dry left cheek.

Looking up at him and giggling like a little girl, she asked, "Do I look pretty?"

"Oh, yes," he said, looking down at her in awe and amazement. "That looks better than makeup."

"Ooh!" she said suddenly, jumping up to her feet. "I gotta go pee-pee."

"Oh, pee on me, please?" he asked. "One good soaking deserves another."

"Sure," she said, his come still dripping off her cheeks and chin. "Let's go in your bathtub." She walked towards the bathroom, wiping his come out of her eye.

"OK," he said, and he followed her. She let him get in the shower stall first, and he lay on his back in the bathtub. She then got in and squatted over him; some drops of his come dripped off her face and onto his chest.

Her fingers spread her vulva wide open so he could see her urethral opening. "Are you ready?"

"And eager," he said in breathy expectation, looking down at her urethra, impatient to see the first drops of her apple juice.

Then it started to pour out on his chest in a glorious line of yellow. It bounced off in all directions, with drops hitting his arms, belly, face, and neck. His navel was getting a cupful, filled to the brim. He was moaning in ecstasy.

She was moaning also, but simply in relief. He enjoyed hearing that, too; in fact, he was starting to get another erection.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"I love it," he sighed. "On my face, please?"

"Yes, sir," she said, moving up. She pissed the remainder on his face, hitting his eyes, nose, and mouth. Droplets sprinkled against his ears and hair, and his whole face was drowning in the pleasure of pee-pee. He allowed a little to go inside his mouth and nostrils. When she was finished, he was coughing and sneezing, and his cock was rock hard again. "How was that, Marcel?"

"F-fucking fantastic!" he grunted. "You are simply divine."

"I'm glad you liked it. Let me give you a hand job." She grabbed his cock and slid her hand up and down the long, thick shaft, looking lewdly in his eyes. She kept it pointed at her belly, and squeezed it whenever her hand came up to the knob; when her hand went down to the base, she held it more gently. Then her fingers tickled the underside, where his corpus spongiosum met his knob. After a minute or two of jerking him off like this, he ejaculated on her belly, causing her navel to be as full of his come as his navel was full of her pee. "Did you enjoy that, sir?"

"Absolutely, sweetheart," he panted. "What a wonderful trip...to Canada this...has been. Even if...the rest of...my time here...is terrible, seeing you alone...has made...it worth the...price of...the plane tickets. It's so sad...that I'll have to...be moving on...first thing tomorrow; I have friends in Hamilton waiting for me. Still, I'm so glad we got together. Merci, ma deesse."




Camilla Ch. 071



"De rien, mon dieu païen."

*******************

On Sunday at Mass, Father Josiah's homily was about sacrifice. While Agape paid close attention, Camilla just sat there, bored.

"Jesus tells us, 'Those who want to save their life will lose it; but those who lose their life for my sake will save it," Josiah quoted from Luke. "We mustn't cling to the pleasures of this world. We must let go of our attachment to them, and love God instead, with all our heart."

The priest was saddened to see Camilla so uninterested in what he was saying, for he so desperately needed her to hear him. When he first knew her, he felt a contradictory mix of mere lust for her body and Christian concern for her soul; but his feelings had now grown to those of love and pity for her. He sensed the pain and spiritual struggle she was hiding behind her lewd giggles and blithe sinfulness, unaware that it was Nigrovum that was giving him this insight. He was also beginning to feel that emotion that was much more dangerous than the deadly sin of lust. He was falling in love with her.

"'No man has a greater love than this,'" he continued, quoting the Gospel of John. "'That a man may lay down his life for his friends.' We say we love those we care about; but do we, really? Or do we just idolize them, loving a mere image of them in our minds? What would we give up for those we love? Jesus loves us so much, He died for us. What about you? What will you do for those you care for?"

Still, Camilla showed little interest in his words; she just smiled lasciviously at him. He was full of conflict: he wanted her, but wanted to serve God; he wanted to win her soul to Christ, but if he didn't sleep with her, she'd never even be in earshot of him, let alone heed his words. The closest he could come to having her in a Christian way at all was to quit the priesthood, something that would break his heart, and make his mother cry from heaven. After making such a sacrifice, he could hope--however feebly--to get her to agree to marry him; then he could make an honest woman of her, and make this lost sheep come back to the Catholic fold. Thus would he redeem himself for his recent sins. Still, one thing made this hope a non-existent hope: she liked him only as a priest.

He was willing to die for her, but only Christ was fit for that sacrifice. In his temptation to despair, he felt like he wanted to die, for his sadness was weighing him down in a way he'd never felt before. He tried to use his Christian faith to prop himself up, but her challenges to it--sexual as well as intellectual--had shaken his faith, too.

O, wretched man that I am! he thought.

********************

On Monday night, Camilla was in her green dress with the flower pattern, the one she wore in Club Ritz when she stripped for Dr. Lee. She was walking around the York campus, looking for him, when she sensed that Asian stalker behind her. She looked back, and saw the frumpy, overweight girl go to hide behind a nearby tree. Camilla walked over.

"Who is that?" she asked. No answer. "Come on, show yourself. I'm getting tired of being followed."

The girl came forward.

"Akemi?" Camilla asked. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Akemi said timidly. "Sorry I follow you. I study in York, too."

"Yeah, I remember you saying so before. Why didn't you just come up and say hi?"

"I too scared."

"Am I so scary, Akemi?"

"I'm afraid you reject me again." An eerie heaviness seemed to be weighing down on the Japanese-Canadian girl, a heaviness Camilla could psychically feel.

"Oh, sweetie," Camilla said. "Don't think that; I won't reject you." Then she walked up closer to Akemi and stroked her hair. With a lewd smile, she asked, "Wanna lick my pussy again?"

"Well, yeah, but--"

"OK, let's go somewhere private; or do you wanna do it in public?"

"I don't want just sex, Camilla," Akemi said, her face welling up with tears. "I want you love me, like I do you."

"Baby, I can't. Sorry."

"Why?" Akemi asked, audibly sobbing. "I fall in love with you."

"Because I...I'm in love with someone else. I'm so sorry." Camilla was choking up herself, in compassion for the poor girl.

"Oh, no hope!" Akemi yelled, running away and crying loudly. As she ran, she felt that heaviness slow her down, the heaviness of Nigrovum-intensified depression and despair. Camilla could feel it, remembering how she sometimes felt it when she was depressed about something. It was obvious that she'd passed Nigrovum on to Akemi when they'd had sexual contact back in Luvlee's. The desire she'd felt for Camilla had grown stronger, and now her heartbreak was stronger; Camilla knew there was a danger the girl would lose her will to live, and that Nigrovum would kill her. She ran after Akemi.

As she was running, Camilla saw Dr. Lee walking by; suddenly, she felt her emotions change. Her compassionate warmth was quickly, and inexplicably, heating up into lust for him. Even as little as two months ago, she could control her nymphomaniac urges when something more important had come up. Between her experience in the Satanic mansion and her coming to Toronto, she'd had very little sex, sacrificing gratification for the need to be constantly praying for God's protection from the Satanists. Now, when she could feel Akemi about to commit a desperate act, Camilla just let that problem go, as if she were 'not sweating the small stuff', and for what? To fuck.

She ran up to Dr. Lee. "Hi, sir," she said in her uninhibited 'Kitty' persona.

"Oh, hi," Dr. Lee said. "Your hair is getting darker and--"

"Where ya going?"

"To my office."

"Can I come with you?"

"Oh, OK," he said with a mixture of arousal and worry about what she obviously wanted from him. Though he wanted to resist for the sake of his wife, he could feel something stopping that resistance. Camilla's Nigrovum.

They went into his office and she locked the door. She took off her jacket as he went to sit at his chair. Then she stood before him, unbuttoning the front of her dress.

"Wait, Camilla. I'm married, remember?"

"Oh, come on, let's have some fun, sir," she said in her 'Kitty' voice, letting her dress fall to the floor. She was wearing the same white bra and panties she'd worn when he saw her at Club Ritz, and he could see that.

"You wore that tonight on purpose, didn't you?" he asked as she danced in her underwear.

"Of course. I wanna please you." She took off her bra, and brushed her breasts against his face.

"Are you sure you're not just doing this for yourself?" His erection was a pointy bump in his pants.

"Come on, sir, you know you want to fuck me," she said, pulling down her panties.

"You are very exciting, but--"

"But what?" She pulled her feet out of the leg holes of her panties, then kicked off her high heels. The naked girl bent over and brought her face up to his.

"But I'm--" Before he could finish his sentence, she kissed him hard on the mouth. Using Nigrovum to break his resistance, she slid her tongue inside his mouth. She sat on his lap, facing him, and put her arms around his shoulders. He put his hands on her ass, gently squeezing her soft buttocks. She put her hand on his erection; since he was wearing loose pants, she could wrap her fingers around his cock and gently jerk him off as if he were naked. He started fingering her anus.

She stopped French-kissing him. "Wanna put your finger inside my butt, sir?" 'Kitty' asked.

"Yeah," he said, pushing his index finger an inch inside her asshole.

"I know how much you like putting things inside there," she said in remembrance of the twenty-dollar bill, insouciantly allowing him to probe her rectum.

"Yes, I do," he grunted.

"Would you like to put your phallus in there?" she asked, squeezing his erection particularly tightly.

"Wait. Uh..."

"Let me get my purse," she said, getting up. His finger slid out of her asshole as she walked over to get her purse, which was by the door. She got out her tube of anal lubricant and handed it over to him.

Taking it, he said, "I shouldn't. N-no, Camilla, I-I don't want to." His hands were shaking.

"If not, then why aren't you giving me back my tube of lube?" she asked with an inscrutably calm, but lewd, grin.

"W-wel, I--"

"Come on, sir," she said, getting down on the floor on all fours with her ass pointed out at him so he could see her pretty brown anus. "You know you want to." She now put her fingers on her asshole and stretched it open for his hungry eyes to see. "You want to put it in my poo-poo hole." She then giggled like a little girl.

"No, Camilla. I-I love my..."

"Come on." She used Nigrovum to visualize his cock coming straight at her ass; and indeed, his pointy erection was pulling him from his chair and bringing him to the floor behind her. He knelt there, just inches from her ass, and the painful pressure of his dick pushing against his pants forced him to unzip them and pull out his cock. "That's a good boy."

He lubed his cock, then her rectum, all mechanically, because it was more her influence than his own lust that made him do it. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said as he pushed his knob against her welcoming asshole. "I really can't."

"I can," she sighed as his cock went in an inch. "Oh!"

He pushed in another few inches, or rather was pulled in by Camilla's psychic control. Finally, just like Alex, Dr. Lee simply resigned himself to being an adulterer, and pushed in the rest of the way himself. "Unh!"

He reached forward and grabbed her tits. "That's the spirit, sir! Oh!" she groaned.

"What's going on in there?" a female voice from outside the office said.

Shit! Camilla thought; I forgot to take care of the outside people. She had to think fast, and the pleasurable sensations she was feeling were a distraction to her concentration. She simply decided to use the expelling power she'd used in her dream with Miles, Dr. Davis, and M. Larre to push all the people on that floor out of earshot of her and Dr. Lee. As she enjoyed his cock massaging her rectal walls, she synchronized the feeling with a visualization of everyone on their floor being pushed through the hall, by a giant, invisible dick, towards the stairs and elevator.

"What the fuck?" the woman's voice was heard to say. "What's pushing me?"

Two other voices of surprised and confused people were heard saying similar things as they were all pushed down the hall toward the elevator, which Camilla brought to their floor, opening the doors. The three people were pushed in, the doors closed, and the elevator went down to the ground floor.

As Camilla continued gleefully receiving Dr. Lee's cock in her ass, she fingered her clit. He was still fondling her tits. While normally her moans got higher and higher in pitch with the increase of her arousal, now they were almost the opposite: they sounded eerily hoarse and low-pitched. If one were to see her from the front, one would be shocked to see the wild look in her eyes. Her hair was getting darker, and individual tresses of it were sticking out, as though someone had put his hands in her hair and messed it up.

"Don't come in my ass," she said in her increasingly grotesque voice, the one she had when she attacked Miles's wife in the bathroom. "Shoot it on my butt-cheeks."

Scared at the sound of her voice, he pulled his cock out. She reached back, briefly jerked him off, and he came first on her anal cleft, then on her left buttock, then on her right buttock, and finally on her left buttock, along the gluteal sulcus.

He put his spent dick back in his pants and zipped himself up. Then he looked at her disheveled hair.

"Camilla," he said in astonishment. "Your hair. What happened to it?"

She got up and looked in a mirror he had by the door. He watched his come dripping prettily off her buttocks, but quickly got some Kleenex and put it on the floor to prevent a stain.

She got a brush out of her purse and brushed her hair back into place. "What's wrong with my hair?" she asked, her voice coming back to normal. "It's beautiful. My daddy's gonna love how I look."

"But you were a dirty blonde before."

"That's me: a dirty little bad girl."

"How did your hair change so suddenly?"

"What's the big deal?" she asked in her normal voice, turning around. "I like my new look."

"And your eyes!"

"So?" Though her voice was back to normal, her change in looks wasn't going back.

"You were a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl."

"Don't you like my new look?" she asked. Daddy's gonna be hot for me now, she thought, grinning.

"It's not a question of liking; it's just so supernatural. How'd your hair and eyes suddenly turn all black like that?"



Camilla Ch. 072



On Tuesday morning, Camilla went down into the kitchen to make breakfast for herself and Agape; as she did so, she thought about all the incubi and other 'ghosts' (if that was what they were) who'd been visiting and fucking her in her dreams. The night before, she'd set up psychic barriers that were more selective in whom they blocked out; these new barriers allowed only Miles Holland, Dr. Davis, and M. Larre to come in. Those three incubi gave her another good gang-bang, and before going into the kitchen, Camilla had just replaced her come-stained bedsheets.

Still, she was worried: if Mrs. Holland's ghost was able to use Nigrovum to kill Miles in his sleep, what if she were to try to do the same to Camilla, in revenge for fucking her husband and having her die in her car accident? From then on Camilla would have to be extra careful with vengeful spirits.

When she'd come home on Monday night, she went straight up to her bedroom, leaving her father to continue drinking undisturbed in the living room; so he never saw her new look, with all black hair and black eyes. She had been tempted to get him stoned again and have him make love with her, but she didn't want to press her luck: she would wait a week or so, satisfying her insatiable lust with her profs instead, before daring to commit incest with him again. She was hoping that morning to surprise him, and maybe even excite him, with her new look, since she knew he had a thing for black-haired, black-eyed women.

He came into the kitchen and saw her.

"Camilla?" he said in surprise. "Did you dye your hair?"

"Yeah," she lied, turning to face him. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, but...wait a minute. Your eyes, too. Are you wearing coloured contact lenses?"

"Yeah," she lied again. "Do you like them?"

"Well, no, to be honest. I've always loved your baby blue eyes, sweetie."

Frowning in disappointment, she said, "But I thought you like women who look like this."

"On your mother, I liked it. On Carrie, I like it. But you're my daughter." He put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. However innocent this affection may have been, he felt a strange psychic sensation when touching her, a vaguely sexual feeling. Not wanting at all to acknowledge it, he felt drops of sweat running down his brow. "You don't need to change your looks just for me: I love you just the way you are."

"Oh." Pouting, she bowed her head and pretended to remove cosmetic contact lenses from her eyes. She used Nigrovum to make her eyes temporarily look blue again. "There, is that better?"

"Much better," he said. He would have asked why she wanted to look like women he found sexually attractive. That sexual psychic feeling he'd just had when hugging her, as well as the memory of the strange goings-on during his parties with her, made him not want to ask why, for fear of what her answer would be.

**************

Later that morning at York, she was in class for her Introduction to the Modern British Novel course. Her lecturer was Dr. Abruzzi, a tall, thin man in his early fifties. He wore a dark blue suit, and his hair was more grey than black; but to Camilla, he was very good-looking, and she unzipped her jeans and fingered herself while he quoted a passage from the end of Lady Chatterley's Lover.

"'So I love chastity now,'" Abruzzi quoted, "'because it is the peace that comes of fucking. I love being chaste now. I love it as snowdrops love the snow. I love this chastity, which is the pause of peace of our fucking, between us now...'"

While she loved the eloquent way her teacher spoke, she was also intrigued by his blunt use of profanity in the classroom.

This is the first time I've ever heard a teacher swear in class, she thought; you're a bad boy, Dr. Abruzzi. Psychically sensing that he liked bad girls, she knew how to act when she had a chance to talk with him.

She had intended, even during the previous week, to do her cat moves on him after class; but he was always too busy with other students' questions to be free for her to get to him. She would have used Nigrovum to make everyone go away so she could be alone with him, but she'd recently noticed that using too much Nigrovum at one time tended to dilute its power, and tire her out.

When his lecture ended, she was determined to go after him as he left. When she was in the hallway with him, however, something else took her attention away from him: the screams of female students in a nearby ladies' room. Camilla went in to see what was wrong.

As soon as she saw what all the commotion was about, she buckled and fell to the floor; she lay there in a fetal position, fighting back the urge to vomit. Stuck on a wall in a toilet stall was Akemi's dead body: she'd used Nigrovum to stick herself there after slashing her wrists and carving 'CAMILLA' on her chest! Her bloody knife lay on the floor by the toilet.

The other girls in the washroom commented.

"How could she have done that?" one girl asked. "Carve someone's name on her chest, and take the pain without fainting. And who's Camilla?"

"And how'd she stick herself to the wall like that?" another girl asked.

All abilities one acquires when having Nigrovum in one's blood, as Camilla knew. She correctly inferred that Akemi knew one of Camilla's classes would be near this washroom; Akemi used Nigrovum to have everyone ignore her corpse in the toilet stall until Camilla was in the area. That way, Camilla would see the scene of the suicide for herself. She still lay on the floor, coughing and barely succeeding in her efforts not to throw up. Her whole body shook.

Noticing her particularly intense shock, the first girl squatted down and gently asked Camilla, "Hey, are you going to be OK?"

"Yeah," Camilla grunted in that eerily hoarse voice she had whenever Nigrovum was overwhelming her. "I just need a minute."

"OK," the first girl said, startled by Camilla's strange voice. She got back up and whispered in the ear of the second girl. "I'll bet that's Camilla."

"Maybe she and the Asian were lesbian lovers," the second girl whispered.

Camilla's whole body was oppressed by intense shaking from stress, and also the crushing heaviness of grief weighing down on her; she knew Nigrovum was adding to her pain. She refused to be destroyed by it as Akemi had been; Camilla would pull herself out of all that swamp of negativity, as difficult and arduous as it would be for her. As she lay on the floor, she whispered to herself these words: "It wasn't my fault. Akemi chose to kill herself: I didn't make her. She didn't have to fall in love with me. I didn't make her. It wasn't my fault. I mustn't be negative. I must be cheerful. I didn't make her kill herself; she chose to. This isn't my fault."

Slowly but surely, Camilla felt the weight of despair lift away, as though huge rocks had been taken off her back one by one. As she repeated the healing mantra, "It wasn't my fault," she felt the shaking gradually abate, too, like the ending of an earthquake. Also, she could hear her voice slowly going back to normal.

The other girls, concerned, watched her slowly raise her head and back, her breathing gradually getting slower and slower. Finally, she got up, looking straight towards the way out of the washroom, with an artificially serene expression.

"Are you OK now?" one of the girls asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Camilla said mechanically, though otherwise in her perfectly normal voice again. As she walked toward the door, she tried to use Nigrovum to part the crowd of people looking in the washroom, but she'd used up all its power for the moment. Though emotionally and physically exhausted, she just kept walking, as though something else was supplying her energy from outside her body. She went into the hall, found a table at the cafeteria, and sat there with her head on the table, as if to sleep.

****************

In her bedroom that night, Camilla turned on her lap-top and chatted online with Dr. Singh.

"I once made love with a girl in Vancouver named Akemi," Camilla typed. "I passed Nigrovum on to her, and she fell in love with me. She came to York to study as I did, and stalked me for a while before begging me to love her as she did me. When I told her I was in love with someone else, she ran away all broken-hearted. Today, she committed suicide; she carved my name on her chest!"

"My God," Singh typed in his reply. "As traumatizing as this experience obviously was for you, you mustn't grieve, Camilla. Nigrovum no doubt intensified her despair and heartache. If you have gloomy spirits, you'll end up just like her. And don't worry about her death, for as it says in the Bhagavad Gita, atman--the soul--is immortal, and Akemi will live forever in spirit."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Camilla typed. "What if Akemi rapes me in my sleep, or tries to get revenge by killing me? She'll be an incubus now, right?"

"Well, the female version is called a succubus, actually. If her spirit visits you in your dreams, perhaps you can try to say soothing words to appease her wounded soul. Be gentle with her; care for her; be loving."

After exchanging a few more words, they ended their chat. She turned off her lap-top and got ready for bed.

Maybe I can appease her by making love to her in my dreams, she thought. She then set the psychic barriers, meditated, focusing on positive feelings, and went to sleep.

****************

On Wednesday night, Camilla was in much better spirits; her positive meditations of the night before had been most helpful, and the Nigrovum in her blood was shining a pleasant glow all over her body, helping her emotional high.

She'd learned of a wine and cheese party being held on the university campus that night, and she decided to go. Though she was hoping to find a professor to tempt for a later encounter, she had a date for the night: a young black man named Sam, who'd seen her strip at Club Ritz the previous week and begged her to let him take her out.

She was wearing her revealing dark blue evening gown, the one that showed off her cleavage from the front and the behind; when she and Sam went into the room where the party was being held, her eyes raced all around the area, searching for a prof she could turn on in her sexy dress. She quickly found the perfect man--Dr. Abruzzi. Standing by a bar in a good-looking black suit, he was handsome as always.

"Go mingle, Sam," she told her date. "I'll get back to you later." Her Nigrovum gently pushed him to the other side of the room, where a number of pretty young women were that he could be distracted by.

She then walked up to the bar. When Abruzzi saw her approaching, he just stared at her in aroused awe. He was on one side of the bar, she on the other.

"Hi sir," she, grinning, said in the voice of her slutty 'Candy' persona. "You're my teacher in the British novel course. I sit at the front of the classroom. Remember me?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, trying unsuccessfully to avoid looking at her large breasts, the skin of about 80% of which was showing. "W-what's your name?"

"Camilla," she said, shaking his hand.

"That's a lovely name."

"Thanks. I like yours, too: Dr. Abruzzi--so Italian, so sexy." She leaned forward on the bar counter to draw more attention to her hanging cleavage. She used Nigrovum to make her left shoulder strap slip off, exposing almost her entire left breast; her nipple was just barely spared exposure. "Oops!" 'Candy' said with a high-pitched yelp and giggle, pulling the shoulder strap back up; then she let the other shoulder strap slip off, exposing almost all of her right breast in the same way--that time, Abruzzi could see a millimetre or two of areola. Again, she giggled in feigned embarrassment and put the shoulder strap back up.

He simply couldn't stop staring at her tits. Taking the hint that she liked him, the divorced man said, "You know, you're a very beautiful girl."

Giggling her thanks, she said, "And you're a very handsome man. Let's go sit somewhere and talk." She took him by the hand and led him to a corner of the room, where there were couches with no one else there. He sat down, and she stood before him with her back to him. She pulled up her dress at the front so the back would go down, and more butt cleavage would show for him. Half of her ass was now exposed to him, just inches from his nose.

"Won't your boyfriend mind if he sees you talking with me?" Abruzzi asked.

Deliberately dropping her purse, she bent over with her ass in his face. Some things fell out of her purse. "Oops," she said, spreading her legs out wide and starting to put her things back in her purse. Since so much butt cleavage was showing, her now-exposed anus was inches from his fascinated face. His nose was delighted to note the total absence of faecal odour. He tried to help her pick up her things. He noticed a tube of anal lube; he handed it to her with a smirk. "Oh, no sir--you don't have to help. I've got it. And that's not my boyfriend over there--I don't have one. Sam's just my date for tonight. I'm fucking him tonight because he wouldn't stop begging me, and besides, I've never had black cock before, so I'm curious."

"Fascinating," he said, practically counting the pretty wrinkles on her beige asshole.

She finished putting everything away, but stayed bent over so he could enjoy the view. Looking back at him and amused at how his hypnotized eyes studied her asshole, she continued: "Now I'll know if it's true, what they say about black guys."

"I'm jealous," he said, sniffing away.

"Oh, you'll get your turn, I promise," 'Candy' said, reaching back and tickling his chin. "Hope you don't mind me fucking other guys. I know you don't mind words like that, 'cause I heard you use them yesterday in class." She giggled lewdly.

"Yeah, Lady Chatterley's Lover," he said, then suddenly got worried that people could have been watching their publicly indecent behaviour. Camilla, however, had used Nigrovum to make everyone, including Sam, ignore her and her lecherous professor.

Just then, a recording of Billie Holliday singing 'Cheek to Cheek' began playing. "Oh, I love this song," Camilla said. "Sir, let's dance." Taking his hands while still bent over and pulling him forward, she made his nose brush against her anus; then she straightened up, closing her soft, round buttocks around his face. Cheek to cheek, she lewdly thought to herself. He got up, hoping the bulge in his pants wouldn't be seen, and she led him to the dancing area. "Put your hands on my bum, please: I don't mind you seeing my bleavage, but I don't want everyone else here to."

"What's 'bleavage'?" he asked, putting his hands over her anal cleft as they began dancing.

"You're touching it, sir; my butt cleavage," she said, always smiling as she looked up at him, and her permissive eyes telling him she had no objections to his fingers slowly opening her buttocks and sliding them in between to touch her asshole. He looked down at her, taking furtive glances at her breasts. Her right shoulder strap then conveniently slipped off. "Oops!" she said with a giggle as she pulled it back up. He almost got to see nipple, but not quite.

They finished dancing, and went back to the bar area, standing in the same places as before. "I hope you enjoyed the dance as much as I did," he said.

"Oh, I did, sir. Thanks." She then leaned forward on the bar to show off more tit for him, and made her left shoulder strap fall off. "Oops!" she said with another 'embarrassed' giggle, and replaced the strap on her shoulder. "I'm having such bad luck with this dress."

"It isn't bad luck where I'm standing."

"Sir!" she said in a mock-scandalized tone. "You're bad!" Then her right shoulder strap slipped off again. "Whoops!" she said with a high-pitched giggle, and pulled it back up again. "If this bad luck keeps up, my whole dress is gonna fall off, and everyone's gonna see me naked."

"And how's that a bad thing?"

"Sir! Gentlemen aren't supposed to want things like that to happen to girls. You're such a bad boy!" She then giggled lasciviously. Then her left shoulder strap slipped off. "Oops!" she said, replacing it.

His penis was practically perpendicular with his body the whole night.

When it was time to go, she said, "Well, I guess I've gotta go get my date."

"OK," he said.

"Yep, time to know what a black cock will feel like in my happy pussy." She walked over to get Sam. Abruzzi just sat at the bar, frowning.

His frown changed back to a smile when she came back, seeing him sitting on the couch again. Sam was behind her and rendered unaware of what she was doing, thanks to Nigrovum. In front of her prof, she bent over and brought her cleavage right up to his face.

"Good night, sir," she purred, wrapping her breasts around his face and sliding her left breast against his right cheek as she straightened up to leave with Sam. Abruzzi felt her breast's skin, right up to the areola, brushing against his face. She and Sam left, leaving her teacher with the pointiest of erections in his pants.

*****************

On Thursday morning at about 11:00, Camilla went to Dr. Abruzzi's office, for now it was his office hours. She went in, closed the door and locked it. They were alone. He was sitting at his desk.

"Hi sir," she said, still doing her slutty 'Candy' persona.

"Hi," he said, with a lustful smile.

She went to his chair and put her knee on it, pushing it against his already-erect penis. "You sure had a lot of fun last night, didn't you?" she asked.

"Not as much fun as you had with Sam."

"Oh, it wasn't that much fun. He wasn't as well-hung as I'd hoped. I'll never believe in stereotypes about black people again. Still, his dick felt good in my ass."

"You let him fuck your ass?"

"Oh, yeah," Camilla said in all insouciance. "I let guys fuck my ass all the time. I like it." She smiled lewdly.

"Really? It doesn't hurt?"

"Not if you lube it, and when your cock is in my asshole, it rubs against the wall by my cunt, and I tingle with pleasure. Remember my tube of anal lube? You gave it to me last night when my things fell out of my purse. That's what I use when the men want anal sex."

"I see."

"Anyway, I know you had fun last night, too."

"How do you know?"

"You were staring at my tits."

"Oh, yeah," he said, chuckling in embarrassment.

"That's why I rubbed my tits against your face. I knew you'd like it." Unbuttoning her shirt, she then asked, "Want me to do it again?"

"Absolutely," he groaned.

With her shirt unbuttoned down to the last two buttons by her belly, she leaned forward and squeezed her bra-less breasts against his face. Then she moved her torso quickly left to right, again and again, slapping her tits against his happy cheeks. "You should come see me naked tonight at Club Ritz, sir."

"You're a stripper?"

"Yeah, a lap-dancer. Twenty dollars a song, and I'll grind on your cock while you feel me up. You can touch everything, too. No part of my body is off bounds to your hands."

"I'm not surprised to hear that. I'll bet you're good at lap-dancing, too."

"Just for that nice compliment, I'll give you a free demonstration." Looking down lewdly into his eyes, she unzipped her jeans slowly, unbuttoned them, and pulled them down, revealing her panties.

"Purple undies," he sighed. "How pretty."

"Thanks," she said, then took off her white running shoes, socks, and jeans. She sat on his pointy lap and rubbed away. He gyrated his hips and moaned his thanks. After five minutes of grinding, she got up and looked around at the books on the shelves of his office, not bothering to put her jeans back on.

He got up and stood beside her, patting her on the behind. "Do my books interest you, Camilla?"




Camilla Ch. 072



"Oh, yeah. You're so smart, sir." He pulled on the elastic of her panties, looked down at her crack, let go, and the elastic snapped against her ass. "Sir, you're bad!" She grinned and lewdly giggled.

"You like it, you naughty girl," he said. "So, you're gonna let me see you naked tonight?"

"If you come over and want me to, I have to; it's my job." She took his hand and put it on her crotch, moving it back and forth to massage the vulva underneath her panties.

"Oh, I'll want you to strip for me," he panted as he continued feeling her between the legs.

Breathing heavily but quietly, she pretended nothing indecent was happening between them, always allowing him to touch, and said, "Of course, you've already seen and touched some of my nakedness."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You saw my asshole, remember?" She giggled.

"Oh, yeah," he sighed, ogling her purple panties as he continued feeling them where her cunt was. Finally, he stopped touching, however reluctantly. "Well, as much...as I'd love...to have you stay, sweetie, I have...some work...to do. I'll see you tonight at Club Ritz."

"You'll see every millimetre of me, and you'll get a real good look, too. Bye," she said, then turned around, grabbed her bag, and went to the door.

"Uh, Camilla?"

"Yes, sir?" she asked, opening the door ajar.

"Don't you wanna put your pants on first?"

Giggling, she said, "Sir, you're so bad. You were gonna let me go out there in my underwear." She bent over with the ass of her purple lace panties pointed at his face, then put her socks back on before reaching for her jeans.

I don't think you'd mind everyone seeing you in your underwear, you exhibitionist slut, he thought.

*****************

That night at Club Ritz, Dr. Abruzzi arrived and saw Camilla in a one-piece, tight-fitting, brown get-up. It emphasized her cleavage, though with a black brassiere, and her camel-toe. She had been talking with Candice at a table.

"Camilla?" he said, standing behind her.

She turned around. "Sir! Hi!" she said, hugging him and rubbing her belly against the erection in his pants. She took his hand and put it on her crotch. "Do you like my camel-toe?"

"Do I ever," he panted, rubbing his hand against it.

"I'm next to go onstage. Come sit at perverts' row so you see my body up close."

"OK," he said, letting her take him by the hand and lead him to the tip rail. He sat there, and she went onstage.

"And now," the DJ announced. "Let's give a big hand for this sexy lady: here's Camilla." Everyone cheered.

Her first song was 'Dirty Love,' by Frank Zappa. She grinned lewdly as she danced around the stage, always eyeing him when she mouthed the words, 'Give me your dirty love.' By the time of the guitar solo, she stripped out of the brown get-up to reveal her black bra and panties. When the second song, Aerosmith's 'Rag Doll', began, she pouted sexily and danced in her underwear and black high heels. A minute and a half into the song, she unclipped her bra and teased him by opening it several times without showing him her nipples before finally taking it off with a dramatic wiggle of her tits. She was fond of mouthing the words, 'Hot tramp, daddy's little cutie.' A minute or so later, her panties came off, revealing her now black pubic hair, which had grown back quickly, thanks to Nigrovum. As the song faded out with the clarinet solo, she removed her high heels.

She crawled around naked on the stage for her third song, 'Bad Girl', by Madonna. As usual, she had her legs spread wide open so everyone--especially her prof--could see her pussy and asshole. As she displayed her two holes for him, she looked back at him with agape eyes and pursed lips, eager to know if he liked what he saw. Then at one point, she slowly crawled up to him, smiling lasciviously. When she was right up close to him, she brought her head down to his lap and gently nibbled on the bulge in his pants. He had red lipstick stains there, but he didn't mind.

She got on her back and spread her legs for him. Putting her fingers on her labia, she stretched her pussy wide open for his equally agape eyes. Her cunt was stretched open in the shape of a black egg--how appropriate, considering what she had swimming inside her juices. Then she brought her wide-open legs up so he could see her asshole again. She looked back at him with her mouth open, licking her lips; it was clear to him that he had three holes to choose from. The song ended, and she, staying naked, got offstage and took him into a private room.

As she was grinding her ass against his erection, he fondled her breasts, tickling the nipples. Then his right hand wandered down to touch her pussy while his right hand continued gently squeezing her left tit. She looked back into his eyes, her own black eyes telling him how much she liked his cock. Then she got up and turned around, facing him. She sat on his lap and massaged his erection with her left hand while her right hand caressed the back of his head. He put his hands on her ass, gently squeezing her buttocks; then his fingers slid down into the crack, and he fingered her asshole. She looked at him with permissive eyes the whole time.

At one point, she leaned back and spread her legs wide open, flashing her pussy for him. Fingering her clitoris with her left index finger, she gently pulled on her her slightly swollen right labium with her right fingers; she said of her pussy lips, "Soft."

Pointing down at his cock, he said, "Hard."

She giggled, then got up, turned around, and bent over. With her legs spread out, she showed her asshole and pussy in a glorious display. She looked back at him with wide-open eyes, anxious to see how well her holes were pleasing him. They were, of course.

At the end of the night, he paid her $300, then asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"Oh, I promised my friend Candice that I'd sleep with her tonight," she said nervously.

"I see," he said with obvious disappointment in his eyes.

"Sorry, sir. I meant to give myself to you tonight, but Candice has been really lonely lately. She and I are lovers, sometimes. She was crying tonight, and I just couldn't leave her alone. I've broken a few too many hearts lately." To cheer him up, she wrapped her breasts around his face and rubbed them there, as she had done at the wine and cheese party, but this time tickling his face with her nipples. She also turned around, opened her buttocks to expose her asshole, and he put his face inside the crack: she then closed her butt-cheeks against either side of his face and tightly rubbed them against his face, while he kissed and licked her anus. Though he was turned on by this, he knew he'd still be going home alone.

"OK, you go fuck her then; no problem." He was clearly not only let down, but also annoyed at having spent so much money, with his hopes up, now only to have them come crashing down.

"You'll be next, though: I promise," she said as she saw him walk out of the private room. Putting the money into her purse, she was feeling really guilty about how she'd disappointed him. She'd really have to make it up to him on Friday.

As he walked out of Club Ritz, he thought, She's no slut; she's just a goddam gold-digging little bitch.

He'd soon be proven wrong about that.

*******************

On Friday afternoon, Camilla saw Dr. Abruzzi walking on the York campus. She ran up to him.

"Hi sir," she said.

"Hi," he said coolly. "Was last night's lesbian lay disappointing, too?"

"No, I enjoy sixty-nining her. Tonight's lay will be even better, though."

"Oh? Who's he?"

"You," she said.

"Oh, really?" he said, full of suspicion. "All I have to do is go over to Club Ritz and give you more money for lap-dances, eh?"

"No, sir, you've got it all wrong. I had to be with Candice last night; it was a last minute emergency. I'm really sorry I got your hopes up and didn't satisfy you."

"I see."

"Really, sir. I mean it this time; you get to fuck me tonight. Nothing's stopping that." He continued walking to class, clearly not believing her. She wouldn't give up, though. She kept following him. "Nothing's stopping me having sex with you tonight. Not even you." She began using Nigrovum on him; she visualized that ice-cold heart of his warming up, then going on fire with lust for her. He stopped walking and turned around to face her.

Again, she visualized a big blue force field, as she had with Alex and Bob (for the Adam and Eve POV video), immobilizing everyone nearby on the campus and forcing them to watch her and Dr. Abruzzi. All those outside the blue couldn't come in, and were baffled by what was happening.

In full control of Abruzzi's mind, Camilla had him reach over, unzip and unbutton her jeans, and pull them down to her knees, exposing her pretty pink panties.

Pretending she had nothing to do with what he'd just done, she feigned surprise and said, "Sir, you're so bad. Pulling down my pants like that, so everyone can see me in my underwear."

"W-what made me do that?" he asked, as astonished as he was aroused. He vaguely remembered a story about something like this happening on the campus a week or so before, but that girl was blonde, apparently. Forgetting that Camilla used to be blonde, he was too horny to make the connection.

"Anyway, now that my panties are showing, do you like 'em?" she asked, turning around so he could see the ass of her panties as well as the front. Facing him again, she took his hand and put it on her crotch to feel her between the legs.

"Y-yeah, very sexy." Fighting to regain control, he then said, "A-anyway, I have a class to teach now. I'll see you tonight at Club Ritz."

Convinced that he would be there that night, she released him, and he walked away.

"OK, see you tonight," she said, still with her pants down. He looked back for one last peek at her underwear before going into the building where he'd teach his next class. She then pulled up her jeans and zipped them up. She jogged away to the nearest building, and when she was inside, she made the blue force field disappear. Everyone at the scene was now released. Just as perplexed about what had happened--and just as forgetful of who Camilla and the prof were--as the coerced onlookers had been last time, everyone rushed to class.

"What the hell just happened?" one woman said.

"That happened a week or so before," another woman said as they rushed to their next class. Again, I forget what they looked like, she thought; but didn't the slut last time have blonde hair?

*********************

Dr. Abruzzi went to Club Ritz around 1 AM, knowing the strip joint would close in half an hour. He may have been hot for Camilla, but he wasn't stupid enough to waste a lot of money on lap-dances only to be told she had another lover at the last minute. This time, he paid for only two lap-dances.

During the first lap-dance, naked Camilla sat on his lap, facing him and feeling his erection. He had his hands on her ass, and was fingering her anus.

"Sir," she said in feigned shock at his roving hands. "I poop through that hole!" She then giggled.

"So?" he said. "You told me before that you take cock in there, too. You flash your asshole enough to want a good butt-fuck."

Smirking, she blushed and turned her head away in pretend embarrassment.

After the lap-dances, she, always naked, took him back into the change room. There she showed him all her clothes.

"So, what would you like me to wear back to your home, sir?" she asked.

He had one hand on her left breast and the other fondling her buttocks. "I don't know," he said. "What do you recommend?"

"Well," she said, looking through her clothes hanging on the clothes hangers while his one hand moved from her ass to her pussy. "How about this one? When I wear it, you can see the silhouette of my naked body." She pointed out her skin-tight black outfit, the one she'd worn to Dr. Singh's office when he'd 'examined' her for STDs.

"Yeah," he said, moving his other hand from her left tit to the right one. "That could be very sexy on you. Put it on." After allowing him to feel her up for a few more minutes, she put the outfit on with some black high heels, and they left Club Ritz. It was about 1:30 AM.

They took a taxi to his house; when they reached a nearby park, she said, "Are we near your house now?"

"Yes," he said. "Just a few blocks away."

"Good," she said. "Let's get out and walk the rest of the way."

"OK," he said. They stopped, he paid the cabbie, and they got out. After the cab was gone, the two lovers were all alone, walking on the sidewalk beside the park.

She wanted to be naughty again, so she used Nigrovum on him. He suddenly felt this uncontrollable urge to unzip her outfit; he reached up, put his hand on the zipper at the back, and pulled down. Lewdly smirking as the zipper traveled down her back towards her buttocks, she bent over slightly and pushed her ass out in a serpentine curve when the zipper was all the way down. He put his hands on the material at her shoulders and pulled it down gently, revealing her tits, then her ass and pubic hair: he was completely astonished at his boldness, feeling as though some alien intelligence was making him do it; of course, that's exactly what was happening. He wasn't at all surprised, however, that she completely allowed him to strip her naked in a public place. He pulled the material down her legs to her feet; he looked up at the naked girl, who just ran her hands through her black hair, without a care in the world if anybody was seeing her then. He removed her high heels and pulled her feet out of the material. She put the material in her purse, he carried her shoes for her, and they continued walking toward his house.

She looked up all around her with a lewd smirk, wondering if anyone was watching and never making the slightest attempt to cover herself. With Nigrovum, she scanned the area to find out if anyone actually was watching: she learned that one man, up in his house with a cell-phone camera, was taking video of the extraordinary sight. She was happy to let him.

Finally, they went into his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. She got on the bed on all fours, with her legs spread wide open so her pussy and asshole were in plain view. She looked back at him, salaciously licking her lips as she proudly displayed her holes. He impatiently got naked and got on the bed behind her. He slowly slid his hard cock inside her wet pussy.

"Oh!" she squealed as it went in deeper and deeper. His cock was about seven inches in length, and as thick as Mr. Grisham's.

He pushed in all the way, and his knob jabbed at her A-spot. After three more jabs, she gushed her first orgasm. "What?" he panted. "Holy shit!"

"Sorry, sir," she sighed as his cock kept poking her pussy. "I'm a gusher. Oh!"

"That's OK," he panted. "It's...just interesting. Unh!"

"Oh, my God!" she screamed as he started thrusting more aggressively. "Fuck me, fuck me! Ah!"

He reached forward and grabbed her tits as he continued giving her his doggy-style. What a tight, wet pussy!

She screamed high-pitched, staccato squeals, orgasming a second time. "Oh!"

He straightened up and started fingering her asshole, then gently pushed his index finger in an inch. He kept fucking her pussy as he did this, slowly pushing his finger in her butt another inch.

"Want to..fuck my..ass, sir?" she asked in a shaky voice as his cock continued pleasurably stabbing her. Ah!" She came a third time.

"Yeah," he moaned, then pulled his cock out of her cunt. "You got...your anal lube?"

"Use my come, sir," she sighed.

"There's enough of it, that's for sure." He scooped it up from what had splashed on the bed, and smeared her asshole and rectal walls with it. Then he gently pushed his knob against her wide-open, welcoming anal lips. It went in an inch. "Unh! That feels...good!"

"Yeah," she groaned, looking back at him. "Oh! Deeper!"

He pushed in half-way, and loved the sensation. This was his first time to have anal sex with a girl...and what a girl to have it with! A sexy little black-haired tart who'd teased him for so long! Now he was glad she'd made him wait for the sex. Postponing his gratification only made the final fulfillment all the more thrilling! She wasn't a gold-digger, and she wasn't merely a slut. She was a virtuoso cock-teaser!

He pushed his cock all the way in. Her pussy may have been tight, but her asshole was tightness heaven! He slid his cock half-way out and all the way in...out, in, out, in. This was the peace that came of fucking! Final satisfaction after having been teased for so long.

She fingered her clitoris as his cock kept on pounding away in her ass. She squealed up in a high pitch from below, and he grunted in a low pitch from above. Soon she had an anal orgasm.

"I'm gonna come," he groaned.

"Wanna come...on my butt-cheeks?" she asked in squeals.

"OK," he said, then pulled his cock out of her ass. She held his cock and jacked him off briefly; he blew his load all over her ass--along her crack, on each buttock, and a bit on her lower back. Then they lay on the bed and slowly caught their breath.

"Is this...the pause...of peace...of our fucking, sir?" she asked in sighs.

"Yes," he panted. "But it's...no chastity." They soon went to sleep.

During her dream, it became evident to Camilla that she'd forgotten to put up the psychic barriers; for she saw Akemi in a private room with her in Club Ritz.

"Hi, Akemi," Camilla, sitting on a couch, said. "Sorry for breaking your heart. I didn't mean for you to commit suicide. Want to make love with me?"

"Yeah," the Japanese-Canadian succubus said, approaching Camilla.

Camilla spread her legs and opened up her pussy lips for Akemi. Pointing to her labia, Camilla said, "Soft."

Looking around her and referring to how things are in the afterlife, Akemi said, "Hard."



Camilla Ch. 073



On Saturday night after coming home from Club Ritz, Camilla was in her bedroom, lying on her bed, thinking about Akemi's succubus visiting her in her dream the night before. To appease Akemi's spirit and ease her suffering, Camilla not only made love with her in the dream, receiving her cunnilingus and making yet another mess on her bedsheets, but also held the recent suicide in her arms, rocking her back and forth as Agape used to do when little six-year-old Camilla ran home from school crying.

Camilla still remembered the dream vividly. In the dining room of the mansion of the Satanists where she'd made love with Li-ping, Camilla caught her breath after coming from the licks of Akemi the succubus. The faint smell of smoke hovered lightly in the air, as the mansion was on fire. Camilla said, "I'll always welcome you in my dreams, Akemi. I won't reject you here. I'm so sorry I hurt you when you were alive. In my dreams, we'll love each other as much as you want. Please don't be sad anymore, sweetie."

"I still love you, Camilla," Akemi said repeatedly as they held each other.

Confident that Akemi's ghost was appeased as well as could be expected, Camilla now turned the attention of her meditations to her father, Agape. She'd sat in on his lecture on Thursday a second time; again, her photographic memory allowed her to recall his words as though she was hearing them right then on Saturday night.

He had been discussing another scene from Hamlet, the one with the suicide soliloquy ('To be or not to be'). Though her by-now-predictable awe and admiration of Agape's erudition was in great part due, obviously, to her love's biased estimation of his virtues, he also said things about Hamlet's speech that resonated powerfully with Camilla, in terms of her recent troubles.

"'To die, to sleep; /Perchance to dream,'" Agape quoted. "'Ay, there's the rub; /For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, /When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, /Must give us pause. There's the respect /That makes calamity of so long life;...' Hamlet is comparing death to sleep, of course. If in sleep, we rest from our troubles, then death means forever resting from our troubles. Hence, the desire to kill oneself. When we sleep, however, we dream, and if death is endless sleeping, is dreaming the afterlife? Will they be the pleasant dreams of heaven, or the nightmares of hell? As the Church teaches us, suicide is a sin. He who commits suicide is declaring his total lack of faith in God; this sends him straight to hell. Therefore, in killing oneself, do one's troubles end, or do they only just begin, never to end? This realization turns Hamlet's despair over itself: he has little hope in life, but even less hope in death as a cure for his pain. He's gone full circle. He despairs of his despair, and therefore chooses to go on living, as hateful as his life may be to him."

These were, in her opinion, the most profound words she'd ever heard in her whole life; once again, her father's sexy insightfulness was driving her wild. His words contained, however, perhaps some of the most painful truths she'd ever heard. Small wonder Akemi felt the afterlife as a 'hard' experience, and Camilla as an empath shared that pain, coincidentally, in a dream. Camilla had always feared death, but now she had an especial dread of it. Love may have been a dangerous emotion, but despair was far more perilous, particularly for those with microscopic ovoid black aliens swimming around in their bodily fluids, aliens that mysteriously strengthened every emotion one felt. Bad feelings, therefore, were to be shunned like lepers; and glee had to be tightly embraced and clung to. From then on, Camilla was resolved to live, love, and laugh as much as she could; for however risky love may have been--especially the incestuous kind--compared to despair, love was as safe as a child in his mother's arms.

"Daddy, you're so deep; and I want you deep inside me," she said to herself, imagining that his interpretation of Hamlet's words was a warning shielding her from danger. In a way, you saved my life by making me pull myself out of my despair, as Dr. Davis saved my life by pushing me to cure myself of my speedball overdose, she thought; now I wanna make love to you, Daddy, as I did with Dr. Davis.

She went downstairs and into the living room, where her father, at his chair by the coffee table, was drinking as usual. She used Nigrovum to make her eyes temporarily blue, then got out her bag of marijuana and papers from the drawer of the coffee table.

"Wait, Camilla," Agape slurred. "Maybe we shouldn't get stoned tonight. These parties seem to be g-getting out of hand."

"How?" she asked, sprinkling the marijuana on a paper. "You're just getting really stoned and having wild dreams about Carrie, that's all."

"Yeah, but those dreams, if that's what they were, seem to be m-more than that. And it doesn't seem to be C-Carrie that I'm with."

"Oh, come on, Daddy. Candice doesn't come over anymore. It's just you and I now. You trust me, don't you?" She rolled the joint.

"Yeah, of course I trust you," he said, looking away.

"Then there's no problem," she said, and sucked on the joint to seal it. She looked sadly in his still suspicious eyes. "C'mon, Daddy: these months have been the first in years that I've spent any time with you. Let's have some fun." She handed him the joint.

"How can I say no to those baby blue eyes?" he said, taking the joint and reaching for a lighter.

"Thanks, Daddy," she said. "Your glass is empty; I'll refill it for you while you puff away." She took it into the kitchen and put some more ice and Jim Beam in it. As usual, she mixed a half pill of ecstasy in it, then got a can of Heineken for herself out of the fridge, and brought the drinks back into the living room. When she gave him his bourbon, he gave her the joint, having puffed on it several times.

A half an hour went by, and he was starting to feel the ecstasy. She hadn't taken any this time, because she no longer needed to have so extreme a high to lessen her inhibitions, now that she'd accepted the reality of her incestuous love; also, being less wasted helped her to be in better control of the situation. To do a better job of convincing him that the lovemaking was all just a dream, she used Nigrovum to make him temporarily drowsy, even though he was now peaking on the E.

He briefly closed his eyes, then opened them. He seemed no longer to be in their house, but in the mansion on Grouse Mountain, the setting of most of Camilla's dreams with the ghosts; only in this Nigrovum-enhanced setting, the mansion wasn't on fire. There was a beautiful inner decor all around Agape.

He looked up and no longer saw Camilla, but Carrie, naked, with Camilla's body.

"Carrie?" he asked. "W-where am I?"

"Heaven," Camilla said in Carrie's voice. "The palace of pleasant dreams."

"I see. Where's Camilla?"

"She's upstairs."

"In a higher heaven?"

"Oh, yeah. Let's make love, Aga." Camilla had laid those dirty towels on the floor again, and Agape got on them on his back. She pulled down his pants and underwear, got on top of him in the cowgirl position, and fondled his penis, which became semi-erect. Then she bent forward and reached down to his face, kissing him hard on the mouth. He opened his mouth, and she slid her tongue inside.

As they French-kissed, their tongues rolling over each other, he noticed the smell of beer and marijuana on 'Carrie's' breath. He pulled his tongue out of her mouth.

"What's wrong, Da-uh, Agape?" she asked.

"Carrie?" he said in surprise. "You've never smoked even a cigarette, let alone dope. Why do I smell it on you?"

"W-well," Camilla stammered. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

"I guess."

"C'mon, Aga, let's make love." She lay down on his chest and wrapped her arms around him tightly, nuzzling on his neck. They started kissing passionately, frenziedly, her moaning and sighing while her pussy got wetter and wetter. She nibbled on his ear while his head fidgeted from the intense high of the ecstasy. Between nibbles and sucking on his earlobe, and licking and blowing inside his ear, she said, "'...that thou didst know...how many fathom deep...I am...in love! But it...cannot be sounded...'"

He turned his head to look at her. "You just quoted As You Like It," he said. "I n-never knew you knew the play. Carrie, you're m-my Rosalind in disguise, my Ganymede." He belched.

"Yes," Camilla said. "I just studied that play this week."

"You studied Shakespeare?" he asked. "You teach psychology. Since when do you have time to study literature?"

"Oh, uh, I mean I, uh, watched a movie of it on TV a few nights ago."

"It w-was on TV? When? You should have told me. We could've seen it together."

"Never mind. Let's fuck," she said, jerking him off more vigorously now. She then used Nigrovum to get him fully erect, then got up and aimed his cock under her slowly descending pussy. She felt a shudder of delight when the tip touched her vaginal opening. Feeding his cock in, inch by delicious inch, she sighed and squealed in a crescendo of rising pitches.

Again, Agape, though enjoying her slippery pussy as it hungrily embraced his phallus, was as perplexed as he was aroused by how different her cunt felt. While he loved Carrie enough to be accepting of the imperfections of her aging body, the tight delight of this pussy was too new a sensation for him not to notice, and feel suspicions about. Was this young-looking, black-haired girl on top of him Candice? Was Camilla disobeying his wish not to have her friend come over? Was his stoned inebriation making him think Candice was Carrie, or was something else--something alien--confusing him?

Camilla had his cock three-quarters of the way in now, and she was nearing her first orgasm. Her squeals had changed to screams when he got all the way in, and the knob of his cock aggressively kissed her A-spot, giving her her first orgasm. She splashed her come all over his lap. She continued going up and down on his cock, screaming high-pitched, staccato squeals with each new poke of his cock against her elated A-spot. The thickness of his manhood was giving her grinning G-spot a most thorough massage, too. She came a second time, screaming her loudest yet.

Again, as Agape almost mechanically fucked his daughter, he--in spite of his wasted stupor--couldn't help noticing how different his lover was from not only Carrie, but also Candice. Candice was a wilder lover than his girlfriend, to be sure, but even she didn't scream that loudly. These squeals he heard were the cries of the chthonian; his lover seemed to be a maniacal Maenad about to rend him limb from limb. This had to be a dream: in any case, it was his best lay yet!

After drenching his lap with a third orgasm, Camilla slowly pulled up, feeling his cock slide out of her pussy and tingling with pleasure at the feeling of its thickness tickling her gleeful vaginal walls. Then she moved down, and went down on him, tickling the tip of his cock with her vibrating tongue. She kissed it at the dick-hole, licked the underside of his knob, and wrapped her wet lips around it, sliding her mouth half-way down his shaft and pulling up to the knob again. Oh, you beautiful giver of life, of my beauty, and of my mind, let me worship you--magical, divine lingam! she thought.

He moaned and fidgeted as she continued sucking him off, amazed at the skill of his cock-sucker. This can't be Carrie, he thought; I don't think it's Candice, either. She sucks better than Carrie, but this is a bravura blow-job! 

Her head was going up and down faster and faster on her father's cock, and she moaned and played with his balls. I can please you, Daddy, she thought; but only in secret. Why does society have to forbid incest? Why can't I tell you how much I love you? Why can't my love be sounded?

Finally, he was nearing orgasm, and she could psychically sense it. She pulled his cock out of her mouth and jerked him off, keeping his cock pointed at her face. She looked at his face, his eyes squinting with pleasure from her expert hands. She smiled to see how well she was pleasing him. He shot his first spewing between her eyes; she screamed and giggled in surprise. His second spray hit her in the left eye; his third, in the right eye. His fourth hit her to the left of her left eye, and his last hit her to the right of her right eye. Her facial was a mask that she imagined concealed her true identity. She made her face change back to that of her own. Though it was too risky all at once to disclose the identity of his real living room lover, she'd hoped to do so in safely infinitesimal stages, starting with letting him see her real naked body with Carrie's head, then with Carrie's face but Camilla's black hair, now with Camilla's face, masked in his come.

He looked down at his young-looking, black-haired, black-eyed, grinning lover, with his come dripping down her cheeks. For a few seconds, he thought she had Camilla's nose. No, he thought, closing his eyes; Camilla couldn't do such a sick thing to me. This is a dream for sure.

***************

On Sunday morning, Camilla and Agape went to church. Father Josiah's sermon was about the dangers of tampering with the spirit world. He was troubled to see her sitting at the front pew and paying little heed to his words, since he'd meant this homily especially as a message to her and her own tampering with devils, as he saw them. After having slept with her several times, he now felt a connection with these 'evil spirits' himself, and tried to resist them as best he could.

When Mass had ended, she and Agape went up to the priest to say good-bye to him. After doing so, Agape continued walking out the door, while Camilla stayed to chat with Josiah.

"You didn't seem to be paying too much attention to my sermon today, Camilla," Josiah said.

"Well, I fear despair much more than spirits," she said.

"Despair is perhaps the worst sin of all, but that doesn't mean what you've been doing with these devils isn't something to worry about."

"They aren't devils; they're the sons of God."

"There is only one Son of God, Camilla."

"Father," she said, sneering, "If all the fears of the world were put on a ladder from smallest to biggest, tampering with the spirit world is just one rung above incest. Both rungs are a dozen or so below the fear of despair, which is at the top, as I see it. The lower rungs are so small in terror, compared to despair, that I'm not worrying about them."

"You should worry about them, too," the priest said, "for they can lead to despair."

Knowing she was getting away with fucking her dad, and keeping the ghosts under control, she let Josiah's warning blow by, for only depression, stress, and despair, at the top of that ladder, were her concern now. Changing the subject, she asked, "Wanna get together tonight at the hotel?" She bit her lower lip and looked up and down at him.

"No," he said gently but firmly.

"I hear a yes underneath that no," she said, using Nigrovum to push that visualized rose toward his heart. In a big surprise to her, she then felt him use Nigrovum to push the rose back at her! "Father, I thought you were against tampering with devils."

"I thought they weren't devils, Camilla," he retorted, throwing her accusation of hypocrisy back at her.

She went home with Agape, sitting in his car with a frown of disappointment. He'll want me back, she thought. If the Nigrovum in his blood is tempting him to use its power, it will tempt him back to me, too.

When she got home, she went up to her bedroom and called Bob on her cell-phone. He didn't answer, so she left a message about wanting to do another POV video with him, this time with Bob dressing as a priest and fucking her. He never replied.

***************

It was a depressingly boring Sunday night in bed; and on Monday night after coming home from York, she felt as lonely as Candice, so she called her friend.

"Camilla! Hi!" Candice said in an uncharacteristically happy voice.

"Hi, I'm the lonely one now," Camilla said.

"Get over here," Candice said. "I wanna lick you to next week."

In twenty minutes, Camilla was at the front door of Candice's apartment, wearing only a trench coat and high heels. She rang the doorbell; naked Candice rushed over to open it. As she heard Candice's frantic footsteps, Camilla dropped the trench coat onto the floor and kicked off her high heels. Candice then opened the door and looked at her lover.

"Am I looking in a mirror?" the surprised naked girls said together, staring in a daze of amazement at each other's now fully black hair and eyes. Similarly, both girls' pubic hair was all black, their skin was lighter, and their nipples were a darker shade of pink. Neither of them was wearing nail polish, so the blackness of their finger- and toenails was also evident. The naked girls looked like twin Goths.

"Get in here," Candice said after snapping out of her daze, "before the fat guy sees you." Camilla picked up her coat and shoes, and Candice pulled her into the apartment and shut the door. After locking it, Candice followed Camilla into the bedroom. They got on the bed with Candice on top of Camilla. Candice wrapped her hungry wet lips around Camilla's delectable left tit.

"Remember when...I said that Akemi killed herself?" Camilla asked in sighs. "Well, her ghost...ate my...pussy last night...and the...night before. Oh!"

"I'm jealous...of her," Candice moaned between sucks. She was now fingering Camilla's clitoris.

"She's jealous...of us...much more. 'Cause of...her suicide, she's in hell. Ah!"

"So...she felt...that heavy depression?" Candice started kissing her way down to Camilla's pussy. "Akemi's got...the Nigrovum blues."

"Yeah. You must...feel it. Like big rocks...on your back...it's that heavy. Oh!"

"Of course. Why do...you think...I do...drugs all...the time? They cheer...me up." Candice was sucking on Camilla's rock-hard clit now.

"You don't have...to get high," Camilla moaned, getting on top of Candice in the 69 position. "Just think...happy thoughts. Nigrovum will...help you...cheer up." She started licking Candice's pussy.

"Happy thoughts? Without you, no can do." Candice slid her finger inside Camilla's anus.

"Don't wind up...like Akemi. I couldn't bear it," Camilla sighed, sucking on Candice's labia.

"If you're...with me, I won't. Oh!" Candice moaned, then moved her head up to lick Camilla's asshole. Candice put her fingers inside Camilla's wet cunt, fingering her G-spot. Camilla's squealing and heavy breathing were vibrating delightfully against Candice's pussy. Camilla put her tongue inside Candice's vagina, reaching for her G-spot. Candice opened Camilla's asshole wide and slid her tongue in as far as it would go; then she pushed her fingers deeper inside Camilla's pussy, fingering her A-spot.

A Nigrovum-induced high enhanced the girls' horniness, and this positive feeling encouraged Camilla to think that Dr. Singh was right, that far from being a devil, those microscopic ovoid black aliens were really angels; they just had to be used right.

Finally, Camilla was nearing orgasm, and Candice brought her head down to Camilla's cunt in psychic anticipation of the gushing. Camilla screamed in whistle register and came all inside Candice's wide-open mouth. Only a little love-juice dribbled down the sides of Candice's face. She also came, and Camilla licked away the ooze. They lay in each other's arms slowly regaining their breath, then went to sleep.




Camilla Ch. 073



******************

On Tuesday, Camilla went back to Dr. Abruzzi's office.

"Hi sir," she said in her slutty 'Candy' voice after coming in and locking the door behind her. "Do you like what I'm wearing?" Turning around for him, she was in her skin-tight grey outfit with the bell-bottoms.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Abruzzi asked. "Isn't that more the kind of thing you wear at Club Ritz?"

"Yeah," she said, with her back to him and bending over so her ass was in his face. "There's another prof here that I like; he likes me to wear clothes like this, and I just finished my class with him. Then I went to his office and sucked his cock. Since your office hours are right after his, I didn't have time to change into something else."

"Why the need to change?" he asked.

"Well, I like to change my outfits so I can appeal to the different tastes of all my sexy teachers. I know you prefer me in jeans, but is this OK?" She was still bent over; he spanked her on the ass, and she giggled.

"Yes, I like it; it's very sexy," he said.

"Thanks. I like to be sexy for my teachers. Want me to get naked?"

"Yes, I do."

She straightened up and turned around to face him. Then she turned on the radio he had on a nearby shelf and tuned in to a station playing soft lounge jazz. She slowly swayed from side to side as she unzipped herself at the front to reveal her cleavage. She pulled the outfit down to her feet, pulled her feet out of the leg holes, and took off her high heels; wearing no underwear, she was now naked.

She sat on his lap and rubbed her buttocks in a clockwise motion against the bulge in his pants. She looked back at him with squinty eyes and a lewdly agape mouth as her butt-cheeks slid along the length of his hard-on. Then she gently bounced on it, making soft, high-pitched staccato squeals.

"Oh, you have such a big cock, sir," she said. Then she got up, spread her legs, and bent over so he could see her asshole and pussy. Looking back at him upside down from between her legs, she asked, "Remember these holes, sir?" She giggled.

"How could I forget them?" he asked, bringing his head forward. He stuck out his tongue and put the tip of it against her clitoris. With his tongue spread out flat and wide so it could taste all the candy between her legs, he slowly pulled his tongue up from her clit, along her vulva, and up to her asshole in one inclusive lick. His tongue didn't miss a millimetre of Camilla's goodies. She let out a soprano sigh as his tongue came off her anus.

"Do I taste OK?" she asked.

"Like caramel."

"Not like pee or poo?"

"Not at all; you're as immaculate down here as you are filthy in your mind."

She giggled, then moaned as his tongue licked her again and again in the same thorough manner, making both her pussy and asshole tingle with pleasure. He also pressed his lips hard against her asshole in passionate kisses, and wrapped his lips around each of her swollen labia, pulling on them gently and letting them go so they slapped against her cunt. Then he sucked on her stone of a clitoris. As she was moaning and coming closer and closer to coming, she stroked the pole pointing out of his pants. He moved his head up and licked her asshole most energetically while sliding his fingers inside her pussy, tickling her G-spot.

Finally, she said, "Sir, I'm gonna come. Ah!"

Not wanting to make a mess on his office carpet, he moved his head down to receive her waterfall in his mouth, which came a second later. He swallowed most of it, though some dribbled down his chin.

"Now it's my turn," she said, turning around and kneeling between his legs. She unzipped his pants and pulled out his fully-erect cock. "Wanna come in my mouth or on my face?"

"On your face, please?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Your wish is my command." Always looking up at him and smiling lewdly in most willing submission to his desires, she brought the tip of his cock to her lips. She then kissed and licked his knob, and took it half-way inside her mouth. Smirking and giggling lasciviously, she slid her wet lips up and down his shaft, flickering her tongue against his bulging corpus spongiosum. She never took her eyes off his, for she always wanted to know how well her mouth was pleasing him.

Sensing his soon-to-come ejaculation, she played with his balls and moved her head up and down faster and faster. Then she pulled his cock out of her mouth with a popping sound and briefly jerked him off, keeping his cock pointed at her face. Finally, he splashed his load first on her right eye, against the tip of her nose, on her left cheek, on her lips, and on her chin. She giggled like the happy little slut that she was. Looking up at him and grinning, she licked the oozing residue of his come off his dick-hole and drank it as if it were syrup. He looked down at her and smiled.

"DId I please you, sir?" she asked, still grinning as his come dripped down her face.

"Perfectly," he panted. She put his spent member back in his pants and zipped him up.

"Now I gotta go pee-pee," she said, getting up and walking to the door. "Come with me and watch."

"OK, but, uh, Camilla?"

"Yes, sir?" she asked, unlocking the door and opening it slightly.

"Uh, you're going out there naked?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I've got it covered."

"With what? My come?"

"With Nigrovum," she said.

"What's that?" he asked with an incredulous sneer.

"Remember last week, when you pulled my pants down outside on the campus, right in front of everybody?"

"Yeah, and I still don't know how we got away with that."

"Nigrovum is how. I have something--well, otherworldly and magical--in my blood and come. I just visualize what I want, and I get it. I visualized everyone forgetting who they saw with her pants pulled down, and forgetting you were the guy who pulled them down, and everybody forgot it was us."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"You have a better explanation for how we never got in trouble?"

"No."

"Then, give me a few minutes to set up our protection."

"OK," he said, still in complete disbelief and confusion as to what she could possibly have been doing.

She visualized a section of the brains of everyone in the hallway--as well as those of whoever was to come on their floor--a brain section whose function was moral judgement, but only with respect to her and Abruzzi. She imagined it had an on/off switch, like a light switch. She then simply turned it off for everyone there. Then she visualized the whole floor being highlighted by a blue light, inside of which the 'switch' for the judging centre of the brains of everyone coming on the floor would automatically switch off. She wanted the people to know the naked girl in the hall was her, but she also wanted them to judge neither her nor Dr. Abruzzi for their naughtiness; the spectators would also be compelled never to tell anyone about her public indecency. This would keep her and her prof from ever getting in trouble.

"OK," she said, "I've set things so no one will judge us."

"I'm still doubtful," he said nervously.

"Alright, I'll do something extra; they won't know it's you who's with me." Now she visualized all the people seeing Dr. Abruzzi's body as a big blur when he came out into the hall with naked Camilla. She'd make a blur in their vision of much of the walls along the hall where his office was, so the people wouldn't know she and he came out of his office, rather than someone else's. Thus, nobody would know he was with a naked girl in the hall, and no one would gossip about them.

"OK," she said with a lewd smirk. "Let's go."

"W-wait, I-" he said, but she wouldn't be stopped.

Indeed, she walked out, naked from head to toe and with only her face covered, albeit in his come; she walked proudly towards the washroom at the end of the hall.

A half a dozen people, male and female, were in the hall: they just stopped and stared, but were unable to say anything about the bold girl they were seeing every inch of.

With her head held high and her hands hanging in a carefree manner at her sides, with no attempt made at all to cover herself, nude Camilla kept smirking immodestly, casually taking her time to get to the washroom.

A professor in his mid-fifties walked by her in the hall. She grinned at him, perfectly happy to let his eyes rove all over her milky skin. Finally, she went into the bathroom, not locking it.

She sat on the toilet and waited for Dr. Abruzzi. "Come on, sir," she said, fidgeting in desperation to urinate. "Don't be shy. Get in here; I gotta pee!"

Then she used Nigrovum to visualize hands grabbing him by the wrists and pulling him out of his seat. The invisible hands gently pulled him over to the door and opened it. As he was being pulled out into the hall, he timidly looked around at everyone there. The people were all at work, though they had a look of shock and scandalization in their eyes. All the same, they were surprisingly mute. Is she some kind of witch or something? he wondered, then rushed over to the washroom. He went in and locked the door.

"Finally, you're here," she said, still sitting on the toilet. "I can't hold it in much longer. Please, sir, come over and watch me go pee-pee; it turns me on."

"OK," he said, going over and standing in front of her. He looked down at her wide-open legs. She looked up at him with a lascivious smirk and let the pee come pouring out.

"Ahh," she sighed as the golden line went from her urethra into the toilet water. The sound of her piss splashing in the water was like the sound of a soft drink being poured into a glass, about to be given to a man dying of thirst in the summer heat.

She curved her back and pointed her ass out in a sexy S-shape, making her pretty buttocks caress the toilet seat, which was all too happy to take her lovely load on it, and feel those soft cheeks resting against it.

She looked up at him and studied his eyes as they studied her pee coming out from between her legs; she hoped he had a thing for urolagnia. Actually, she was teaching him to appreciate it.

Finally, the last of her pee came out, and she squirted out a few last bits of yellow with high-pitched squeals of "Ooh!" for each squirt. "Oh, all better now," she sighed. Then she reached for the toilet paper and pulled some off the roll.

"That...was beautiful," he said, looking down at her in awe.

"Thanks," she said, wiping her piss residue off her pussy. "But now I'm all stinky." She dropped the soiled toilet paper in the bowl.

"I don't mind. It's your divine pee, after all."

"I thought you didn't like stinky." She got up and flushed, standing to the side so he could see the gold go down in a swirl.

"Not a stinky poo smell; but pee's OK."

"I knew two guys who liked to watch me poop," she said. "Can you believe that?" She casually walked with him to the door and opened it.

"I can believe that," he said, walking out in the hall with the naked girl. "Your goddess body inspires all kinds of fetishism, I'm sure."

"Thank you," she said with a grin as they nonchalantly walked down the the hall back to his office. That fifty-something professor walked by again, looking up and down at her frontal nudity.

"Hi," she said to him, tickling his chin. She and Dr. Abruzzi went back into his office, and everyone else, though still shocked at what they saw, just remained mute and unaware of who was with her.

*******************

On Wednesday night, Camilla, lying on her bed, felt yet another craving to fuck her dad. Not wanting to press her luck, she tried to fight the temptation, but couldn't. She'd succeeded in making him believe their fucking last time was him dreaming about Carrie, so she was emboldened to do it again. Indeed, psychically creating an imaginary setting for him as they fucked made her deception all the more convincing, so she felt she'd be safe.

She went downstairs and into the living room. Agape was drinking as usual that night; he'd already had four bourbons. Having finished his fourth drink, he went to the washroom to pee. She took his empty glass from the table beside his chair and brought it into the kitchen. She fixed him another Jim Beam, and mixed another half pill of ecstasy in it. She brought his drink back into the living room and put it on the table by his chair. When he came back, he saw the drink ready for him.

"Oh, thank you, sweetie," he said in slurs, and sat down.

"You're more than welcome, Daddy," she said with a grin. She sat on the sofa by the coffee table and took out her marijuana and papers.

More dreams to come soon, eh? he thought as she prepared another joint. No, it couldn't be her with me.

"Why don't you put some music on, Daddy?" she said before sealing the joint and lighting it.

"OK," he said. He put on a CD of Miles Davis's Bitches Brew.

After taking a few puffs and giving the joint to him, she said, "Wow, this is trippy music to get high to." She went into the kitchen and got herself a beer.

"Yeah, it's a classic." He puffed away.

After a half hour of smoking and drinking, the E began to kick in.

She psychically made him drowsy again. He had his eyes closed for a minute, then he opened them and saw the inner decor of the mansion again, and 'Carrie' was looking down at him, with Camilla's naked body below her neck. The dirty towels were on the living room carpet again.

"Let's make love," she said, then sat on his lap, facing him. She kissed him on the lips and caressed his cheeks. She sighed, "I love you; I love you so much, Da--Aga." Then she unbuttoned his shirt and kissed her way down from his face and neck to his hairy chest and belly. After that, she pulled down his pants and underwear. She knelt between his legs. Using Nigrovum to get him hard, she put his cock in her mouth.

She looked up lovingly in his eyes as her head went up and down on his cock. She kissed the tip, licked the underside, and deep-throated him. She so worshipped and adored the sacred organ that gave her life, she would have the whole shaft in her oral care. His pubic hair tickled her face, some of it going up her nostrils. She didn't care that he had the taste of a recent piss; if other men could fetish her pee, she could fetish her daddy's.

He looked down at 'Carrie' and was amazed at what he saw. Carrie once tried to deep-throat me, he thought; but she coughed and gagged within a second! How's she able to do it now without gagging?

Camilla pulled her head back, having his cock only half-way inside her mouth. As she kept on sucking, she thought, and wished she could say, Oh, Daddy, if only I could tell you it's me who's pleasing you!

Amazed at the sudden growth of skill of his 'girlfriend's' oral skills, he came in her mouth. She swallowed it all, not missing a drop of that divine nectar, then she rested a while. His head was swimming on the ecstasy, so he still suspected nothing.

She, however, wanted more.

She psychically gave her father another erection, and gently pulled him down from his chair and onto the towels, where he lay on his back. Then she got on top of him, feeding his cock in her pussy. As it went in deeper and deeper, her squeals and screams got higher and louder.

With the first pleasant punching of his knob against her A-spot, she squealed in whistle register and came a flood on his lap. Then she bounced up and down on his huge cock, screaming high notes and shaking with electrification. She looked down at him, whispering, "I love you, Daddy! I love you...so much! I want...to tell you. Oh!"

Her sighed declarations of love were soft enough for him not to hear. Still, things seemed out of place to him. As they kept fucking, he looked up at his lover, assuming he was dreaming again, but not understanding many things. Why had he been having this recurring dream recently? Why did Carrie always have the body of a teenager? Why did she scream during sex like a wild nymphomaniac? Since when did she smoke and drink? This wasn't like her at all. If this was all just a dream, why was he dreaming it? Freud had to be wrong about dreams being wish-fulfillments, for Agape never, in his wildest fantasies, wanted Carrie to look and act the way she was acting in these dreams. He wanted to wake up. He really, really wanted to wake up.

Unconsciously using Nigrovum, he saw the interior of the mansion change back into his living room. Then he looked at the naked young black-haired, black-eyed girl riding on his cock. In his drunk, stoned stupor, he couldn't quite make out her face in the dimly lit room. Still, he was fucking for real, and it wasn't with Carrie.

"Hey! What the--" he slurred.

Camilla instantly realized he'd been using his own growing psychic powers to cancel out hers! As she'd seen with her experience with Father Josiah last Mass, her power was no longer exclusively hers. She was no longer the only god among mortals.

Quickly, she used Nigrovum to put him into a brief sleep; since she was so much more practiced at using this power than he--and had millions more of those microscopic black 'eggs' in her blood--she could overpower him with little difficulty.

As he lay asleep, she sped up her fucking. She was reluctant to do so, of course, because his cock felt better than any other man's inside her euphoric pussy--she wanted to go on fucking him forever, for such was her idea of heaven. Still, for safety's sake, she had to finish up. Within two minutes of riding his cock, she came all over his lap. Then she cleaned up all the mess, including his soaking lap, and pulled his pants and underwear back up.

When she was sure everything was OK, she was ready to wake him up. She made her eyes temporarily blue again.

"Daddy?" she said, shaking him.

"W-was I asleep again?" he asked, opening his eyes.

"Yeah, for quite a while. You were out cold. And that must have been some dream you were having."



Camilla Ch. 074



Late on Thursday night, Camilla was on her way home from Club Ritz all disappointed and annoyed; no matter how hard she tried to use Nigrovum to get Father Josiah to come over to the strip joint and then fuck her at the hotel, he resisted. She'd visualized the rose floating over to his heart, and he used the same psychic power to send it back to her. She psychically heated up his heart with lust, then he cooled it with chastity. Finally, she gave up in frustration.

"That mama's boy!" she growled as she walked on the sidewalk to Agape's house. "He can't upset his mommy, who's watching him from up in heaven. Fuck!"

She hadn't bothered going with Candice to her apartment because they'd made love onstage several times that night. Camilla had had her fill of lesbian love: she wanted cock, and none of the men at Club Ritz were to her liking.

Walking through the door of her father's house, she saw him drinking in the living room as usual, but decided to leave off fucking him for a while. He'd gotten dangerously close to discovering what she'd been doing with him the night before, and she wanted to wait a while before taking another chance. After all, like the priest, Agape was learning, however subconsciously, to reverse her powers. He wasn't ready to know the truth about her feelings for him, so she just went upstairs to her bedroom.

Desperate for some kind of sex, she channeled the spirits of Larre, Holland, and Davis for a nocturnal gang-bang. After setting up selective psychic barriers to keep away all unwanted incubi and other ghosts, she went to sleep.

Soon enough, in her dream she found herself in that burning Satanic mansion, and those three sexy incubi arrived right away. She lay naked on the floor of basement one, and Larre pointed his erection at her mouth. Holland got on top of her and pulled her legs up so both her pussy and asshole would be accessible; then he slid his cock inside her cunt. Davis got behind Holland, and aimed his cock for her asshole. Larre put his cock in her mouth, and Davis slid his cock in her ass. All three men were shoving in and pulling out in perfectly synchronized movements. Holland grabbed her tits and squeezed them.

Agape went upstairs, having drunk enough. As he was passing by Camilla's bedroom, he couldn't help noticing the squeals she was making. He slowly opened the door, assuming she'd brought over a lover without getting his permission. He was drunk enough to have few inhibitions about invading her privacy, but not so drunk as not to be careful about making his intrusion known to her.

Looking inside the dark room, he tried to make out in the dimness who she was having sex with. He didn't see anyone, male or female, with her; he did see his naked daughter with her legs spread wide open, and her asshole and pussy stretched out wide as if to be receiving cock in each--but no men were to be seen! Her mouth was wide open, too, with her right cheek puffed out, as though a cock was moving in and out of her mouth. Her breasts were being squeezed, apparently, but he saw no hands. Most eerie of all, though, was hearing her screams of ecstasy, which sounded all too familiar to him--in his own 'dreams'! Finally, he watched her spew her orgasm all over the bedsheets, like water coming out of a hose.

"I've had way too much to drink," he said to himself in slurs. "That must be it." He closed the door and went to his own bedroom to sleep.

*****************

On Friday night at Club Ritz, Camilla again tried using Nigrovum to get cock: she summoned Alex, Dr. Lawson, and Dr. Lee, but none of them responded to her psychic prodding.

Fidgeting on her chair in frustration, she said, "What the fuck is going on? Doesn't my power work anymore? Have I used it all up again? Or have those guys all gained the power to resist me too, like Father Josiah?"

"What's wrong, Camil?" Candice asked as she approached the table where Camilla was sitting.

"Nobody wants to fuck me," she said, almost crying.

"What are you talking about?" Candice asked. "Every guy here wants to fuck you."

"I know, but I don't want any of them. I want one of my profs. Oh, Sam came by again and begged me for sex. He says there's a party tomorrow night at the house of some rich guy, one of the top people in the CBC; Sam was invited by a friend of a friend, and he wants to take me there. You know I don't really wanna fuck him, though I may out of desperation; such has been my luck lately. Still, if I see a distinguished gentleman there, or if the rich media guy is handsome, it'll be worth going; I'd be happy to fuck a guy like that."

Candice sighed in jealous annoyance at the undying promiscuity of the girl she so loved. "Wanna come over to my place tonight? I may not have a dick, but I have an electric tongue." She flickered it.

"Yeah, I'll come over as soon as they close up here, which should be any time now," Camilla said. "Daddy's having Carrie over to our house tonight. They're gonna fuck--ugh! How I don't wanna be there to hear that, and how I wish he'd end it with her. I'm sure he's gonna want to marry her, but she isn't right for him."

"How do you know that? If they're happy together, then--"

"She isn't right for him!" Camilla snapped.

"OK, OK. You don't have to bite my head off, Camil."

"Sorry, baby. C'mon, let's go. Take me home and lick my pussy." They left.

****************

In the bedroom of Candice's apartment, Camilla lay on her back on the bed while Candice pleasured her. Camilla's legs were wide open and up over her head so both her pussy and asshole were accessible. Candice slid a vibrator in and out of Camilla's pussy while licking her asshole. Though it wasn't as good as feeling a real dick inside her, Camilla had to settle for what was available. Her moans were softer, but audible enough to show her appreciation for Candice's efforts.

Soon after, Candice removed the vibrator and picked up a butt-plug. She slowly pushed it against Camilla's anal orifice while licking her clitoris. Now Camilla's moans were getting louder. Candice sucked on that stone of a clit, and the butt-plug slid in a few inches. Candice then put her tongue inside Camilla's cunt, reaching for and finding her G-spot. After wiggling her tongue in there for a minute or two, Camilla came in Candice's gluttonous mouth.

"Thanks, baby," Camilla sighed. "I needed that."

"So did I," Candice said after licking the remaining come off her lips. She lay on the bed beside her lover; they held each other, Camilla kissing her on the cheek several times before they fell asleep.

Having forgotten to set up the psychic barriers again, Camilla dreamed of Akemi in the basement dining room of the burning mansion. Camilla was holding Li-ping. Both were naked.

"Why you with her?" Akemi asked.

"Oh, she's just scared," Camilla said. "You wanna make love?"

"Yeah," Akemi said. She put her head between Camilla's legs and started licking. Camilla gently kissed Li-ping on the cheek as she received Akemi's tongue on her clitoris.

Nude Calina then came over and sat on Camilla's face. As Camilla licked the Russian girl's hairy pussy, all three succubi chanted, "Come make love with us, Camilla. Come make love with us: forever, and ever, and ever."

Then Camilla saw the bloody bodies of all three of them: Calina and Li-ping with bullet holes in their heads, and Akemi with slashed wrists and 'CAMILLA' carved on her chest.

Camilla woke up with a fright. Candice's tongue was licking away, and her legs were up, receiving an incubus' cock.

"Candice's ex and Jasmine must be enjoying her," Camilla said; then she set up the psychic barriers and went to sleep, though it took her much longer to lose consciousness this time.

****************

On Saturday night, Sam took Camilla to the rich media man's house for the party. The guest room was a large area filled with people, young and old, and many famous faces she'd seen on the TV. Judging by the clothes she saw everyone wearing, it was safe to assume they were all as rich as their host was.

"Wow," Camilla said as she looked around. "So this is how the other half live. How do you know these people?"

"I have a friend of a friend of a friend," Sam said. "You know how it is; it ain't what you know, it's who you know."

"Understood," Camilla said. Then she looked intensely in his eyes, locking his gaze on hers. "Go mingle, Sam."

"OK," he said, as if in a trance. Under her psychic influence, he then went over to one corner of the room where there were some pretty young girls. She, in the meantime, went to the diagonally opposite corner of the room, where she saw some distinguished-looking, fifty-something gentlemen in tuxedos.

She was wearing a black evening gown, one that wasn't as revealing as what she'd worn at the wine and cheese party, where she teased Dr. Abruzzi; for underneath, she was wearing a white lace bra and panties. Tiring of her pale, black-haired 'Goth' look, she also used Nigrovum to restore her peach-coloured skin, blonde hair and blue eyes.

Of the mature gentlemen she spotted in that corner of the room, she noticed a particularly good-looking one, a tall, thin man with wavy silver hair. She did a psychic scan of him, and realized he was the host of the party, a high-ranking producer for the CBC. She scanned further to learn of his sexual tastes. She found nothing objectionable; two particular fetishes of his were ladies underwear and peeing--she was certainly dressed for the occasion.

She took a glass of champagne from a tray of drinks a server was carrying around the room. Sipping on it, she looked at him with a smirk and a 'come hither' sparkle in her eyes. Naturally fascinated with this young blonde beauty and forgetting about his wife for the moment, the man started walking up to her. Her psychic powers, however, were showing their limitations again, for Sam suddenly appeared at her side.

"Hey, baby, what's up?" he asked.

"W-what?" she asked, startled and looking back at him. Frowning in annoyance at his intrusion, she then said, "Oh, uh, I'm fine."

"You ain't avoiding me, are you?" he asked.

"Uh, no, no, of course not. Look, let's find some place private, OK? Maybe there's a room in the basement somewhere."

"Sounds good."

As they snuck away to the stairs, she looked back at the gentleman with the underwear fetish. He looked back at her and smiled, but then remembered his wife. Camilla and Sam went down the stairs.

They walked down a short hallway in the basement and found a den to the right side. They went inside and turned on the light. There was a pool table and other recreational games, as well as a wall-mounted TV. An adjoining washroom was in the corner diagonally opposite the corner where the entrance to the den was.

"This is nice," she said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Let's get it on." He put his arms around her and kissed her, poking his tongue inside her mouth. Then he unzipped her dress at the back and pulled the straps off her shoulders. Her dress fell on the floor. He looked up and down at her, admiring the pretty flower designs on her white bra and panties. Then he looked at her whore-bright make-up, with her cherry-red lips. He was on fire with lust.

He grabbed her ass and kissed her more aggressively. His hands squeezed her ass so hard it hurt. Annoyed at how rough he was being, she pulled away, making him stop kissing her.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked.

"I-I gotta pee," she said.

"Oh, come on, girl, not now," he whined. "I'm gettin' all hot, and you wanna stop?"

"I'll just be a minute. You wait here." She pinched the hard-on in his pants and walked over to the washroom. She went in, closed the door and sat on the toilet seat without pulling down her panties. The toilet was against the right wall as one entered the washroom, immediately next to the entrance, with about two and a half feet of wall hiding the toilet as one looked in the washroom from out in the den.

She did have to pee, but it could wait. She visualized him looking down at her dress, and having a fetish for it. She sent him a new psychic suggestion: steal my dress. She chanted this softly, over and over again. After two minutes of this mantra, she opened the bathroom door and walked out. Sam was gone, and so was her dress.

Good, she thought; now for that media mogul guy. She visualized him walking to the stairs and coming down.

The target of her passions, mingling with some of his guests and with his wife at his side, soon started feeling sensual vibrations against his ears and temples, urging him to go down to the basement. Those vibes seemed to be emanating from that hot young blonde he'd seen looking at him not too long ago.

"Excuse me, honey," he said to his wife. "I s-suddenly realized something I gotta do, down in the basement. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"OK, Ted," she said. "Take your time."

As Ted walked almost mechanically toward the stairs, he saw Sam walking quickly to the front door with a rolled-up ball of black material in his hands. Too mesmerized by Nigrovum to see any significance in what Sam was doing, Ted continued to the stairs and went down to the basement. In the dark hallway, he saw light coming from the den. As he approached, Camilla opened the den door, insouciantly displaying herself in only her underwear and black high heels.

"Hi," she said to him.

"Hi," he said, finding it impossible not to ogle, and feeling his dick getting hard.

"Can you help me?" she asked with feigned nervousness.

"Sure. What is it?"

"The guy I came here with, a young black guy; he stole my dress."

"Uh-oh. I think I saw him walking out the front door with it and leaving just now."

"Oh, great," she whined. "It's too late now. What am I gonna do? I can't go up there in my underwear."

"I can give you my blazer. It should be big enough to cover you."

"Oh, you'd lend it to me?" she asked, beaming up at the tall man as if he were her saviour. "Thank you, sir!" She threw her arms around him, rubbing her belly against his erection.

"You...are welcome," he panted, putting his arms around her back and barely resisting the temptation to snap her bra. "I hope...my wife doesn't come down...here and...see us here."

"Ooh!" she squealed suddenly. "I gotta pee." She went back into the den, and he followed her. She went back into the bathroom, leaving the door open a foot. He stood by the ajar door, looking in, and amazed that she was letting him look. Though she wanted to titillate his desires, she didn't want to reveal the yummier parts of her anatomy just yet, so when she pulled down her panties with her left hand, she was careful to keep her pubic hair covered with her right hand. She sat on the toilet, her right hand always on her crotch, covering her pubic hair. She then opened the door half-way and started peeing. "Come in and talk to me," she said.

"Oh, uh, OK," he said, walking in. Standing before her and looking down at her eyes, then between her wide-open legs, he watched her pee pouring out.

"What's your name, sir?" she asked.

"Ted Weinstein," he said, and put out his hand for her to shake. "I'm the host of this party; I'm a producer for the CBC."

"Wow, impressive. I'm Camilla," she said, shaking his hand with her left and looking up at him with the wide-eyed innocence of a child, acting as though there was nothing at all private about what she was doing. "Nice to meet you." The pee kept coming out copiously.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, watching in admiration as her apple juice swirled in and merged with the toilet bowl water. As amazed by her lack of inhibition as he was aroused by it, he sniffed the sweetly bitter smell of her urine.

After squirting her last few drops out, she said, "OK, I'm done." Then she reached for the toilet paper on the wall to the left of the door. Keeping her right hand on her crotch, she tried ripping off some of the TP with only her left, but it started rolling down to the floor.

"I'll get that," he said, quickly bending over and catching the toilet paper before it touched the ground. He ripped some off, folded it neatly, and handed it to her. "Here you are, sweetie." He got up, always looking down at her.

"Thank you, Mr. Weinstein," she said, talking the toilet paper from him and wiping her pussy dry, all the while keeping it hidden from his eager eyes. She dropped the TP in the water, stood up with her right hand still covering her pubic hair, and stepped aside so he could see her pee. He looked down at the liquid gold in the toilet water: this was her chance to pull up her panties. Still, she used only her free hand to pull them up, in case he suddenly looked back and saw her pubic hair. It was awkward for her, and she got only the left side of her panties up to her hips; her right hip was still exposed.

"Oh, let me help you," he said, pulling up the right side of her panties. The elastic snapped against her hip when he let go.

"Thanks again, Mr. Weinstein," she said.

"Please, call me Ted. There's no need to be so formal, sweetie."

"Sorry--Ted."

"No need to say 'sorry', either. Anyway, I guess I'd better take you home."

"Thank you, Ted. You're so sweet." She pulled down on his shirt collar, making him bend over. Then she kissed him on the cheek.

"Wait," he said. "If there's a lipstick mark, my wife will know."

"OK, I'll clean it." She poured some sink water on her fingers and used it to rub the red mark off his cheek. Now he just had to worry about the bulge in the front of his pants.

They walked out of the washroom and out of the den. As they walked down the hall to the stairs, he handed her his blazer.

"Oh, you don't have to give it to me yet, sir--I mean, Ted. There aren't any other people here. If you wanna enjoy seeing me in my underwear a little longer, I don't mind."

"Thank you," he said as they started going up the stairs. In front of him, she had her ass level with his face, deliberately just inches away. "I can't believe how...well, liberal, you're being with me."

"It's my pleasure," she said. "You're been so sweet to me; I wanna be nice to you." She suddenly stopped, letting his face bump against her ass. She swayed her behind left to right, rubbing it against his nose and mouth. Then they continued up the stairs, and could now hear the voices of all the guests.

"OK, you'd better take my blazer now."

"Oh, it can wait. I don't mind if a few people see--"

"But I do mind. I don't want my wife to see you so scantily clad, with me right behind you."

"OK," Camilla said, taking the blazer and putting it on.

"Hurry outside alone," Ted said, "and I'll be with you in a minute. I hope it won't be too chilly for you out there. I have to make up some excuse for my wife, for why I'm leaving."

"OK, I'll wait by the front door," Camilla said.

Five minutes later, she and Ted were in his car, driving out of the parking area and onto the road. As they continued along the road, she saw Sam driving back with her dress; obviously, the Nigrovum had worn off earlier than she'd intended it to.  

"That fuckin' bitch!" he shouted as he saw her pass by with the man he'd seen her eyeing earlier at the party. It was obvious to him now that she'd never intended to sleep with him that night. "I'm giving up on her. Fuck her!" He unrolled his car window, threw her dress out onto the road, and drove home.

She never noticed her dress being thrown away, but she wouldn't have cared even if she had; she was more concerned about how her psychic powers weren't as effective as they had been before. She didn't think she was running out of power; she hadn't been using it all that much. Sometimes it felt as though psychic barriers were being put up around her, not allowing her to use her power to its full potential. She'd have to figure out how to punch through those walls.




Camilla Ch. 074



Twenty minutes later, Ted reached Camilla's dad's house, and parked on the driveway. They got out of the car and walked to the front door of the house. She took off his blazer and gave it to him.

"You can wear it inside," he said. "I don't want you to embarrass yourself in front of the neighbours."

"Oh, don't worry about them," she said. "It's late, they're all in bed. Please, take it."

"OK. If you insist." He put his blazer back on, ogling her pretty underwear, and hoping his ogling wasn't too obvious.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you, Ted?" She psychically fired up his heart.

"Well, uh," he said, finding it impossible to fight off the temptation. "Can I see you again?"

"Absolutely," she said. "Come here on Monday night. My daddy won't be home; he'll be dating his--ahem--girlfriend, and I'll have the house all to myself. I can cook you dinner."

"OK, but my wife--"

"You don't have to stay the night. We can be done with everything we're gonna do by about ten or eleven: Daddy won't be back home any earlier than that. Just tell your wife the truth: that you're seeing a friend--you know, for drinks. I'll wear a sexy dress; but this time, no underwear. See you then." She kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll be here at about eight."

"Great. See you then. Good night, and thank you." She opened the door and walked inside. He ogled those beautiful round buttocks her panties were caressing. With the door still wide open and her back to him, she took off her bra and let it fall to the floor. She kicked off her high heels. Then she put her index and middle fingers on her nipples so all the rest of her breasts were showing; she turned around to face him, let him get a good eyeful, and used her foot to close the door.

"Good night, shiksa goddess," he panted.

******************

On Sunday morning at Mass, Camilla's hair was black again, though she made her eyes blue for Agape's sake. Father Josiah's sermon was about resisting temptation: again, he often looked hard into her eyes as he spoke.

When Mass was finished and she and Agape went over to the priest to say goodbye, she waited for her father to go outside before having words with Josiah. She used Nigrovum to disguise the content of what she was saying, making all within earshot think their conversation was an innocent, Christian one.

"It's been so long since I've gotten down and prayed with you, Father," she seemed to say. (Actually, she said, "It's been so long since I've gotten down on you and prayed, Father.")

"Yes, and I'm sad about that," he said. ("Yes, and I'm glad about that.") Like her, he'd learned the Satanists' use of Nigrovum to disguise wicked speech with words of virtue.

"I thought you'd want your hands laid on me." ("I thought you'd want to get laid with me.")

"No need for that anymore," he said. "Only faith in God's the cure." ("I only crave God's allure.")

"Eating the body of Christ?" she asked. ("Needing your mommy? How nice," she taunted.)

"That, and works of charity for the poor." ("That won't work at all on me anymore.")

"If you fall into bad thoughts, I'll be praying." ("Oh, you'll want me back, Father; I'll be waiting.")

"I won't, Camilla. I'm resolved. I'll ask Christ for a shield to protect you from sin." ("I've cast a psychic force field to protect you from sin.")

"Man! Will you? So I'll never have terror at night?" ("That was you? So I'll never have pleasure at night?")

"It's for your own good," he insisted.

"You're so zealous for my holiness!" ("You're just jealous of my happiness!")

"I'm doing the Lord's work."

"What if I stop coming to church? You'll worry about my lost soul, and you'll want this sheep here again, back in the fold? Help me." ("...and you'll want to sleep with me again, back in my holes. You'll see.") She left, trying her best to hide her anger.

As he said goodbye to the other parishioners, he tried to hide his shaking. He was indeed zealous for her, and jealous of her.

*****************

Late that afternoon, she checked the messages on her cell-phone, which she hadn't looked at all day. A message had been left by Bob.

"It's about time he contacted me," she said, clicking on the message. "What's he been doing all this time?"

This was the message:

"I'm in jail. 22 Division. I was caught doing bad stuff on our website. I'm sorry. Please come see me. I'm going crazy. Bob."

She went to the police station. A policewoman told her what he did.

"My God!" Camilla said. "I can't believe it!"

"Did you know anything about this?" the policewoman asked.

"No!" Camilla said. "Of course not! That bastard! I wanna see him."

"This way." The policewoman took her to a room where she could talk to Bob. Camilla waited at a table, and in a few minutes, Bob came into the room to see her.

"Hi Camilla," he said with a shamed look on his face.

"You've got some explaining to do," she said.

"Yeah, I do."

"You put viruses on my website? Spyware? Why?" she demanded.

"To steal credit card numbers from all the guys who jerk off to your pix and video, and get at their money. Everybody in porn does it," Bob said.

"Not on my website, they don't. I don't want any dirty money."

Bob started getting choked up. "Look, about those links. I--"

"Yeah, what about them? Links to kiddie porn websites? You sick asshole! How could you?"

*****************

In another room, the policewoman was listening to their conversation with some other cops.

"From the looks of it, she seems to have been telling the truth. She didn't know about what he was doing," a male cop said.

"Or she's an excellent actress, and she's covering her ass," the policewoman said.

*****************

"How could you betray me like that?" Camilla shouted.

"I-I don't know. I--" Bob began, crying. "I've been going crazy lately. I don't know what's wrong with me. I sleep at night, and that girl I fucked in Vancouver, she fucks me in my dreams, and I wake up with a scratched, bloody back. Her presence in my dreams seems so real: is she a ghost or something? She's getting revenge on me for what I did to her."

"What did you do to her?" Camilla asked, shuddering.

"OK, what I told you about her before; it wasn't the truth. She wasn't just some woman I had casual sex with one night; she was sixteen, and I...I..."

"You raped her?"

"Yes!" He was crying loudly now. "I feel like something's inside me," Bob continued, always sobbing. "Something alien, warping my mind. Whatever it is, it gets me hornier than I normally am. Makes me want things I never used to want...at least I don't think I ever wanted those things before. Money. Underage pussy. I don't know who I am anymore. Help me, Camil."

His rape victim must have died from depression and despair, Camilla thought; her scratching on his back was her fighting to get him off her. Now she scratches to get back at the bastard. Camilla rose slowly from her chair with a look of speechless shock on her face.

"Camilla?" Bob said. "Please forgive me."

Camilla turned around and slowly walked toward the door.

"Camilla! Don't leave me! I can't bear to be alone now! Camilla!"

She walked out of the room, then went into a washroom. She found a toilet stall, went in and locked the door. She sat on the toilet and meditated. First, she visualized all the viruses he'd put on her website. Locking an image of all of them in her mind, she imagined them all on fire and disintegrating. In a minute, they were all gone; her website was clean. Then she visualized a deletion of all the kiddie porn links: within seconds, they were all gone, too.

Finally, she imagined Bob confessing to all his crimes, including the rape of the Vancouver girl. In his confession, he would insist that Camilla had no knowledge of, or involvement in, any of his crimes. She imagined his every word, carefully chosen to ensure she'd never be implicated in any way.

Then she left the police station.

*****************

On Monday night, Ted rang the doorbell to Agape's house. Camilla wore the dark blue evening gown she'd worn at the wine and cheese party, the one she turned Dr. Abruzzi on in; she came to the door and opened it. She'd made her hair and eyes temporarily blonde and blue again.

"Hi Ted," she said. "Come in."

"Wow," he gasped, unable to take his eyes off her cleavage. "You look...so hot!"

"Thanks," she said. "Wait'll you see me from behind." She turned around and walked toward the dinner table. As he followed her in, he gasped again at the sight of her two inches of exposed buttock cleavage.

They sat at the table and began eating. She'd served Fettucine alfredo with shrimp for them.

"Now, here's something I never eat with my family," he said, popping some of the food in his mouth.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Shrimp," he said. "Mmm, this is good!"

"Thanks. Why doesn't your family serve you shrimp?"

"Because the rest of my family are observant Jews." He put some more in his mouth.

"Oh, no!" she said. "I'm so sorry. Had I known, I would have--"

"Oh, it's OK, really. I'm an atheist. I don't need my food to be kosher. Don't worry about it. In fact, your cooking is delicious. You are talented in the kitchen."

"Thanks."

"I've been meaning to ask: how old are you?"

"About 18 and a half."

"Good God! I'm old enough to be your father."

"I know," she said with a lewd smile.

After dinner, she took him up to her bedroom.

"Ready to see the rest of me?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," he said, sitting on the bed and unzipping his pants. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

She dropped her dress, revealing her frontal nudity to him. His jaw dropped to the ground. Then she turned around for him, so his eyes could feast on her soft pair of peaches at the back.

"Do you like my body?" she asked with a grin.

"You're a shiksa goddess," he gasped. "You're Asherah, all the way."

"Thanks." She kicked off her high heels and got on the bed on all fours, with her legs spread wide apart so he could see her asshole and pussy.

Panting as he ogled her, he frantically took off his pants and underwear and got on the bed behind her. Pointing his erection at her pussy, he asked, "What about condoms?"

"You won't need 'em," she said. "My body kills off any viruses or germs that come in."

"How's that?" he asked, sneering in disbelief.

"I have friends in high places," she said. "The sons of God."

"I don't follow you."

"You don't have to," she said, using Nigrovum to turn off his questioning mind. Though she felt Father Josiah's psychic barriers interfering with her fun, she visualized huge fists punching at those walls. After several strikes, the walls were torn down, and she could finally feel her power being restored to her to the maximum. Now she knew she had Ted all in her control.

He pushed his erection against her wet vaginal orifice, making her moan. Then he slid it in a few inches; she moaned higher and louder. Finally, he went all the way in; he was about six and a half inches--just her length. The thickness of his cock rubbed against her G-spot, exciting it. The tip of his cock pressed kisses against her A-spot, and after the first four pokes, she came her first orgasm.

"Ah!" she screamed.

"Jesus Christ!" he groaned. "That...was fast! You're a...wet one."

"Oh, don't stop!" she squealed. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Ah!"

He thrust away, aggressively and quickly. She came a second time, drenching her bedsheets and amazing him.

"We...keep this up, and we're...gonna drown. Unh!"

"Keep going! Go! Go! Oh!" she screamed.

She was making so much noise that neither of them heard the front door open. Agape had just kissed Carrie goodnight and walked into his house. The upstairs lovers didn't hear him, but he sure heard them...or her, rather.

"Oh, my God! Ah!" she screamed. "Fuck my...hot pussy. Oh!" she came a third time.

"You're in-satiable," he panted. Oh!"

Though Agape wasn't too happy with his daughter bringing some stranger into his house for casual sex, he was much more worried about how familiar that screaming sounded. Of course, if he'd gone into her bedroom as before, he might have seen only her as he had before. He'd had a few to drink when he was with Carrie, so maybe in his inebriation he was imagining things again. Anyway, he hoped that was the case. If there really was a man with her this time (and it really sounded that way this time), he didn't want to confront the situation. To save face, he quietly went into his bedroom and closed the door, waiting for the other man to leave.

"How many...more times...are you...going to come?" Ted asked in sighs.

"You ready...to come?" she moaned.

"Yeah, pretty soon."

"Take it out, then stand on the bed."

He pulled his cock out, and she turned around. He was standing, and she was on her knees before his cock, jerking him off with his cock pointing straight at her face. He moaned louder and louder, then blew his load. He splashed on her nose, her forehead, her left eye, and her right cheek. He just looked down in amazement.

"Sheila," he panted. "Get over here...and take notes."

"Who's Sheila?" Camilla asked.

"My wife," he said.

After several more minutes of catching their breath, he got dressed. She, still naked and with his come dripping down her cheeks, followed him out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

At the front door, he said, "Thanks for a wonderful evening, Camilla. If you ever want a job at the CBC, just let me know."

"OK, and thank you, sir--I mean Ted. That was a lay I really needed; I've been sexually starving for the past several days."

"Really?" he asked. "Somehow, I find that hard to believe. Anyway, good night. I hope we can get together again some time."

"Me, too. Good night." He left.

She went back upstairs, washed her face, and went to bed, totally unaware that her father had already come home. Luckily for her, the timid man had no intention of confronting her with what she'd done; he was too worried contemplating those all-too-familiar screams.

**********************

The next day, Camilla received a phone call from that policewoman.

"Hello?" Camilla asked.

"I have some good news and some bad news for you," the policewoman said. "Come over to the police station and I'll let you know."

Camilla arrived there in about an hour. She and the policewoman went into a private room. "What's this good and bad news?" Camilla asked nervously.

The policewoman explained, "The good news is, Bob confessed to everything, including his raping and murdering a teenage girl back in Vancouver."

"Murder?" Camilla asked with a gasp.

"Yes, but you didn't let me finish," the policewoman continued. "The good news is, he corroborated your story, insisting you knew nothing about his computer crimes; so you don't need to worry about any charges being laid against you."

"Oh, good."

"The bad news is, your business partner is going to prison for many years; the judge has to decide how many, and will tell Bob some time later this week."

"I see."

After finishing her discussion with the policewoman, Camilla left the police station with a dazed look in her eyes.

Small wonder he was so willing to leave Vancouver and be with me in Toronto, she thought as she looked for a taxicab; Now I need a new photographer.



Camilla Ch. 075



On Wednesday afternoon, Camilla, with blonde hair and blue eyes again, was in her class, 'Literature: Forms and Approaches.' Her teacher, Dr. Martin, a handsome, silver-haired Englishman in his late fifties, both attracted and repelled her--he looked and sounded a lot like Richard Dawkins, the advocate of atheism, a man whose lack of religious faith offended her Catholic sensibilities, but whose erudition, suave English accent, and obvious intelligence excited her. Though she didn't know anything about Dr. Martin's personal beliefs, he reminded her enough about Dawkins, both physically and intellectually, to give her the same jolts of attraction and repulsion; thus she'd been undecided whether to seduce or not to seduce. After a month of attending his lectures, she was now leaning toward the former.

During this Wednesday's lecture, he spoke of psychoanalytic readings of literature, introducing Freud's theories. "According to Freud," Dr. Martin said, "children go through a phase in their relationship with their parents called the 'Oedipus complex'; they have sexual feelings for the parent of the opposite sex, while having feelings of hostility for the parent of the same sex, who is the child's rival for the love of the former parent. Jung provided the term 'Electra complex' for girls' version of this Oedipal conflict, since in Greek myth, Electra deeply loved her father, Agamemnon, and hated her mother, Clytemnestra, for plotting his murder with her lover, Aegisthus."

That's my life he's talking about, Camilla thought. Those are my desires he's describing: Dr. Martin's brilliant. She put her hand under her miniskirt, slipped it in her panties, and started fingering her clitoris.

"With the Electra complex," Dr. Martin continued, "the daughter begins to envy the penis...her father's penis. She wants it; this theory, perhaps more than any other, is why Freud has been marginalized in psychology--perhaps more through the opposition of the vast majority of feminists than through that of all the other critics of psychoanalysis. His ideas, however, still have some influence in the humanities, as in the writings of feminist Camille Paglia."

"Right again," Camilla whispered. Now her finger was flickering inside her cunt. I don't know about most women, she thought; but I sure want my daddy's cock; if I had one attached to my body, I wouldn't stop playing with it. "Dr. Martin, you're so hot." Sitting beside her at the front row of desks was a young man; he couldn't help looking down and watching what she was doing between her legs.

"As the girl grows up, she replaces her desire for her father with a desire for men in general," Martin said.

Or she supplements Daddy with men in general, she thought; men like you. She stuck her finger in deeper, reaching for her A-spot. Her panties were getting damp from her pussy's moisture.

"And desire for his penis, his 'little one', as Freud called it,..."

You're wrong there, Sigmund, she thought; Daddy's got a great big one. Her hand was jerking faster in her panties. The young man was really hoping her miniskirt would flip up so he could see more.

"...is replaced with a desire for a different 'little one', a baby," the prof said.

Wrong again, Freud, she thought; I don't want a baby...well, not yet, anyway. "Oh!" She blushed to think that anyone might have heard her; the young man beside her only smiled.

Dr. Martin then discussed Freud's views on religion: "Freud saw God as an illusion, based on the infantile need for a powerful father figure."

Oh, no, she thought; he's sounding like Dawkins again. Still, Dawkins is hot. Trying her best to keep her sighs as soft as possible, she was approaching orgasm.

"Freud also said that in religion man yearns for 'a sensation of eternity, a feeling as of something limitless, unbounded--as it were, oceanic."

"Agreed," she whispered. She tried to disguise her moaning with coughs as she came, as it were, an ocean, in her panties.

"Freud himself, however, never knew that oceanic feeling," Dr. Martin said.

I know it, she thought. Getting a small plastic bag out of her purse, she pulled off her soaking panties, trying her best not to make a mess on the floor, and put them in the bag.

The young man beside her was getting bold. "Next time," he said, ogling her, "if you need a helping hand, just let me know."

She looked in his eyes intensely, her eyes temporarily turning black. "You don't want to pursue me," she said with a hypnotic hum to her voice.

"I don't want to pursue you," he said in a zombie-like way.

"I'm not the kind of girl you're looking for." She quickly cooled the lust in his pants.

"You're not the kind of girl I'm looking for."

"You'd rather chase after other girls."

"I'd rather chase after other girls."

"This gift will inspire you to look elsewhere." She gave him her come-soaked panties.

"This gift will inspire me to look elsewhere." He put her panties in his book-bag, oblivious to the mess they would make. The lecture had just ended.

"Now run along," she said, taking a cloth out of her purse and cleaning her hands, as well as any come that got on the floor.

"I'll run along now," he said mechanically, then got up and walked out of the classroom.

"Nigrovum made me a Jedi," she said to herself, giggling. She got up and tried to get near Dr. Martin, but a flood of students was crowding him, asking him questions. Waiting for the students to finish with him, she decided to give him a psychic scan: he was divorced, and essentially an agnostic. As for his sexual proclivities, she found nothing unpleasant. He fantasized about anal sex, having never tried it before; he also had a lingerie fetish, and a shit fetish, like Leroy and Holland. He thought Slavic accents sounded sexy on women, blondes being his preference; and he had a thing for old Marilyn Monroe movies. Now she knew what persona to play when with him, the breathless one appropriately named 'Marilyn'. You may be skeptical about God, Dr. Martin, she thought; but I'll bet you have a devout faith in sex goddesses, and you can idolize my poop any day.

A mob of students walked with Dr. Martin out of the classroom and all the way to his office, so Camilla gave up hope of having a chance to be alone with him. Instead, she looked past the crowd of students at him, now sitting at his desk, and eyed him with pursed lips, in her 'Marilyn' persona. Her eyes summoned his to look up from the other students and look at her; when he did look up at her, she pushed out her chest to draw his attention to how her large breasts pushed out of her tight-fitting black sweater. Her whore-bright makeup, including dark blue eye shadow, thick black mascara, pink blush and dark red lipstick, also got him excited. Though he tried to focus on his students' questions, he could 'feel' her psychically telling him, Come see me--every inch of me--at Club Ritz on Friday.

She tried to use Nigrovum to make the other students go away, but she felt a barrier stopping her psychic energy from reaching them; obviously, Father Josiah had set up another force field around her to make her 'behave herself'.

Fine, she thought; when I stop coming to church and start ignoring you, Father, then you'll regret placing these restrictions on me.

*****************

That night in her bedroom, Camilla got out her lap-top and chatted online with Dr. Singh.

"Do you know any more about Nigrovum, Ravinder?" she typed. "Any new discoveries in your research?"

"Not so much with my scientific colleagues, who still dismiss my 'pseudo-scientific' insights as mere religious hogwash," he typed. "But ironically, it's been in my meditations that I've come to learn much. I now can communicate directly with these microscopic black beings in our blood."

"Really? What do they 'say'? Why do they make our desires stronger? Why do they fulfill our wishes?"

"They feed on energy," he explained. "They prefer the energy of thoughts, feelings, and wishes; these forms of energy are like delicious food to Nigrovum. When they feed, instead of crushing and digesting food, as we do, they expand their 'food'. By expanding the energy of your thoughts and desires, Nigrovum makes them grow into reality, thus fulfilling your wishes. This expansion also intensifies emotion."

"I see. That makes a lot of sense. That's how it feels inside my body, when I make my wishes come true--expansion."

"Yes. After these expansions, the tiny black beings reproduce, thus expanding the energy of your urges even more. And thus I urge you, Camilla, desire only what's right and good."

"Sometimes I run out of power. Why is that?"

"When you've eaten enough, you're full. When Nigrovum has expanded enough energy, the ovoid beings are sated, too. They don't need any more energy, they don't want any more, and they won't expand any more. If you stuff yourself with food, you feel uncomfortable; if you stuff Nigrovum with an excess of desires, you become spiritually uncomfortable. Don't stuff them, Camilla: it's dangerous. Don't will things too much, especially not selfish will, which is addictive. Passive, peaceful thoughts are less 'filling' for Nigrovum, so it will feed on them longer; such thoughts are better for you, too, as all religions have taught us."

"Yes. There's truth in religion, too. Not just science, as the atheists think."

"There is no conflict between my Hindu faith and science."

"Nor between my Catholic faith and science."

"Good," Dr. Singh typed. "Practice your faith, and Nigrovum will give you peace. Don't use your power selfishly, I urge you; that will lead you to destruction."

They finished their chat, and not even a minute had passed by before she totally disregarded all of his advice. She went on to Facebook, wanting to chat with Marcel. He'd made no recent posts, as, oddly, he hadn't in about two weeks.

*****************

On Thursday night in her bedroom, Camilla had been trying to use Nigrovum to lure Alex into bed with her, since her father was at Carrie's home for the night. Camilla hadn't made even a nudge in the direction of success. The psychic barrier that Father Josiah had put up around her was an especially thick and strong one. She meditated, focusing as intensely as she could to know the dimensions and strength of the force field. She sensed that he'd sent her a message with the wall: 'THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD.'

*****************

In his home, Father Josiah, with his growing new abilities, psychically monitored what Camilla had been trying to do. You must value monogamy, Camilla, he thought; I won't have you with any men...unless it's with me.

*****************

She was so mad at Josiah that she felt Nigrovum firing up inside her head and making her shake with rage. Knowing the danger of negative emotions, she slowly calmed down and tried to think of a solution to her recent sexual frustrations. She resolved to break through the barrier: she 'chiselled away' at it for the longest time, correctly sensing that this would take a long time. Indeed, the barrier was like a brick wall that was ten feet thick!

As she slowly but surely cut her way through much of it, she thought about her Wednesday class with Alex, the man she so badly wanted to fuck that night. His lecture the day before had been a particularly stimulating one for her, given her proclivities.

He'd lectured about myths of incest, beginning by reminding the class about Zeus marrying his sister, Hera. He also spoke of Uranus, the sky god who married his mother, Gaia, the earth goddess. Another mother/son marriage Alex spoke of was that of Oedipus and Iocasta. This last story reminded her of her lecture with Dr. Martin, and his discussion of the father/daughter relationship that so intrigued her.

Alex also discussed the story of King Cinyras and his daughter, Myrrha, who fell incestuously in love with him. "She, with the aid of her nurse, got him drunk night after night," Alex explained. "Then she lay with him in the dark, and conceived a child by him. Finally, he realized what she'd done, and chased her with a sword. He chased her for nine months, then she was changed into a myrrh tree after praying to the gods to save her. When her baby was due, the tree cracked open, and Adonis was born."

Because of her obvious identification with Myrrha, Camilla had loved this myth best of all. With the alcohol, marijuana, and ecstasy pills, how closely Camilla was imitating Myrrha's schemes, too! Camilla just had to avoid a parallel of the story's unhappy ending, though she wouldn't have minded bearing Agape's child. She was sure Nigrovum could correct any birth defects, as long as Father Josiah didn't interfere.

Yet another myth Alex had discussed in his Wednesday lecture was that of an incestuous relationship between the Hindu creator god, Brahma, and his daughter, Sandhya. "Ashamed of thinking lustful thoughts, Brahma began to sweat," Alex said.

This reminded Camilla of how she'd often seen Agape sweating in recent days, especially after innocently hugging her and pecking her on the cheek. Was there more to those hugs and kisses than mere affection? Oh, how she hoped so! She also thought about Dr. Martin's lecture, in relation to Brahma's sweating. "The unconscious mind houses many taboo, unacceptable thoughts that rarely surface," he said. "There are, indeed, many dark thoughts we all secretly harbour in the deepest recesses of our minds."

She remembered something Candice had once said back in high school, about Camilla's thing for older men, that it was part of an Electra complex. How prophetic Candice's words had been! Nigrovum had made Camilla's unconscious desires surface; maybe Nigrovum could reveal unconscious, incestuous feelings in Agape! Did she dare to make such hopes a reality?

After having chiselled away at that force field for a half hour or so, she assessed her progress: she'd cut only about half way through! She tried again to lure Alex, suggesting he come to her home, but with no success. Then she tried to lure Dr. Lee and Dr. Abruzzi into bed with her--still, no success. That psychic barrier was simply too strong, and she was getting tired. Instead, she turned her thoughts to Agape.

*******************

Her father was at that time making love with Carrie, with her on top of him in the cowgirl position. As she felt his huge cock sliding in and out of her ecstatic MILF pussy, she sighed softly--a far 'cry' from Camilla's screams.

He looked up at Carrie as she bounced up and down on him, noting that she was loving the sex, but without the wildness he'd seen in his living room, or in that 'heavenly mansion', for that matter. Indeed, his own ability to enjoy the sex was somewhat stifled by his concerns about hearing Camilla's screams of pleasure on the night she'd fucked Ted. The real Carrie sighed softly during sex, while the Carrie in his 'dreams' squealed like Camilla!

Was Camilla committing incest with him while he was too drunk and stoned to realize it? Is that why she dyed her hair black, and wore black contact lenses? he wondered. No, it couldn't have been her on top of me; Camilla couldn't do such a thing to her father. She may be messed up, but surely she isn't that messed up. These thoughts, unfortunately, gave him little more than partial reassurance.

*******************

Camilla, in her increasing jealousy, had been psychically scanning their lovemaking all the way from her bedroom. Since she'd had no plans to fuck Agape that night, Josiah's barrier wasn't blocking her now. Wanting to make her lovemaking more comparable to Carrie's--to ease Agape into accepting incest with her--Camilla used Nigrovum to make Carrie scream and squeal more; she also caused Carrie's body--thinner, and with smaller, sagging breasts--to look more like Camilla's, young and full-figured.

*******************

In Carrie's dim bedroom, the temporary metamorphosis of her body from forty-something to teenaged was less abrupt, less surprising, and thus more acceptable to Agape's eyes. If Camilla could make him associate her body more with Carrie's during sex, maybe she could get her father's 'unconscious incestuous feelings' (assuming hopefully that they even existed) to surface.

Carrie bounced faster, and screamed and squealed louder. The sight of this sexually more aggressive version of Carrie indeed eased Agape's worries about Camilla, and now he could enjoy the sex more. He fucked more aggressively, and faster. Though Carrie had quite experienced insides, his large cock filled up her vagina in a way reminiscent of Quentin Tarantino's interpretation of Madonna's song, 'Like a Virgin', though without the pain. Both lovers were nearing orgasm.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" Carrie screamed. "Ah!"

"Unh! Oh!" Agape grunted.

Finally, he came inside her. (He'd had a vasectomy a few years after his divorce from Collette, so she didn't worry about getting pregnant.) He and Carrie lay next to each other, cuddling, as they caught their breath. Camilla removed her psychic alterations to Carrie.

"I love you," he panted.

"I...love you, too," she said. "But I...didn't come yet."

"Oh, sorry," he said. He began rubbing his finger against her hard clitoris.

"Oh," she softly sighed. Her pussy was soaking wet, and after a minute of his tickling, her orgasm oozed onto his fingers. "Oh!..."

"How was that?" he asked.

"Much better," she sighed. "You've grown...so much more passionate...in recent weeks. You used...to be...so uptight about sex. Even afraid of it. Why the change?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I am 'such stuff as dreams are made on.'"

********************

On Friday night, Dr. Martin found himself walking into Club Ritz, not at all understanding what urge was pushing him into the strip joint. Looking around, he saw, at the other side of the bar, a curvaceous sexy blonde: she was like a magnet pulling him to her.

She, of course, was Camilla, standing by a table and chatting with Candice. Camilla was wearing a pink bra and panties, and white high heels that matched some cross-garters she had on, which climbed up from her ankles to her upper legs in sexy Xs, deliberately drawing lecherous attention to her legs. Her face was in her usual colourfully harlot-like makeup.

"Thanks again for shaving my pussy," she said to Candice. "You'll get some good loving tonight for that. I can't wait for my prof to get here. I finally broke through that barrier Josiah had me trapped in. That bastard! He's gonna pay for not letting me get laid."

Silently sympathizing more with Josiah's jealousies than with Camilla's nymphomania, Candice said nothing.

"I put a psychic barrier of my own around him, even thicker than the one he'd put around me, and giving him far less room to use Nigrovum in. That'll teach him to mess with a goddess."

Dr. Martin came up to the girls, and Camilla, feeling his presence, turned around.

"Hi, Dr. Martin," Camilla said in the sexiest voice she could muster, a combination of her breathy 'Marilyn' persona with a reasonably good imitation of Calina's lilting Russian accent and ungrammatical English.

"Hello," he said. "You are a goddess indeed. Aren't you a student of mine?"

"Yes, sir, I am," she purred, looking at him with warm eyes and an inviting smile. "I so enjoyed your lecture on Wednesday."

"Thank you," he said, his huge penis already starting to bulge out of his pants as he ogled her as politely as he could. "You're very beautiful."




Camilla Ch. 075



"Does my body please you, sir?" She turned around for him, happy to let his eyes roam all over her.

"Who doesn't it please?" He stared, with the eyes of a pagan, at how those cross-garters, a fetish of his, adorned her legs.

She giggled softly. "Thank you. I think you handsome, too. Love your English accent. Very sophisticated, very sexy."

"Thank you. I love the sound of your accent, too. What country are you from, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Russia," she lied. Candice got up from the table and went over to the DJ, getting ready for her floor show. "Would you like to see what my body looks like, and what it's like to touch it?" Pursing her lips and opening her eyes wide, Camilla bent down slightly, turning her torso into an S.

"Have lap-dances with you? I'd love to. How much?"

"Twenty dollars a song. Come with me." She took him into a private room. He sat on a couch, and she stood before him.

"You look pretty in pink," he said.

"You like my underwear, sir?" she asked, turning around, bending over slightly, and sticking her arse out, an inch from his face.

"Your underwear? I thought it was a bikini."

"No, they're my panties." Looking back at him with agape eyes and pursed lips, she rotated her soft, round buttocks in clockwise circles as he sniffed, hoping for a faecal smell. She asked, "Do my panties please you, sir?"

"Please me? They mesmerize me," the panty fetishist panted.

"I'm glad you like them." She kept swaying her ass in his face.

"Why are you a stripper, if I may be so bold to ask?"

"Because men like my body, I like men like you, and I like pleasing you. Oh, the pay is good, too."

"Why do you like pleasing men like me?"

"Because I admire you. You're so smart and sophisticated."

"You like intelligent, well-educated men?"

"Oh, yeah. Smart is sexy. Your mind drive me wild."

"Your body drives me wild, my goddess."

"You no atheist?"

"Well, more of an agnostic; but evidence of the divine could persuade me to believe. I think I see it now, goddess."

"You're so sweet," she said, giggling. A new song began.

"And we begin," he sighed in lecherous expectation.

"What you like to see first? Boobs or bum?"

"Your lovely bottom, please."

"Yes, sir." She pulled her panties down, baring her buttocks. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when she showed him her shaved pussy.

"You said we can touch?" he asked.

"Yes. Everything."

"Everything? Your whole body?"

"Yes. I not shy. Touch anything you like. Taste and sniff, too."

Is this a dream? he wondered. "Why are you so permissive?" he asked, gently touching her buttocks and opening them to see her anus.

"I like to please you," she said, then sat on his lap with her back to him. As she rubbed her buttocks against his Tower of Babel of a cock, she removed her bra. He then cupped her soft breasts in his hands and gently fondled them. She was as impressed with his anatomical endowments as he was with hers. As she kept grinding on his cock, she put her right arm around his neck.

"I'm so glad they're real," he said of her breasts, pushing the right one against his face and kissing the skin to the right of her nipple.

"No silicone for me. I no need." She moaned as she looked in his eyes, squinting hers in amazement at the dimensions of his long, thick cock. He had to be at least eight inches in length!

Then she stood up, and he opened her buttocks out wide again, to take another look at her pretty brown asshole. He sniffed it, delighted with the faecal odour. He brought his face right inside her crack and closed her soft butt-cheeks against the sides of his face. He kissed her anal lips as passionately as if they were the red lips on her face. Indeed, this ass was her second face: he kissed and licked those brown lips (or brown eye, if that's the preferred word), and brushed each butt-cheek against his cheeks. He'd hold one buttock wide open so he could see every goose bump and mark on it, as well as kiss and lick her asshole and all the surrounding area; the other buttock he'd push against his cheek to enjoy its softness. Then he'd switch buttocks and do the same with the opposite sides. He wanted to know every millimetre of this part of her body.

Thoroughly indulging his fetish, she thought, Enjoy my stinky sexiness, sir. Even a goddess's poo is divine.

After giving him several more seconds to continue sniffing her all the way up and down her gloriously smelly butt-crack, she turned around and sat on his lap, facing him. He fingered her asshole, first getting to know every wrinkle of the puckered orifice, then gently pushing his finger in several inches. His other hand touched her already very wet vulva, his index finger tickling her hard clit and slipping inside to touch her G-spot. She softly moaned to the touch of his gentle hands.

Then she stood up, bringing her freshly-shaved pussy up to his face. Salivating at the sight, and taking this obvious hint that she wanted to receive cunnilingus from him, he started frantically licking her clitoris, and sucking on her swollen labia. Her soft moans soon changed to squeals. She put her legs up over the couch and around his neck, holding herself up with her hands so her pussy would be reasonably level with his face. With her beautiful wide-open spread inches from his thirsty mouth, he licked and sucked even more gluttonously. As his non-stop licking got faster and faster, his finger kept sliding in and out of her asshole.

Her squeals and screams got louder and faster. Finally, she gushed her orgasm all over his face, much of it going directly inside his wide-open mouth; the rest dripped down the sides of his face and chin.

"Wow!" he sighed, licking his lips.

"Thank you," she sighed, "for giving...me pleasure." She pulled her legs off the back of the couch and stood up. "Now I need to use the toilet. I must pee and poop." She got up and walked over to the toilet.

"These private rooms are amazing," he said, getting up and walking over to the toilet with her. "Do they all have their own beds, lavatories, and showers?" He sniffed the finger he'd had in her ass.

"Yes, they all do," she said, sitting on the toilet. He was standing before her, looking down at her as she looked up at him. She farted audibly without the slightest sign of embarrassment on her face.

"May I watch?" he asked, sniffing the area for flatulence. "I have a rather peculiar taste for coprophilia."

"What's that?" she asked, insouciantly dropping a few turds into the toilet bowl and knowing he was loving every second of it. Then he could see her piss sprinkling down between her wide-open legs.

"It's a love of--well, what you're doing right now."

"Oh," she said, still pooping and peeing, and looking up at him without any embarrassment. She'd curved her torso into a sexy S on the toilet seat; looking down at her, he fetishistically adored how her soft, milky skin, pretty blonde hair, whore-bright makeup, high heels and ornate, white cross-garters were juxtaposed against the smells of nature coming from below.

Finally, she finished and reached for the toilet paper.

"Oh, may I do the honours?" he asked.

"You want clean me?" she asked, as though there was nothing at all bizarre about it.

"Yes, please. May I?"

"OK," she said, then got off the toilet, flushing it. She got on the floor on all fours, spreading her legs out wide and pushing out her ass so her muddy asshole was in plain view. He rolled up the toilet paper and began wiping the brown off her asshole, replacing the sight of dark brown filth with that of light brown wrinkles on her ass-lips. Then he took some more toilet paper and wiped her vulva dry of piss. After allowing him to sniff the sexy stink of her butt for a few seconds, she stood up. "Since you like my anus so much, you want put your phallus in it?"

"Oh, yes. How much?"

"For free."

"Really? Why?"

"Because you give me oral pleasure, make me come. I want be nice to you now, sir. Please clean me first." She went over to the shower stall, and he followed her.

"OK, but please don't take off your cross-garters or heels. They look so sexy to me."

"OK," she said, spreading her legs out wide, bending over, and pushing her ass out so he could see her asshole and pussy clearly. He held the shower nozzle in his hand and aimed it at her holes, careful not to get her cross-garters or shoes wet. He soaped up his hands and thoroughly covered all her vaginal and rectal walls with the lather before rinsing.

After drying her off with a nearby towel, they went over to the bed. She got on it on all fours, spreading her legs wide and pushing her ass out in her usual way. She took her anal lube out of her purse and gave it to him. He pulled down his pants and underwear, lubed his hard cock and her rectum, then began sliding it in.

When he got a third of the way in, he grunted with delight. "Unh! This...is incredible!"

Looking back at him, she sighed, "I'm glad...you like. Oh!" Her eyes squinted and her mouth was wide open in amazement at the size of his cock.

He pushed his cock in another third of the way. "How did...I get...to be...so lucky! Oh!" What tightness!

She looked back at him, moaning her welcome of his cock inside its new temporary place of residence. Finally, he got all the way in. Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets, so astonished was she at how huge his member was, and how it delightfully stretched her anal walls in all directions. Would he rip her in half? If so, she might have enjoyed it. As he kept pumping inside her, she thrilled at the mere thought of how good he would feel inside her tingling pussy!

He continued sliding his cock in and out, in and out, for several more minutes. "I'm gonna come," he groaned.

"OK, pull it out," she sighed. He gently and slowly pulled his cock out. "Now...spray on...my ass." She reached back and took his cock in her hand.

"This is...the best sexual experience...of my life," he moaned as she jerked him off. "Ah!" He squirted his come on her left buttock, then along her butt-crack, some dripping a little inside her anal orifice, then on her right buttock, and finally on left side of her butt-crack, just to the left of her gaping asshole. Indeed, that gaping looked like a gasp of astonishment she'd felt in reaction to how gigantic his cock felt in her ass.

After a minute or so of regaining his breath, he pulled up his pants and underwear, and zipped himself up. Then he got out his money and paid for the lap dances.

"Thank you," she said, putting the money in her purse. "You give me so much pleasure tonight."

"I gave you so much pleasure?" he asked. "The pleasure was all mine, really. I hope it won't be the last time." He walked toward the way out.

"I know where your office is at York--don't worry." Then he was gone.

*******************

On Saturday night, Camilla hadn't pursued any other men because she'd been tempted to fuck her dad; still, she resisted, worrying about pressing her luck. She'd have him again, but only after she'd made sure Father Josiah couldn't interfere. Besides, she had too much reading to do in preparation for the next week's classes.

Wanting an incubus fuck, she very negligently set up the psychic barriers before going to sleep. In her dreams, she had a new visitor: Bob's incubus.

She was in the burning mansion as usual, lying on her back on the floor in a room on the ground floor. Bob suddenly got on top of her and slid his cock inside her pussy.

Squealing from the pleasure of feeling his cock filling her up, she looked up at his face. Shocked at who he was, she asked in moans, "You died?"

"Yeah, of despair...in prison," he panted, angrily thrusting away. "You...put something alien...in my blood. It's you fault...I committed those crimes."

"You can't hold...me responsible!" she screamed, as much from indignation as from pleasure. "Ah! Nigrovum didn't...make you do...anything you...didn't already want...to do in...your subconscious. Oh!"

"Now I'm here...in hell. You're coming down, too. One day, sooner or later. Unh! You will! For eternity. Limitless. Boundless. Like the ocean. Fucking will be...the only pleasure...you ever have. Oh!"

They came, and lay there.

The atheists are wrong, she thought; there is a God, and there is an afterlife. I'm just not sure if I'm gonna like it.

She looked out around her, and saw the masked Satanists watching her and laughing with those grotesque, distorted voices. She also saw her mother watching, and frowning.



Camilla Ch. 076



Agape went to church all disappointed that Camilla said she wasn't feeling well enough to accompany him; actually, she was still mad at Father Josiah for interfering with her sex life, and she wanted to punish him not only with the psychic barrier she'd put tightly around him, but also by not letting the priest see her at Mass--she being the girl who was the object of his sinful passions. That barrier still had him well contained, for though he'd been trying very hard to break through it, he was nowhere even close to succeeding just yet.

Feeling safe knowing that the priest, in his jealousy, wouldn't thwart her for quite a while at least, she began to feel her incestuous temptations again. Still, she was somewhat hesitant about fucking Agape again, knowing that her father was also getting better at using Nigrovum. Since he could turn off his hangovers instantaneously in the morning, he was potentially good enough to frustrate her gratification at night. She figured more drugs would be necessary to weaken his resistance: perhaps getting some ketamine from Candice would help; she'd ask her friend for some the next time they got together.

In her bedroom with her laptop out, Camilla chatted online with Dr. Singh.

"How is everyone in Vancouver, Ravinder?" she typed.

"Not well at your school," Dr. Singh typed.

"What's wrong?"

"Some classes there went on a field trip four days ago to the Grouse Grind, not too far from where that mansion was. There were three buses going there, each with a class taught by Mr. Grisham, Ms. Callahan, and Mr. Langella. When I learned from the news that all three buses mysteriously lost control and crashed, killing several people, including all three teachers, I remembered you included the teachers' names in your list of lovers."

"Grisham and Langella dead? Oh, my God!"

"I used Nigrovum to scan the accident scene for psychic activity, and I learned that the teachers had secret sexual passions for a pretty, nubile girl on each bus. These girls were sitting near where the drivers were, and the teachers suddenly attacked the girls, trying to rape them. Blouses were torn open, and the girls screamed for help. The drivers were distracted by all the noise, at a time when the buses were going along roads that are particularly difficult to drive on. Then they lost control, and crashed."

"Oh, no," Camilla typed.

"Oh, yes. As we know, Nigrovum intensifies the energy that's already there. When you passed it on to those teachers, you gave them the energy of your sexual appetite. That's why you must cool your desire, Camilla, so this won't happen any more. There have been too many deaths already."

Annoyed, Camilla typed, "Are you saying those attempted rapes were all my fault?"

"No, far from it," Singh typed. "Don't be offended. In fact, I'd say the whole accident, including the rapes, was caused by a source right here in the Vancouver area, not by you. We must remember the close proximity of the crashes to the site of the burned-down mansion, where I'm sure much of the psychic energy of the masked Satanists still is. Since their semen was repeatedly being sprinkled on the grass there in their bizarre rituals, grass covered in Nigrovum that they knew about as well as we do, I'd say the ghosts of those Satanists channelled your teachers' lust to explode at a perfectly coordinated time."

"Why would they do that?"

"By killing your teachers, the Satanist incubi--who've been haunting you in your dreams--have added Grisham, Langella, and Callahan to an army of ghosts they are raising."

"This is getting TOO weird for me, Ravinder."

"I know, but the Nigrovum I'm communicating with have been telling me this: this army of ghosts will help the Satanists realize their ultimate, diabolical dreams."

"You said before that Nigrovum can drive people crazy? How can you know for sure it isn't driving you crazy? Sorry, but your story sounds a little over-the-top to me."

"Unlike you, Camilla, I'm at total peace. No incubi have threatened me in my sleep, I have no sexual obsessions, nor any violent thoughts, as you've had. I wouldn't be telling you this if I had the slightest doubt there was any danger."

"OK, what are the 'diabolical dreams' of these Satanists?" she typed.

"Don't you remember what I told you about the Satanists' book that was found in the burnt remains of the mansion?"

"Oh yeah, they wanted to spread Nigrovum around the world, making everyone a slave to lust."

"In weakening everyone's will that way, they'd easily take over all the world governments, the banks, the media, everything."

He's getting paranoid, she thought. She typed, "OK, but aren't the Satanists all dead?"

"Not all of them; they have secret societies in countries worldwide, and the incubi of those killed still have power and influence. As you know, they visit you in your dreams, and as we've seen, they can kill. Haven't you known any ghosts that could interfere with the living, and kill them?"

Remembering how Mrs. Holland had killed Miles in his dream, she nonetheless chose not to mention it. "What can I do?" she typed.

"Restrain your promiscuity, I beg of you," Ravinder advised. "No more new lovers. As for those you've already been with, convince them to pursue a spiritually nourishing life, as I hope you are doing. With every new person you pass your lustful Nigrovum energy onto, that's potentially a new soldier for this army I was telling you about. I know what I'm saying sounds far-fetched, but the microscopic black beings in our blood don't lie. They've told me everything I'm telling you about now. It makes no difference to them whether we destroy ourselves or not, for the universe will always carry on; but it does to me, as it should to you. Please control your urges; it's for your own good."

Convinced Dr. Singh was going crazy, and remembering Josiah's meddling, she then typed, "You're not going to use Nigrovum to restrain me, are you?"

"No, no," Singh assured her. "I don't believe in interfering with free will. I've used Nigrovum on you only to help you out of your despair and fear."

Good, Camilla thought; as long as you, Ravinder, don't put psychic barriers around me, I won't have to put any around you, as I did Josiah. "Thanks for all your advice, Ravinder. I think I'll sign off now. Bye."

"Bye," he typed.

"A Satanic army? You're nuts, Dr. Singh," she said after going offline.

*****************

On Monday, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Camilla went to Dr. Martin's office; a few sexual encounters with him would keep her satisfied for the while, before risking another encounter with her father. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress and matching high heels. The dress showed off a generous amount of cleavage, and it went down only half-way between her thighs and knees. With those clothes, her jacket, and her whorish bright makeup, she had nothing else on.

Dr. Martin has already been exposed to Nigrovum, she thought as she got to his door; so even if what kooky Singh says is true, it's too late for my skeptic prof. She went in and locked the door behind her.

"Hi," he said, getting up from his chair.

"Oh, don't get up, sir," she said in the voice of her new persona, 'Anna', a combination of her breathy 'Marilyn' and imitation of Calina's Russian accent and ungrammatical English. "I had to see you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Your phallus so big. When you give me anal sex at Club Ritz, I so amazed. My eyes and mouth wide open."

"Among other things," he said, ogling her behind.

Giggling, she said, "Yes. I want feel your phallus in my vagina. Can you give me pleasure? Please, sir?"

"Uh, right here?" he asked, trembling with excitement.

"Oh, no. I scream too loud," she answered, worrying that Josiah would break free of his psychic barrier and cancel out her psychic abilities to block out her screams. "At your home tonight?"

"Well, tomorrow night would be better. I'll be too busy tonight grading essays."

"Can I please you now?"

"Well, if it's quiet and quick."

"I'm naked under my dress; you want me take it off?"

"Oh, yes," he panted.

She unzipped her dress at the back and dropped it on the floor. He was practically drooling at the delicious sight of her freshly-shaved pubic region. Knowing he liked high heels, she kept her elegant black shoes on. Standing right in front of him, she turned around, spread her legs out wide and bent over so he could see her brown asshole and pink pussy.

She looked back at him upside down from between her legs and said, "I left myself natural smelling for you."

"Just the way I like it," the coprophiliac prof said, sniffing her faecal-smelling asshole. He was fully erect, and he pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

She got on the floor on all fours, spreading her legs wide open and pushing out her butt so her asshole was in plain view. She got her tube of anal lube out of her purse and gave it to him. He lubed his huge cock and her rectum thoroughly, then he pushed the tip of his dick against her anus. She looked back at him, squinting her eyes and sighing as he slowly slid it in her ass.

As he pumped away, she had that same amazed expression as before, her eyes and mouth as wide open as her asshole. He kept pushing in and pulling out, grunting with pleasure. He reached forward and fondled her breasts as he fucked her.

Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. "Is everything OK in there?" a woman asked. "I heard moaning."

"I'm...doing push-ups," he groaned.

"Oh, OK," the woman said, hardly believing what she'd heard, and left.

Camilla fingered her clitoris as she felt that gigantic cock probing her rectal depths. Her pussy was as wet with excitement as her asshole was lubed. Soon, she psychically could sense that he was about to come. "You pull...out now," she moaned. "I...swallow come...in mouth."

He pulled his cock out and stood up. She turned around with her eyes closed; she didn't want to see his impressive member until Tuesday night, when she'd feel it in her pussy--seeing it now would just make her all the more impatient for her date at his home. She, on her knees before him, jerked him off with his cock pointed at her wide-open mouth. She used Nigrovum to aim his cock properly. He shot every blast of his come right in her mouth; she felt it ricochet off her uvula, her tongue, and the roof and walls of her mouth. She hadn't missed a drop.

He just looked down at her in amazement at her talents.

"So," Camilla panted. "Tomorrow night...at your house?"

"Yes," he sighed. "About 7 PM...will do it. Here's my card. It has my address...on it." He gave it to her.

"You live...near here," she said. "How convenient. I can just walk...from school."

"Yeah, convenient."

******************

That Tuesday night, Camilla hurried along the sidewalk on the neighbourhood leading to Dr. Martin's house.

"Please give me some good loving tonight, sir," she said. "I'm not ready to risk another fuck with Daddy...just yet."

Knowing Dr. Martin liked lingerie, she wore those ornate white cross-garters she'd had on at Club Ritz when she gave him lap-dances on Friday. She also wore a white dress and matching high heels. Her hair, still blonde for him, was done up in a bun, and she wore thick black mascara and dark blue eye shadow to complement her Nigrovum-blue eyes; she also had pink blush and bright red lipstick on. The pretty perfume on her neck would complement the natural smells he'd enjoy between her buttocks.

She rang the doorbell, and he hastened to open it.

"You look ravishing," he said. "Please come in."

"Thank you, sir," she said as she walked in. He took her jacket and led her to the dining room.

"Dinner will be ready in a few seconds," he said as he walked into the kitchen to get it. "Your timing is flawless."

I came by with a little help from my friends, she thought; my tiny black ovoid friends--they keep me on time.

He came back with the dish: chicken cacciatore.

"Oh, that looks good," she said as he put some on her plate.

"Bon appétit," he said after putting some on his plate. Then they began eating. "Now one thing I don't quite understand: how does a girl, as young and lovely as you are, fancy a man as old and grey as I am?"

"I admire you," she said, still in her 'Anna' persona, with her ungrammatical English and faux Russian accent. "I like older men."

"That's all?"

"I think you handsome, sophisticated. I like your English accent."

"But I'm approaching sixty, my dear."

"You remind me Richard Dawkins."

"You find him attractive?" he asked, still incredulous. "He's in his seventies now."

"His face, his voice, his intelligence, yes. Even though atheist."

"You don't like religious skeptics?"

"They make me uncomfortable: I'm Catholic, though I doubt."

"I doubt, too," he said. "I'm an agnostic, and no lover of the Church, I'm afraid."

"Oh?" she asked with a frown.

"I'm afraid I agree with Freud that belief in God comes from a yearning for the father. Churches exploit this yearning, as do synagogues and mosques."

"I love my daddy, yearn for him."

"That's sweet."

"But I don't like the priest at my church. He restrict my freedom."

"Of course he does, that's what all priests and rabbis do. That's how they keep their power over you. I'm an evangelist of doubting, if you will. I spread the gospel of skepticism every chance I get, happily winning new converts almost every day during my York lectures. My lectures are my sermons. I must agree with Richard Dawkins that organized religion isn't good for society. Religion isn't good for one's mental health; it's all one big delusion that drives men mad."

Remembering Dr. Singh's recent 'madness', she then said, "I don't go to church last Sunday."

"You shouldn't go to church any Sunday. Never go, Camilla. It's bad for you: its hypocritical, sanctimonious morality will only cause you needless guilt and anxiety. You don't need that; be free to live your own life. Enjoy yourself."

"I do," she said, convinced of his logic. "I don't go church anymore."

"Good," he said. "I say we cannot know if there is a God until He shows Himself. I could be persuaded to believe in goddesses, though."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I see one sitting with me now."

She giggled. "Thank you. You so sweet."

"Indeed, I consider your whole body sacred, even the cruder-smelling areas, as you must know by now. Like a pagan, I want to fetish every inch of you."

"I stay natural smelling for you tonight, sir."

"Thank you, dear. One cannot appreciate a goddess's divinity if one doesn't appreciate her dirtier areas--that's how I feel."

He's Leroy, all over again, she thought.

After dinner, they went upstairs to his bedroom. She removed her dress, revealing her white lace bra and panties. The coprophiliac squatted down, put his face against her buttocks, sniffing and nibbling on her underwear.

She took off her bra as he sniffed and nibbled; she also slowly moved her buttocks in a clock-wise motion against his face. He loved the feeling of her anal cleft and gluteal sulcus rubbing against his nose and lips. Yes, sir, she thought; worship my divine body, and I'll worship your sacred mind. My cruder-smelling parts should be adored: after all, I am a goddess.

He pulled down her panties; as he helped her get her still-shod feet through the panties' leg-holes, she opened her buttocks so he could see and smell her bronze, faecal-smelling asshole. He kissed and licked her asshole, and she closed her soft buttocks around his face. She continued opening and closing her butt-cheeks as he kissed and licked. After kissing her all the way up and down her butt-crack several times, he took off his pants and underwear. She lay on her back on the bed.

When he climbed on top of her, ironically in the missionary position, she saw his huge erection for the first time. Her eyes and mouth were as agape as they had been when she'd received anal from him. Now she'd feel that beautiful tower of power in her quivering pussy! She pulled her bent legs up to receive him.

He slowly slid it in: she was already screaming in ecstasy. Its thickness gave her G-spot such buzzes of pleasure that she came when he was only half-way in. When he went all the way in and poked her A-spot, she came again.

Her whistle-register screams were deafening, but he didn't let that stop him from thrusting away. He was amazed that such a sexy young tart could find an old man like him attractive, and his cock was the hardest it had been in decades, thanks to this goddess! He was a pilgrim, worshipping in her Holy of Holies. His bedsheets were already soaking with her come after only ten seconds of fucking, for she'd come a third time. He fondled her tits as he fucked, gently squeezing them and pinching the nipples. Her jaw was sore from always being stretched open with screaming.

"Am I...pleasing you, dear?" he panted.

"Oh, yes!" she squealed. "So big! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

"You're so...inspiring of...bigness, divine darling. Unh!"

She came a fourth time, then began to sense psychically that he was about to ejaculate.

"Come on...my face," she said in shaky, high-pitched squeals. "Ah!"

"OK," he sighed, and slowly pulled his cock out. She sighed with the vibrato of a soprano as his hugeness slid out, tickling her G-spot.

She got off the bed, and he sat on the side, with her kneeling between his legs. His cock was too big and thick to go in her mouth without discomfort, so she simply pointed it at her face and jerked him off. Her hand slid along the length of his shaft four times before he ejaculated on her nose, her left eye, her lips, and her right cheek.

Looking up at him with his come dripping off her face, she asked, "Do I...please you, sir?"

"Yes, of course, my dear," he said, again looking down at her in awe of her sexual gifts. "Did you...enjoy that, goddess?"

She grinned and giggled her answer. This incredible lay certainly would tide her over until her next incestuous moment with Agape, which she'd be able to hold off for at least a night or two.

*********************

On Wednesday, Camilla was disappointed and concerned to see a plain-looking, thin female prof with short hair substituting for Alex in her world mythology class.

"Everybody, I have a sad announcement to make," the professor said. "Dr. Alex McVie...died last weekend from causes I'd rather not go into right now. I am Dr. Sorensen, and I'll be teaching his class from now on."

Camilla shook with fear at this news. I'll let his incubus fuck me tonight, she thought; then I'll find out what happened to him.

"Today I'll be discussing myths about the Great Goddess," Dr. Sorensen continued.

"Good," a girl sitting behind Camilla said. "I'm sick of all of McVie's patriarchal myths. What a misogynist."

Camilla just rolled her eyes.

*********************

That night in bed, Camilla left herself open to incubi, both in lecherous expectation of a spiritual gang bang, and out of a remorseful wish to be punished for adding to that 'army' of incubi. For however much she tried to convince herself that Dr. Singh was crazy to have said what he had said during their last online chat, her hellish dreams and devilish visitors at night were making such convincing difficult.

The incubi of Alex, Grisham, and Langella arrived almost immediately in the burning mansion. She was naked, and on all fours. Alex swept under her, putting his cock in her pussy. Mr. Grisham stood before her and put his cock in her mouth. Mr. Langella was kneeling behind her ass, and slid his cock in her asshole.




Camilla Ch. 076



As all three incubi were fucking her three holes, she looked up at Mr. Grisham, gleefully letting his cock slide in and out of her mouth. His face, already similar-looking to her father's, often changed into Agape's face, then back to Grisham's again. Though these transformations aroused her and made her want her father all the more, she couldn't stop feeling guilty about what had happened to those three teachers.

She pulled Grisham's cock out of her mouth with a popping sound, then said, "I'm...so sorry...about what happened. Ah!" She put his cock back in her mouth and sucked away again.

"It wasn't...your fault," Grisham said in sighs. "The masked men got...us horny...on the buses. Unh!"

She could hear the grotesque laughing of the masked Satanists, who were standing in a circle surrounding the four lovers.

"Don't be...scared of...us, Camilla," Langella said in grunts as he ass-fucked her. "Fear...the masks. Oh!"

"I'm not...so forgiving, Camilla," Alex moaned as he fucked her come-drenched pussy. "You ruined...my marriage. You whore! My wife, whom I...love dearly, found out...about you...and me, and left me. I killed myself...two days...later. Ah!"

She took Grisham's cock out of her mouth. "Sorry," she said. "Oh!" She resumed sucking his cock.

"I wish...my cock could...hurt you...as much as...you hurt me," Alex continued. "Unh!"

"Oh, lighten up," Grisham panted. "She's suffered, too."

"Let's all...just have...some fun," Langella groaned. Ah!"

Finally, Grisham came on her face, Alex withdrew and shot his load on her belly, and Langella withdrew, spewing all over her buttocks. The three incubi then disappeared. Ms. Callahan and the masked Satanists all closed in on Camilla, looking down at her trembling naked body, which lay on her side in a fetal position.

"Everything that went around," Callahan hissed, "will come around, Camilla. You'll see. Oh, you'll try to put it off as long as you can, but it will come around. We'll be waiting for you to join us." The masked men continued their cruel distorted laughter as they stared at Camilla.

Camilla woke up, on all fours on her bed, and drenched in enough sweat to equal the come on her face in the dream. Her sheets were soaking in much more of her ejaculations, though. "I may not believe in the Church anymore," she said to herself. "But I still believe in Hell."

************************

On Thursday night in her bedroom, Camilla thought about her dream the night before. She had been shaking from it all day. Yet while she was scared, she still had her desires, which were like a drug addiction that demanded satisfaction. She had to figure out a way to rationalize enjoying herself in the bedroom in spite of those dreams.

She thought, Are those dreams really the dreams of Hell, or are they just figments of my imagination? The incubi may be real, but that doesn't necessarily mean the afterlife will be as bad as what I keep on seeing. Maybe the incubi are lying to me. Maybe my being scared is exactly what some of them want. Grisham and Langella aren't mad at me; neither are Miles, Larre, and Davis. I had fun with them, and now I want to have some fun with Daddy.

Indeed, she couldn't hold back from committing incest with Agape any longer. Her hair and eyes were back to black, her skin was Goth pale again, and she'd used Nigrovum to make her black pubic hair grow back quickly. She went downstairs.

She saw her drunk father get up and leave the living room to use the washroom; his empty bourbon glass was on the table by his chair. She took it into the kitchen, fixed him another bourbon, and mixed in a whole pill of ecstasy this time, hoping the stronger dose would make it harder for him to resist her mind-controlling powers.

She took the glass back into the living room and put it on the table by his chair. She then left the living room, hid in the kitchen, and watched him stagger back to his chair before sneaking into the washroom he'd just left. She'd opted for a different strategy this time: instead of openly smoking dope with him until the E kicked in, she decided to let him believe she wasn't with him at all that night. This, she hoped, would make him less suspicious.

"What the...?" he slurred when he saw his glass filled with bourbon. "Camilla? Did you fill my glass for me? Camilla?" He heard no answer. That's odd, he thought; I thought it was empty. I must be so drunk I forgot I refilled it. He sat down and started drinking.

Over the next thirty minutes, Camilla, still in the washroom, meditated and checked the psychic barriers she'd put around Father Josiah. He'd broken through a third of the way; she assumed that if he'd only gotten that far in almost a week of mental 'chiselling', she didn't need to worry about him interfering that night.

Sensing that Agape was now feeling the effects of the ecstasy, she used Nigrovum to make herself look like Carrie again, and to make him doze off temporarily. Indeed, he was peaking on the E, fidgeting in his psychically induced sleep.

That should make it harder for you to resist my power, Daddy, she thought.

She went into the living room, gently took him by the hands and got him off his chair. She lay him on his back on the living room floor. Then she got naked and got on top of him in the 69 position.

She visualized his 'dream' to be in the same hotel room where she'd fucked Father Josiah. She woke her father up. He looked up and saw his daughter's pussy in his face.

"Wh-what the...?" he asked. "Where am I?"

"In a hotel, with me," she said in Carrie's voice. "Let's make love." She unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and started masturbating him.

"Oh, OK, honey," he said, raising his head and sticking his tongue out. Unlike with Dr. Martin, she was clean and fresh-smelling.

She psychically got him hard fast, then put his cock in her mouth. She greedily slid her wet lips up and down his shaft, her upper lip tightly hugging his bulging corpus spongiosum and her tongue tickling the other side.

He licked his daughter's pussy in a most uninspired way; to make it better for her, she decided to control his tongue, making him lick her in a way that would drive her wild. He was shocked to find his tongue seem to have a mind of its own--it had never vibrated that quickly before! He sucked on her clitoris tightly, flickering his tongue on it. What was making him do this?

Now she was moaning loudly, and she gently shook his balls with her right hand as her head went up and down on the phallus that gave her life. She deep-throated him, delighting in the feeling of his knob going down so far inside her body. Her nose brushed against and tickled his scrotum.

He wrapped his lips around her left labium, sucking on it as vigorously as he had her clit. Again, he didn't understand what power was making him do this, but he was too stoned to have the will-power to take charge of his own mouth. He switched to her right labium, and his finger went inside her pussy, rubbing against her G-spot. Her moans and squeals were getting louder and more high-pitched.

Oh, Daddy, she thought as she continued deep-throating his cock, I love you so much. Please don't be mad at me when you finally find out what I've been doing. I only want to please you; I don't want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt any of my lovers: Mr. Grisham, Mr. Hanson, Mr. Langella, Dr. McVie, or Miles or Dr. Davis. I especially don't wanna hurt you, Daddy. Why can't we be lovers, Daddy? If you become an incubus, I hope we can love each other in the underworld. I only want to give you the boundless happiness you give me! Oh, accept me as your lover, and give up Carrie!

He took his finger out of her cunt and fingered her asshole with it. He put his tongue inside her vagina, reaching for her G-spot. After a few seconds of that, he started licking her asshole. Why was he doing such a thing? He never thought of the anus as a sexual area. What was controlling his mouth and hands?

Both of them were approaching orgasm, as she'd been synchronizing them with Nigrovum. Then they sensed a disturbance that would have answered Agape's questions with the most shocking candour.

She could feel Father Josiah's interfering presence: he'd broken through the barriers!

How'd he do that so fast? she thought, pulling Agape's cock out of her mouth with a popping sound.

Agape suddenly regained control of his mouth and hands; he immediately stopped fingering and tasting her, and looked around, seeing his living room. He could feel himself sobering up, thanks to some kind of external help that he psychically sensed was the priest's, but couldn't understand why Josiah would be involved. And whose cunt was in his face? Why was he licking her like that? "What the hell?" he asked.

Camilla had to act fast. She visualized a huge fist punching Josiah across the length of a room in his home, knocking him out cold. It worked. Now Agape felt drunk and stoned again, since Josiah's psychic assistance was gone. She quickly restored Agape's 'dream' in the hotel with Carrie, and he and 'Carrie' resumed their 69 position. Camilla resumed control of her father's mouth and fingers.

Fortunately, their level of horniness hadn't come down all that far since their interruption. She put his cock back in her mouth, and went up and down on it with frantic speed. He was licking and sucking on her clitoris again, and he put his finger a few inches inside her asshole, rubbing it against the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall.

She had to make them come quickly, for fear of Josiah coming to and interfering again. She psychically raised her and her father's excitement level to synchronize quick ejaculations. He came in her mouth, and she psychically made him open wide to receive all of her cooze. He gulped down her whole waterfall, not missing a drop.

She made him doze off again, grabbed her clothes, and rushed back into the washroom to get dressed and meditate.

She set up a new psychic barrier for Father Josiah, like a coffin that had him buried six feet underground; it was tight and dense--thicker and more impregnable than the last one. "That'll hold you, you meddling bastard!" she said. "Dr. Martin's right: the damn Church is repressive." Josiah can sit and stew, she thought; He'll still be able to live his normal priest's life, but he won't be using Nigrovum for a very, very long time! That's what he gets for being jealous of my happiness!

She went out and saw her father lying on the floor, fidgeting from the E. He'd woken up of his own power, and his dick was still out! She'd forgotten to zip him up!

"Wh-why is my...?" he said in embarrassment, quickly putting it back in his pants and zipping them up.

"Oh, uh," she stammered. "You'd been sleeping. You must've wanted to get up and pee, but were too drunk to know what you were doing."

"I-I guess so," he said, getting up.

"Go to the bathroom, Daddy. I'll fix you another drink."

He staggered into the washroom. As he peed, he thought, I can mentally turn off my hangovers: is she mentally turning me on? No, it couldn't be. My own daughter wouldn't do that to me.

He didn't find his attempts at reassurance very effective, but he still had to make those attempts.



Camilla Ch. 077



On Friday night after Club Ritz closed, Camilla and Candice were walking out in the parking lot behind the strip joint, on their way to Candice's car. Since Camilla, in her skin-tight black outfit and matching high heels, hadn't shared Candice's bed in two weeks, she chose to sacrifice going home with a man for the sake of her lonely friend's pussy. Candice was wearing a shimmering crimson evening gown, black underwear, and black high heels. Both girls were brightly made up, as usual, and had their Nigrovum-black hair, eyes, and pale skin--their Nigrovum-inspired 'Goth girl' look.

Suddenly, five men appeared from several hiding places behind the cars. No one else was in the parking area, so it was safe for the men to attack. The leader of the men was Sam, who was still resentful about how Camilla had snubbed her during their dates. With him were three young white customers who'd each enjoyed many lap-dances from Camilla that night, but weren't given a chance to sleep with her. The fifth man was her classmate in Dr. Martin's class, the one she gave her come-soaked panties to and used Nigrovum to stop him from pursuing her. The men surrounded the girls.

"What do you creeps want?" Candice demanded in an angry voice that failed to hide her fear.

"What do you think we want?" Sam asked. "You girls are lookin' delicious tonight--yum, yum."

"Yeah," said Camilla's classmate. "I love how that black outfit hugs those titties and ass."

"And you with the red dress on," said one of the other three men. "I'm gonna tear that thing off and fuck you till next week."

"Camilla?" Candice whispered in terror.

"I've got this," Camilla said, already concentrating, summoning the psychic power of Nigrovum to her aid. "Don't worry." She could feel it vibrating throughout her body, getting her every muscle ready.

The men started slowly closing in on the girls. "You've got this," her classmate said, pointing at her camel-toe, which was well-lit by a nearby streetlight. "And we wanna have this."

Camilla could have visualized those tiny stars shining in the men's ears, deafening them with that piercing ringing sound, and bringing them to their knees, as she had done to Mrs. Holland in her husband's office washroom. Or Camila could have used her psychic powers to get each man's cock and balls in a tight death grip, as she'd done with gossipy Tom in that same office. But that would have been ridiculously easy.

Instead, Camilla wanted to see if Nigrovum could improve her abilities at tae kwon do. She kicked off her high heels.

Quickly and intensely, she focused her visualization on the fight scene in Iron Man 2, when Black Widow took out a group of male attackers. In her skin-tight black suit, and given the situation she and Candice were in, Camilla didn't need to use very much imagination.

"Why are your eyes closed, Camil?" Candice said in terror.

"'Cause she's scared," Sam said. "She can't look."

Camilla's classmate was the first to attack: when he got to her, she opened her eyes and gave him a low roundhouse kick inside, hitting him sharply in the balls. He fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

Then Sam came at her, while the other three men grabbed Candice and pulled her dress off.

"Camilla! Help!" she yelled.

"Just a minute," Camilla said, feeling the Nigrovum flowing through her, even taking control of her body. Never taking her eyes off of Sam, she asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"This is for givin' me the cold shoulder, two dates in a row," he said. "This is the big payback!"

"You're not my type. Sorry," she said, throwing a kick that Sam dodged.

"You too slow, bitch," he said. "You may know karate, but I know c-razy!" He grabbed her by the left shoulder, ripping her outfit down almost to her tit.

"Sorry, James Brown, no payback for you," she said, giving him a front kick in the chest and making him fly into a wall--he was knocked out. He hadn't let go of her outfit's material, so it ripped off, revealing her left tit. "Fuck! I liked this outfit. Now I have to buy a new one."

Her classmate got up and licked his lips at her exposed tit. Remembering her wicked kick, though, he chickened out and ran away.

"If you want pussy, look in the mirror," she yelled.

"Camilla!" Candice screamed.

"Coming," Camilla said, running to the three men on Candice, whose black panties were being pulled down her kicking legs.

Camilla reached the guy pulling down her panties and gave him a semi-circular roundhouse kick in the gut, knocking him to the ground. The other two men, startled by her surprising abilities as a fighter, let go of Candice, turned around, and faced Camilla.

That first of the three men knew a bit of martial arts, too, and he got up and tried kicking her in the torso: she blocked his leg with a single forearm block; then he tried throwing a punch--she deflected that with a palm block. Immediately after that, she kicked him in the balls, making him buckle to the ground.

The last two, remembering the sweetness of the exposed tit that they had enjoyed fondling just a half hour before in one of Club Ritz's private rooms, ran at her. She jumped up with a scissor kick, hitting them both in the face and knocking them to the ground. When she did the kick, her tights split all along where her pussy and ass-crack were. All her yummy parts were exposed, except her right tit.

Candice had put her clothes back on by now, and she got out her keys and ran to her car. "C'mon, Camil," she yelled. "Let's get outta here before they come to!"

Camilla grabbed her shoes and purse, and ran to the car. She got in just as Candice was starting the engine, and they drove away.

"My hero," Candice said with shaking hands on the steering wheel, but feeling both relieved and very horny. "My superhero."

"My pleasure," Camilla said. "Though I'm gonna have to buy a new set of black tights. Fuck!"

"I think you look kinda hot that way, actually," Candice said. As they went down a lonely road, she took a quick look down at Camilla's crotch. "Ooh, look at that yummy pussy. I'm glad I shaved it for you this afternoon."

"Do you think I should wear this outfit onstage, all ripped and everything?"

"Sure. You'll drive everybody wild; I'm getting wet just looking at you. Let's just hope you don't have to fight off any more guys like you did tonight. You sure gave those guys a licking, and you're getting one as soon as we get in my bedroom." Candice licked her lips. "I knew you'd had some more tae kwon do lessons last July, in case those Satanists attacked us again; but how'd you get so good at it so quickly?"

"Nigrovum, of course. I can't believe I actually did a scissor kick; that's an advanced move. I've only seen people do that in movies, and I did it perfectly on my first try. Nigrovum can make me do anything: it's made me a fuckin' goddess!" Camilla's hair was all dishevelled again, not so much from the fight, but from the Nigrovum. She also had that wild-eyed look, the one she'd had after attacking Mrs. Holland.

"Don't let yourself get overcome with your own power, OK?"

Totally ignoring Candice's warning, Camilla continued: "Ever since those punks in Vancouver tried to rape me--remember, when I was running around naked that one night--I'd wanted to resume my tae kwon do lessons. No need for lessons now, thanks to my tiny black ovoid alien friends, swimming around in my blood."

Ten minutes later, they were inside Candice's apartment, rushing to her bed. Camilla didn't even bother taking off her tights, since she knew Candice liked the way she looked, and her tit, pussy, and asshole were all accessible to her friend's lips, tongue, and fingers. Candice took off her dress and shoes while Camilla got on the bed, lying on her back. Leaving her black underwear on, Candice got on the bed and on top of Camilla.

"My hero," Candice sighed, kissing Camilla softly on the lips. Camilla put her arms around Candice, hugging her tightly. They started French-kissing, and Candice gently squeezed both of Camilla's tits. "My superhero."

"My licking...Lois Lane," Camilla moaned as Candice tongued her right ear. Camilla grabbed Candice's ass. "Oh!"

Candice moved down to Camilla's exposed tit and wrapped her lips around the dark nipple. As she sucked away, Candice put her hand on Camilla's vulva, briefly stroking her clitoris. Then she slid her long finger inside Camilla's vagina, tickling her G-spot. Camilla, always sighing and moaning, ran her fingers through Candice's black hair.

Candice then brought her head down between Camilla's legs and started licking her hard clitoris. Both her index and long fingers were in Camilla's wet cunt now, the former stimulating her G-spot and the latter gently poking at her A-spot. Camilla's sighs grew into squeals. She looked down at the former redhead who was eating her out; their eyes locked, and Camilla delighted at seeing the lewd smile on Candice's face.

Candice pushed Camilla's legs up over her so she could get access to her asshole. Candice's fingers continued probing Camilla's now-soaking pussy, and her tongue was vibrating against Camilla's anus. Then Candice's fingers and tongue switched places: her index finger gently poked its way inside Camilla's rectum while her tongue reached inside Camilla's cunt, feeling for her G-spot. Candice exhaled heavily, since her nose was resting against Camilla's clit and her breathing would stimulate it.

Candice sucked on Camilla's right labium while her finger probed all around Camilla's rectal walls, stimulating her vaginal walls indirectly. She sensed that Camilla would come in the next few seconds, so she let go of the labium, opened her mouth wide, and waited for the waterfall. It then gushed out, and Candice swallowed every drop. Camilla was screaming in whistle register, then as she calmed down, her screams went in a decrescendo into softer, lower-pitched sighs.

Candice got up and lay beside her lover, holding her close. Camilla put her arms around her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thank you, baby," Camilla said.

"My pleasure," Candice said. "I owed you that; I love you."

Camilla said nothing.

**********************

On Saturday night at Club Ritz, Father Josiah walked in, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. He saw Candice and walked up to her.

"You're Camilla's friend, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Candice said. "She's in a private room with someone now, though. Hey, you're the priest."

"Uh, yeah," he said, blushing.

"I'm sorry about, uh, what happened at that party at Mr. Mennon's house. I didn't mean to, uh...I mean, I didn't know you were the guy I was f--... Oh, I'm so embarrassed."

"Oh, uh, the less said about that, the better."

"Agreed," Candice said emphatically.

"I hope I can get a chance to talk with Camilla." He had a disconsolate frown on his face.

"Oh, sorry, Father. She doesn't wanna talk to you. She's really mad at you for interfering with her sex life and all."

"I-I know. It's just that I..." He was fighting back sobs.

"You have feelings for her, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said in sobs.

"Father, you know you can't do that. Actually, I appreciate your stopping her from getting lovers, 'cause I have feelings for her, too. Gay feelings, you know."

He looked up in shock at her. "You do?"

"Hey, that isn't even close to being as sinful as what you're doing, so don't judge," she said. "Anyway, can't you use...you know, that paranormal power on her, or are you still blocked?"

"You know about that?"

"Of course. I have it, too; though I don't use it as much as she does. I just use it so the needle holes in my arms disappear."

"Insulin shots?" he asked, though he correctly suspected they were really for dope.

"Uh, yeah," she lied.

"I see. And yes, she's blocked me really well this time. Mentally, it's like being buried alive. I can't make a move to help her, and all I want to do is to stop her promiscuity."

"Yeah, so you can have her?" Candice asked with a tinge of jealousy.

"You don't understand. I'm...in love with her. I know I shouldn't. I know I mustn't, but it's not just physical."

"Same with me," Candice said, her jealousy flaring up inside her. "Of course, everything's physical with her."

"Yeah. I want to save her, from herself," he sobbed. "Then I can redeem myself before God."

"I want to save her from herself, too. This power of hers is driving her mad. She actually thinks she's a goddess. That's so nuts!"

"She's made an idol of herself: monstrous. Even more monstrous--do you know who she's in love with?" He looked at Candice, hoping she'd remember the other embarrassing sexual union of that party in Agape's house.

Remembering that night well, Candice felt her black hair stand on end. Had Camilla done what she did deliberately?

Suddenly, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, nude Camilla came out of the private room with Ted Weinstein, the man at the CBC.

"See you Tuesday night at Giovanni's, Ted," she said as he walked toward the front door of the strip joint. Then she gave Josiah an icy stare. "And I won't see you at Mass tomorrow...or ever again."

"Camilla, take it easy," Candice said.

The priest sadly turned around and followed Ted toward the way out, crying even louder.

"And Father!" Camilla shouted. "If you ever put barriers around me again, I'll...!"

"I won't," he sobbed, then left. He could feel the Nigrovum weighing him down.

********************

On Sunday night, black-haired, blue-eyed Camilla watched a DVD of Watchmen with Agape.

Watching Nite Owl II and Silk Spectre II take out the thugs in the alley, then fight the prison inmates so they could free Rorschach, Camilla thought with pride about how she'd protected Candice against Sam, her classmate, and those other three would-be rapists.

"I'm so amazing," Camilla said. "Fighting off those guys."

"You'd be a lot more amazing in my eyes if you'd start coming to church again," Agape said.

"Oh, I don't wanna go anymore, Daddy."

"Why not?" he asked.

"I just don't. I think I'm losing my faith. Sorry."

Hearing her say that didn't ease his suspicions about what she had been doing while he was sleeping. Still, he didn't want to accuse her without proof, and however unlikely her story was about him always falling asleep during their parties, and dreaming about fucking Carrie (with a teenager's body and nymphomaniac horniness), he clung to a belief in it; because the ever more apparent alternative explanation was simply too unthinkable for him...

********************

Camilla didn't put up any psychic barriers that night, for she, all overconfident, wanted to take on all the evil incubi in a fight.

"Warriors, come out and play-ay." she sang, then went to sleep.

Naked, she found herself with Li-ping, Akemi, and Calina--also naked--in basement four of the burning mansion, with the masked Satanists. The flames surrounding her and the masked men offset the cold in the room. The men were in a circle surrounding her and the girls.

"Let's fuck," one of the masked men said.

"Forever, and ever, and ever," said another, laughing.

They came at the girls. Camilla punched and kicked, and blocked the punches and kicks of the masked men as best she could; and though she knocked down many of them, they soon overpowered her and the three other girls. What at first looked like only about a dozen of them soon turned into an endless sea of them!

What caused her to lose the fight wasn't so much her limited fighting ability, or even how hopelessly outnumbered she was: to tell the truth, her acquiescent lust welcomed the masked men's cocks.

They got her on the floor on her back, and a masked man put his cock in her mouth, her pussy, and her ass. The other masked men just watched, laughed their eerie laughs, and waited their turn.

As she was getting gang-banged, she looked up at them; as she looked up from the one in her pussy to the one she was blowing, she no longer saw a mask. Now, it was Grisham she was blowing. Then she looked down at the man fucking her pussy, for his cock suddenly felt different; this was no longer a masked man, but Alex, thrusting aggressively inside her and smiling maliciously. Then she looked over at who was fucking her ass, for that cock now felt different. Instead of seeing a mask, she saw the face of Mr. Leroy. She came.

The illogic of a dream allowed her to be able to see the faces of all the men while having a cock in her mouth. The cock in her mouth now felt different: she looked up, and saw that Mr. Langella had replaced Mr. Grisham. Then the cock in her pussy felt different: she looked down, and instead of seeing Alex's bitter face, she saw the bitter face of Mr. Baker. She came again.

Because her lovers were spirits, they could switch so quickly that it was as though one lover metamorphosed into the next. Now the cock in her ass was suddenly different: no longer was Mr. Leroy fucking her in the ass; Wayne was. She felt a new cock in her mouth--M. Larre's. Then the cock in her pussy changed: now Dr. Davis was fucking her. All the while the grotesque laughs of the masked men could be heard. As frightening as that laughing was, her sexual excitement made her all but oblivious to the ominous sound. She came a third time.

Next, her asshole wasn't being stretched out as wide as before, for Wayne's big cock was replaced by Mr. Chen's smaller one. Then the cock in her cunt changed from Dr. Davis' to Miles'. M. Larre's cock came out of her mouth, and he came on her face. No new cock went in her mouth, so she was free to scream from the pleasure of feeling Miles' cock pumping in her dripping wet pussy. She came a last time, screaming in whistle register.

********************

Also in bed, Agape woke up at the sound of that whistle register scream. He remembered hearing screams like that during his 'dreams' with Carrie (as Camilla called them). Then he remembered hearing Carrie scream like that during some of his recent lovemaking with her, and he used that to ease his worries. He went back to sleep.

********************

Now Camilla was squatting over Mr. Hanson's face, pissing on it. He happily received her golden juice as it splashed off his nose, cheeks, and eyes.

Then she felt Li-ping's pussy come down on her face; she began licking it. Akemi didn't seem to mind licking Camilla's pussy, which was soaked with her urine. Calina was giving Camilla a rim-job.

Li-ping came, and Camilla lapped up the ooze dripping from the Taiwanese girl's pussy. Then Camilla looked down, hoping to see Akemi's face; but instead, she saw Ms. Callahan licking her instead! Shocked, Camilla came on her hated teacher's face.

Callahan got up, spitting the come out in disgust. "Eww!" she shouted. "It's this come that got me down here in the first place, you bitch."

"Fuck you, Callahan," Camilla said.

More of the masked men came at her, shoving their huge cocks inside her still soaking wet cunt, asshole, and mouth; and they started fucking, and fucking, and fucking. She looked around herself: she was no longer in basement four of the burning mansion; she was floating on top of the water of a huge aquarium. People were watching her get fucked by--it seemed to them--invisible lovers. There were cameras and reporters from countries all around the world.

She came, in a huge explosion of desire: her gushing came out in a quickly expanding ring of light, just like the energy reactors Adrian Veidt helped Dr. Manhattan make in the movie Watchmen. These rings of light smashed the glass of the aquarium, causing the people watching to be submerged in all the water, mixed with her come. The people all drowned.




Camilla Ch. 077



More explosions of come ensued, causing more expanding rings of light to splash all over the buildings and flood the streets of New York, Los Angeles, Moscow, and Hong Kong.

The faces of those fucking her now changed into those of the Vancouver punks--one in her mouth, one in her ass, and two double-penetrating her pussy.

"I told you we'd get you, bit titty bitch!" the one in her mouth said.

She woke up, gasping in terror. "DId those four punks die?" she asked. "When they beat up my teachers, their blood must have gotten on the kids' fists, and Nigrovum got into their blood. Fuck me!"

Her bed was soaked in her come, as usual, but she could also smell urine.

"Dammit, Hanson!" she said. "You made me wet the bed again."

********************

On Monday, Agape was in Carrie's home. They were making love. She was on top of him in the cowgirl position.

********************

Camilla, in her bedroom, used Nigrovum to monitor her dad and Carrie. Manipulating what her father saw, Camilla made him see her body under Carrie's face again. Seeing this in Carrie's dimly-lit bedroom would make it easier for Agape to accept, since the difference in the women's figures was less obvious in the dark.

Camilla visualized what Carrie was experiencing, with Agape's cock inside her. Camilla focused on her own vagina, and used Nigrovum to make Agape feel the sensations of her cunt, rather than Carrie's. Feeling a psychic connection with Carrie's lovemaking, Camilla took control of Carrie's mind, making Agape's girlfriend scream like his daughter, move like her, and touch him like her.

Agape was at first shocked to hear that nymphomaniac screaming again, which reminded him of what he'd just heard the night before, when she was having her Watchmen-inspired dream. At the same time, it eased his mind to hear less of a disparity between Camilla's squeals and those he heard in his 'dreams' about Carrie. He did not at all suspect that Camilla was manipulating their lovemaking.

Camilla was doing this to him for two reasons: first, to lessen his suspicions about what she had been doing with him during their parties; and second, to get him used to the idea of fucking his daughter, and to get him to like it, to bring to the surface any subconscious incestuous urges she hoped he had for her.

Carrie came after another minute of Camilla-controlled screwing; then Carrie took his cock out of her pussy.

Still controlling Carrie's mind, Camilla made Carrie go down on Agape's cock, in the gluttonous way his daughter did. Carrie sucked with all of Camilla's skill, for Camilla was visualizing the whole cock-sucking experience, based on her thrilling memories of incest with him. Carrie deep-throated him, never gagging: Agape was amazed to see this mastery, but saw no reason to believe what he was seeing was a deception.

Finally, Agape was about to come, and Camilla made Carrie pull his cock out of her mouth, in time to get a facial. His come splashed all over Carrie's nose, cheeks, lips, and right eye. Carrie was even made to giggle like Camilla as his come dripped off her face.

Freeing Carrie, Camilla then stopped interfering with Carrie's night with Agape; he saw his girlfriend's forty-something body again.

"Carrie, this is so unlike you," he said.

"Yeah, it is," Carrie said, herself at a total loss as to what had possessed her to go wild like that. "Did you enjoy that?"

"Yeah," he said, glad to see her behaviour no longer so dissimilar to what he saw in his 'dreams'. "Surprisingly, I did."

Not surprisingly, I didn't, she thought.

********************

On Tuesday night, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Camilla was eating in Giovanni's with Ted. She was wearing a new black evening gown to replace the one she'd lost at that party she met Ted at. She was also wearing the same white underwear as on that night.

"I can give you a job on TV or something, if you like," Ted said. "Do you have any talents that way?"

"I can act," she said.

"Perfect," he said. "You're beautiful and sexy enough to be a major star."

"I could be the next Angelina Jolie," she said. Kicking the bad guys' asses."

"Great. There are feminists who work at the CBC; they advise us about the most positive ways to represent women in the media. Feminists like to see the strong woman in movies and TV, and we like to please them."

Trying not to barf at this obvious pandering to political correctness, she then said, "I wanna finish university first, though. My real ambition is to be a university professor, like my daddy. I shouldn't rush into anything. Still, I may change my mind when I graduate."

"What a smart girl," he said. "Wow, you're sexy, strong, and smart. When you graduate, contact me if you want to get into acting, and I'll help set things up for you."

********************

They went to the hotel she'd been to with Josiah. She took off her dress as soon as they got into their room, before he'd even closed and locked the door, as usual.

Ogling her panties, he got down on his knees, and she put her ass in his face. He sniffed her butt and nibbled on her pretty panties. She rubbed her buttocks left to right against his face as he nibbled.

This rubbing and nibbling continued as he took off his shoes and pants. Then she took off her underwear and shoes, and got on the bed on all fours. He got on behind her, ready to fuck her doggy-style.

As usual, her legs were spread wide open, and her butt was pushed out so he could clearly see both her asshole and her pussy. Looking back at him and licking her lips sensuously, she let him know he had a choice of three holes. He chose her cunt first.

He slid his hard cock in slowly, and she thrilled to feel its thickness rubbing against her vaginal orifice and walls. When his cock reached her G-spot, she let out a high-pitched squeal. He slid in an inch or two more, and she squealed again, louder. Finally, he pushed in all the way, and she screamed out loud. After a few pokes at her A-spot, she came.

"There goes...Old Faithful," he panted.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Oh! Put your finger...in my ass. I like that. Ah!"

He gently slid his finger an inch inside her anus, careful not to hurt her. "How's that?" he asked.

"Deeper, please. Oh!"

He pushed his finger in her rectum, surprised at how clean it felt in there. He kept fucking and fingering her in this way, and she came again, screaming in whistle register.

With the index finger of his right hand in her ass, he reached over with his left and fondled her left tit with it. She looked back at him, still sighing and moaning. She came a third time. The sheets were soaking.

He was grunting with pleasure at how tight her pussy felt, much better than his stretched-out wife's. She came a fourth time.

"You are...amazing," he moaned. "Unh!"

"Wanna fuck...my ass?"

"Oh, OK," he said, slowly pulling his cock out of her pussy. "I've never done...that before."

Her pussy tingled with delight at the feeling of his hard cock pulling out of her, massaging her G-spot. "Use...my come...to lube me."

"OK." He scooped up some of it from the puddle on the sheets, and smeared a generous amount of it in her asshole, and deep in her rectum. Then he began slowly pushing his come-soaked cock inside her ass.

She looked back at him, squinting her eyes and with her mouth wide open, happy to receive this back-door man. He slid in a few more inches, and she squealed louder and louder.

"Am I...hurting you?" he asked.

"No. I love it. Oh!"

"OK." He pushed all the way in, and started moving in and half-way out of her rectum. He grunted and she sighed antiphonally, as it were, an octave apart in pitch. The tightness of her asshole made the tightness of her pussy seem like his wife's! He couldn't believe how lucky he'd been in meeting Camilla!

She was fingering her clitoris as he impaled her asshole. His cock's indirect massaging of her vaginal walls through her rectum enhanced her masturbating, and she came again.

"Let me...suck you off," she moaned.

He pulled his cock out of her ass, and she got off the bed. He sat on the side of the bed, and she knelt between his legs. She took the tip of his cock to her lips, kissing and licking it while looking up in his eyes and smiling lasciviously. He looked down in her eyes, astonished at the boundlessness of her talents. You're a shiksa goddess, he thought; maybe I shouldn't be an atheist--I should be a pagan.

She took his manhood a few inches inside her mouth, her tongue tickling the underside of his cock. She wrapped her wet lips tightly around his shaft and began taking it in all the way and back out halfway. Greedily she continued feeling his cock slipping in and out of her mouth for another minute or so, before feeling him ready to blow.

She took his cock out of her mouth and jerked him off while pointing the tip at her nose. Finally, he came, sprinkling his pleasure all over her nose, her left eye, her right cheek, her lips, and even up her right nostril. She looked up at him and giggled as his come dripped off her face and onto the floor.

"That...was incredible," he panted.

"Did I please you?" she asked.

"And more."

"I guess you will want to go home now, before the wife gets suspicious."

"Actually, no. I can stay here with you for the night."

"Really? Why?"

"She's in hospital."

"Oh, no. What happened?"

"Well, the weirdest thing, really. We were in bed sleeping last night, and I woke up from a nightmare, rolling over, hitting her face hard with my elbow, and breaking her nose."

"Oh my God! Is she OK?"

"She seems to be, but as I said, she's in hospital. I'll go see her tomorrow."

Camilla washed his come off her face and peed in the washroom, and he removed the come-stained sheets. Then they went to bed, cuddling before he fell asleep. She set up selective psychic barriers, careful not to let those punks or masked men bother her in her dreams.

In the burning mansion again, Grisham was fucking her ass, Langella was fucking her pussy, Holland's cock was in her mouth, and Davis had his cock between her tits.

Akemi, Li-ping, and Calina sat in a circle around the lovers, watching and chanting, "Forever...and ever...and ever."

Ted woke up with a jerk. He sat up in bed and looked over at Camilla. Her legs were spread out and up to either side of her head; obviously, her right foot kicked him, waking him up. The blanket was off her, so she was naked, and gyrating.

He turned on the bedside lamp; he was shocked to see her pussy and asshole gaping open, opening a bit more and closing a bit, over and over again, as if invisible cocks were pumping in and out of her. Her mouth was open, and a bulge kept poking out in her right cheek, as if she were sucking an invisible dick; her left hand was up over her head, apparently holding this dick. He looked down at her tits: they looked as though invisible hands were squeezing them, and someone was pushing up and down against her chest, as though an invisible man was fucking her tits. She was moaning just as she had been with Ted earlier that night.

Too excited to be frightened by what he was seeing, he simply got a box of Kleenex handy, and masturbated as he watched the ghost-fuck. Finally, she squealed out loud, and she spouted come out in an arc all over the bed. Then she brought her legs down, relaxed her body, and lay there as though sleeping normally.

"Unbelievable," he said after coming in the ball of Kleenex he'd wrapped around his cock. "Maybe there are spirits after all." I really should be a pagan, he thought; ghosts seemed to be visiting me in my sleep last night--ghosts with weird masks.



Camilla Ch. 078



As of that Thursday, it had been almost a week since Camilla had last fucked her father, and while she knew it was getting harder and harder to convince him that he, in his stoned inebriation during every lovemaking, was only dreaming about sleeping with his girlfriend, Camilla's addiction to his dick was only getting stronger. To stave off her next encounter with Agape until a later time, Camilla would need other men to satisfy her mammoth lust...for the time being.

At York, she again was using Nigrovum to make her hair and eyes their original blonde and blue, and her skin its original peach colour; she was wearing white high heels and a dainty but revealing white dress that came down halfway between her thighs and knees. She was walking down an empty hall in a building where her next class would start in a half hour. That class would be her world mythology class, in which the very asexual and misandrist Dr. Sorensen was replacing her original sexy prof, the late Dr. Alex McVie; because of this disappointing replacement, she was not looking forward to the lecture.

Suddenly, she felt a hand gently caressing her buttocks. She looked behind and saw Dr. Lawson, the prof for her erotic literature course.

"Oh, hi sir!" she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "How are you?"

"Oh, just great," he said, patting and lightly squeezing her behind. "Even better now that I'm with you."

"You're so sweet," she said, getting wet at his most sensitive touch. She pointed down the hall ahead of them. "There's a one-person washroom over there. Wanna go inside and fool around?"

"Do I ever," he said, his hand roaming along her anal cleft and gluteal sulcus. They reached the washroom and went in. She locked the door.

He sat on the toilet, and she stood before him, swaying her hips slowly while unzipping her dress from behind. She pulled the shoulder straps off her shoulders, and let the dress fall to her feet, revealing her pink bra and panties, both of which had pretty flower patterns on them. A bulge was rising in his pants, and he was stroking it with his hand.

"My pussy isn't shaved today, sir," she said as she took off her bra with a wiggle of her tits. "I hope you don't mind."

"That's OK," he said as he ogled her tits. "It'll be a nice change."

She pulled down her panties to reveal her jet black pubic hair. The underwear fell to her ankles, and she pulled her shod feet out of the leg holes.

"Do I look OK?" she asked.

"Lovely," he said, still feeling himself.

"Thanks." She turned around, spread her legs out wide and bent over so he could see her pink-purple pussy and dark brown asshole. He leaned forward to get a closer look; he put one finger in her wet pussy, tickling her G-spot, and the fingers of his other hand opened her asshole wide. He licked her anus, slipping his tongue inside an inch or so. As he tongue-fucked her ass, his index finger continued stroking her G-spot. He slipped his long finger deep inside her cunt and reached for her A-spot, gently prodding it.

Still bent over, she moaned and sighed at his talented hands and tongue while stroking the bulge in his pants. She unzipped his pants and put her hand inside. She pulled out his cock.

He stopped tonguing her asshole, and his mouth and fingers switched positions. Now he was sucking on her labia while pushing his index finger inside her asshole. He sucked on her clitoris as she jacked him off.

"I'm gonna come," she moaned. "Wanna eat it?"

"Sure," he said, opening his mouth wide in anticipation. He fingered both her clitoris and her anal walls, and she spouted.

"Ah!" she squealed in whistle register. Some people in the halls were startled to hear that, but continued walking down the hall to their classes.

Most of her come went in his mouth, though some was dripping down his cheeks. He wiped the remainder off with his fingers and then sucked on them.

"OK," she said. "Now it's your turn." She turned around, knelt between his legs, and unzipped his pants. Looking up in his eyes salaciously, she kissed and licked his knob, then put his cock a third of the way inside her mouth. He looked down into her lustful eyes and moaned his thanks for her services. His cock would go in her mouth two-thirds of the way, then come out three-quarters; she always looked up at him, always pleased to be pleasing him. Her hand gently scratched, tickled, and jiggled his balls.

He was quickly approaching orgasm, and she could sense it even without the aid of Nigrovum, his cock was so hard and tingling with excitement. Her mouth went up and down on his cock faster and faster, and then she pulled it out with a popping sound. She pointed it at her face while briefly jerking him off. He spouted his come on her nose, right eye, lips, and left cheek. He looked down at the come dripping off her face and smiled. She looked up at him and giggled.

This moment of pleasure served its purpose well: she'd be able to resist another night of incestuous sex with Agape for at least a few days.

***************

After washing the come off her face, getting dressed, and saying good-bye to Dr. Lawson, Camilla hurried off to her mythology class, for which she was about five minutes late. Dr. Sorensen had been discussing the difference between 'matriarchal' and 'patriarchal' myth, clearly preferring the former to the latter. She invariably described the ancient goddesses as loving and compassionate, while conveniently ignoring their wrathful sides; similarly, gods such as Zeus and Yahveh were characterized as nothing other than warlike rapists.

After lecturing for about a half hour to students who were two-thirds female, one-third male, the prof said, "OK, women; I've spent the past half hour doing things the patriarchal way, dominating class time using the teacher-as-master and student-as-servant paradigm. For the rest of the class, I want to do things the matriarchal way, allowing for a free exchange of ideas from all of you. You may now share your thoughts with the class."

The vagina dialogues thus began.

"It's pretty obvious that a society ruled by women is better than one ruled by men," said an obese female student with spiked hair. "No wars, no class struggle, and certainly no sexism: just peace and love, all from the one gender that actually understands those two ideas."

No sexism, eh? Camilla thought; Gee, no hypocrisy, either, apparently.

"Some interesting points," Dr. Sorensen said. "Thanks for sharing them."

"I totally agree," said another overweight female student, one with a nose ring. "No offence to the guys in our class, but I don't think there's anything controversial about saying that most men are pigs." Almost half the students applauded: more than a few of these were male. Dr. Sorensen also clapped.

"No offence taken, I'm sure," Camilla whispered sarcastically.

"I also agree," said a third girl, who was pretty and thin, the one who said she didn't like the 'misogynist' Alex the week before. "Women's ways of knowing, of feeling, and of empathizing, beat out men's cold, competitive, mechanical thinking every time. Men can learn from us, though: I've been drilling femininity into my boyfriend's head over the past year, and he's making some progress."

"You mean there's hope for men?" a fourth woman, also pretty and thin, said. "Wow, who'd have thought?" That same half of the class laughed. "I tried pounding the female perspective into my ex-boyfriend's head, but he, like all men, never listens."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't been pounding so much," Camilla interjected angrily, "he might have listened."

"Oh, Goddess," the spike-haired student said, ogling Camilla in her provocative dress. "Patriarchal woman just did the impossible: she broke the silence." More chuckles from that same half of the class.

"First of all, I fail to see what's 'patriarchal' about me; I do whatever I like, regardless of what men think. Second, what is so silent about your belly-aching?" Camilla asked.

"Um, what's your problem?" the girl with the nose ring asked.

"Ladies, there are a dozen men in our classroom," Camilla said, "and your man-hating remarks are making them very uncomfortable, I'm sure."

"Do you think we even care?" the spike-haired girl asked.

"How many times have men's attacks on our gender made us uncomfortable?" the one with the nose ring asked. "With all the misogynist things they've written in their vicious books throughout history--never her-story--as well as all the suffering they've caused women, why should we care about men's petty problems? Men can rot, for all I care."

"So much for women's ways of empathizing," Camilla said.

"We care about real problems," the third girl said. "Half of women are either raped, or are victims of attempted rape, sexual harassment, or child molestation."

"Oh, not those exaggerated statistics again," Camilla said.

"They are not exaggerations!" the girl with the nose ring said. "Take back the night, I say. We all know what men are thinking when they look at us. I'm sick of walking home at night, terrified of being raped."

Camilla looked up and down at the chubby girl with the nose ring, and said, "I don't think you need to worry."

The spike-haired girl ogled Camilla and said, "I think you do need to worry. If you wore a shirt that said, 'Come and fuck me, boys,' it would be less obvious than what you have on now. But you, no doubt, are too stupid to realize the danger you put yourself in every day."

Remembering her confrontation with Sam and his friends outside of Club Ritz the previous week, Camilla said, "I'm strong enough to know I can easily handle the kind of men you're so terrified of. But those kind of men are the minority, anyway."

A huge explosion of contemptuous laughter echoed off the walls of the classroom as soon as she finished that sentence.

"You see?" the spike-haired girl said. "A dumb, patriarchal tart."

"What is your problem?" Camilla asked angrily. "Lots of men are perfectly decent people." More laughter. "Not all men are monsters!"

"No, but too many of them are!" the third girl shouted. "You may like men looking at you, you vain hooker, but smart women don't."

"Smart women don't have to be man-haters!" Camilla said.

"I wish that were true, but men always gawk at us women, degrading and humiliating us, treating us like sex objects, because that's all we are to them," the fourth girl said with increasing excitement. "They rape us with their eyes, I'm sick of it. I wish they'd all go away! Men, I need to have space!"

"Man, you need to get laid," Camilla said. "All you girls do."

"I already have a lover," the spike-haired girl said, looking fondly at the ring-nosed girl. "Love you, Rose."

"That's not what I meant," Camilla said. Groans of disapproval followed.

"Oh, so you have a problem with lesbians as well as with feminists," Rose said.

"I have no problems with either," Camilla said. "I just don't have a problem with men. My only problem with them is wondering when my next lay is going to be." More laughter.

"Every time you sleep with men, you give them power," the spike-haired woman said. "They control your body. With lesbian love, men can't control you. You should try it, honey: sex and love."

"First of all, I control the men during sex one hundred percent of the time," Camilla said. "The only power they have is the power I make them think they have, as any smart woman does. And by the way, I've probably slept with at least four times as many women as you have, chunky."

"Show off," Rose said. "And I like BBWs, don't I, Serena?" They kissed.

"I like sleeping with girls a lot, but I prefer men," Camilla said. "You two should try them: sex and cock." Loud laughter.

"Sex and yuck," Serena said, kissing Rose again.

"The point is, I make love with women for the passion; I don't do it as a political statement," Camilla said. "And I also like to do it with men. You don't know what fulfilling is till you've felt a cock pumping inside your pussy or ass." Oohs, ahs, and hysterical laughter came from all corners of the classroom now; several men leered at her in hopes of a lay. Insouciant of the reaction she'd caused, Camilla continued: "Strap-on dildos are a joke, girls. Try the real thing."

"No thank you," Serena said. "I refuse to give a man pleasure."

"I don't think you can," Camilla said. More laughs.

"Well, I did once, actually," Serena said, fighting back sobs. "My father...raped me when I was ten." She started crying.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," Camilla said. "But my daddy's the sweetest man ever." She shone another wide-mouthed, ecstatic grin.

"Daddy's little princess," the third girl said sarcastically. "How sweet."

"My mom was the nasty parent in my home," Camilla said. "She falsely accused my dad of doing what happened to Serena, so she could get custody of me. Bitch!"

"There's no such thing as a mother who's a bitch!" the fourth girl shouted.

"Yes, there is!" Camilla shouted back with that eerie, low-pitched, hoarse voice. Her eyes started turning black, as did her hair, wisps of which also flew out in a disordered mess.

"I'll bet your 'daddy' did molest you," the third girl said. "It's just repressed memories."

Camilla got so angry from hearing those words, she visualized tiny stars in everyone else's ears, as she had with Mrs. Holland, causing that same piercing ringing in all their ears. Everyone, including the prof, buckled to the floor as Camilla, now with completely black, dishevelled hair, got her things and stormed out of the classroom.

Several seconds later, the ringing stopped.

"What the fuck was that?" a male student asked as everyone got up, recovering from their daze and the pain.

"Did you hear a story about a girl who fucked profs on campus, and nobody watching could move?" a girl asked.

"Yeah, I was there," another girl said. "She had blonde hair, and the other time black hair. Was that her?"

As Camilla was walking out of the building, she said, "I've had enough of that class. I'm dropping it."

****************

On Thursday, Camilla watched her father lecture on Christopher Marlowe's Doctor Faustus.

"An angel appears to Faustus, urging him to repent and receive Christ," Agape said. "He ignores the angel, being completely blind to his salvation, and set on his soul's damnation. Then Lucifer shows Faustus personifications of the seven deadly sins. Faustus again fails to see the warnings and ignores them."

"You're so great, Daddy," she whispered in sighs from the back of the room. "I want you."

"The devil presents the personified sin of Lechery before Faustus," Agape continued. "Lechery says, 'I am one that loves an inch of raw mutton'. By 'mutton', he means the penis."

I want every inch of your raw mutton, Daddy, she thought. She began fingering herself.

"'O, how this sight doth delight my soul!', says Faustus of Lechery," Agape said.

As you delight mine, Camilla thought.

"'In Hell is all manner of delight', says Lucifer."

"I certainly hope so," Camilla whispered. "I hope the incubi are lying when they tell me about how I'll suffer."

"'O, might I see Hell, and return again safe,/How happy were I then!' Faustus says."

"Exactly," Camilla whispered.

"Later, Faustus wastefully uses the powers Lucifer gave him, playing childish pranks on the Pope, and delighting in how he can apparently do anything," Agape said.

"Why not?" she whispered. "Fuck the Church; and I can do anything, thanks to Nigrovum." Then she checked her watch. "Shit." Dr. Lee's office hours are coming soon, she thought; gotta blow him. She left the classroom, no longer able to hear what her father was saying.

"Now we come to the end of Faustus' life, and his futile efforts to avoid being taken to Hell," Agape said.

***************

On Friday night in Club Ritz, naked Camilla was giving a customer a table dance in the main area of the bar when a handsome, blonde-haired man in his late thirties walked in and saw her frontal loveliness. She'd used Nigrovum to bring back her original blonde hair, blue eyes, light brown pubic hair, peach skin, and pink nipples.

She smiled at the man as he ogled her, then she turned around so he could see her pretty round buttocks. He walked over to a table further to the back of the strip joint, and sat down. As she continued doing the table dance, she did a psychic scan of the man's sexual tastes: he fetished the female anus, liked to watch girls pee, and thought dumb blondes were sexy. She knew which persona to do for him: ditzy 'Dolly'.

She finished the table dance, put on a white T-shirt, some cut-off jean shorts, and high heels, and walked over to where that man went. He saw her, and flagged her down to come over and sit with him.

"Hi," 'Dolly' said as she sat on chair facing him. "I'm Camilla," she said with a giggle, shaking his hand. "You saw me bare-naked over there." She giggled again.

"Yes, I did," he said. "You have a really beautiful body."

She giggled again, like a little girl.

"My name's Patrick," he said.

"What do you do, Patrick?" she asked.

"I'm a banker," he said. "I work in First Canadian Place, the headquarters of the Bank of Montreal."

"Wow! That's impressive."

"I watch over one hell of a lot of money, keeping all the rich people happy."

"Yeah, I'll bet." A new song began. "Wanna see me bare-naked now?"

"Absolutely," Patrick said.

She got up and started swaying her hips slowly left to right as she unzipped her jean shorts. As the undone shorts slowly slid down her sinuous hips, she pulled off her T-shirt with a wiggle of her breasts. Her eyes were agape and her lips pursed as her shorts fell to her feet. She kicked off her high heels, and was now fully naked.

She put her knee on his chair, pushing it against his hard-on while pressing her left breast against his face. He felt the nipple tickle his lips, then he opened them so it would go inside for a brief suck. She took his hands and put them on her hips, sliding them up and down; he couldn't believe how indulgent she was being for a mere table dance! After rubbing both of her breasts against his face for the next several seconds, she turned around and sat on his pointy lap, briefly rubbing on it. She was most pleased with the size of his member, and had high hopes of feeling it inside her pussy that night.

That thing will definitely keep me satisfied for a while, she thought; then I'll be able to wait a little longer before risking things with Daddy again.

She got up and sat on her chair. She spread her legs wide open so he could see her pussy; then her fingers opened her labia out wide. Her vaginal hole was shaped like a black egg. She looked back at him with an open mouth and eyes that invited him inside her dark cunt. Patrick wished he had a flashlight to see inside it.

Sure, I'm a sex object to Patrick, she thought; but I'm not the degraded one, just because I'm naked and he isn't. He's the degraded one because I'm turning him into an animal, him paying me through the nose and satisfying my lust, as I make all men do. He doesn't have the power: I do. Those radical feminists are just too stupid to see that.

Towards the end of the song, she was standing with her back to him. She almost forgot to show off his fetish, her pretty asshole, so she spread her butt-cheeks wide open so he could see. He bent forward to get a better look; she looked back at him to make sure he was getting a good eyeful. The smile on his face as he stared at those pretty dark wrinkles put a smile on hers. Then the song ended.




Camilla Ch. 078



"Do you do lap dances?" he asked as he got out his wallet to pay her.

"Mm-hmm," she said, still holding her buttocks open, since he was still ogling her asshole. "Let's go into a private room." She took his hand with her right and put it on her ass, his fingers touching her asshole; her left hand still held her left buttock open, so his fingers could still have access to her anal wrinkles. With her free hand, she put the money in her purse; then she slipped her feet into her high heels. "Can you carry my clothes for me, please?"

"Sure," he said, picking up her T-shirt and shorts with his free hand. She picked up her purse and they went into a private room. He sat on a couch, and she sat on his lap, facing him. He never took his fingers away from her asshole, for she allowed them to stay there.

The next song began, and she was grinding on his cock as his fingers gently stroked her puckered anal lips. She sighed with pleasure at his incredibly sensitive touch. This was the best anal masturbation she'd ever experienced!

He had been worried that she'd find his anal fetish perverse and annoying, but he was thrilled to note how indulgent she was being. Though he no doubt appreciated every inch of her beautiful body, often fingering her surprisingly hard clitoris and fondling her breasts, he always found the dirtiest part of a beautiful woman's body the most fascinating. To worship where a goddess's shit came out was to worship the rest of her beauty all the more.

Towards the end of the song, she had her back to him, sitting on his lap, but leaning forward so her buttocks were facing upward. He spread them open to see her anus, which was black and slightly faecal-smelling. He gently stroked her asshole and she looked back at him, seeing him adore the object of his fetish. The song ended.

"Can I have another lap dance?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," she said, then turned around and sat on his lap, facing him. He fingered her asshole as she resumed grinding. Again, his sensitive fingers on her anal lips were driving her wild. She got up and licked the inside of his ear as he fingered both her asshole and soaking wet pussy. "I'm...gonna come."

"You're shitting me! Really?"

"Yeah. Wanna eat it?"

"Do I ever!" he said, bringing his head down to her pussy and opening wide. He was tickling her clitoris with the finger of one hand and rubbing the index finger of his other against her G-spot.

"Touch...my poo-poo hole...again," she sighed.

"OK. Gladly." He resumed fingering her asshole with the same sensitive, soft strokes.

"Oh! Oh! Ah!" She screamed in whistle register, gushing in his wide-open mouth. He caught most of her come, though some dribbled down his chin.

"That...was amazing," he panted. The song ended.

"Now I gotta go pee-pee," she said. She took him by the hand and led him over to the toilet.

"That's amazing," he said as he looked around the room. "There are toilets and even shower stalls in the private rooms. And now I get to watch you pee."

She giggled and sat on the toilet. Her back went straight up, and her legs were wide open so he could see. She moaned softly as her pee began pouring out from between her legs and into the toilet water. He looked down and smiled as he watched the beautiful sight, and she looked up at him with the innocent eyes of a child. Her total lack of inhibition or embarrassment was as delightful to him as it was astonishing. She squirted out her last few drops of pee, and then reached for the toilet paper.

He quickly squatted down. "Please, let me," he said, tearing off some TP and reaching down between her legs.

"Oh, thank you," she said as she felt his gentle hand guide the toilet paper in thorough wipes along her vulva, from her perineum to her clitoris. He dropped the toilet paper in the water, and she stood up, her muff now an inch from his face. "But now I'm all stinky."

"I don't think so," he said, greedily sniffing away at her urine-smelling bush.

"You like it?" she asked, pretending naively not to understand his fetishes.

"Oh, yeah," he said, sniffing his fingers for the faecal smell they received from her asshole. "As I like the smell of your pretty anus." He, still squatting, put his hands on her ass and fingered her asshole again.

"You do?" she asked in her ditzy voice, completely allowing him to get a free feel-up. "But it's so icky-smelling down there."

"Not if the smells come from you, they don't." He continued fingering, even daring to slide a finger a half-inch inside her asshole.

"Oh, Patrick, you're so sweet to me," she said, taking his head in her hands and bringing it against her pelvis; his face felt her pubic hair tickling his nose and mouth. He gluttonously sniffed at the urinary smell.

"Let me clean you," he said, gesturing to the shower.

"OK, thanks again," she said. He got up and they went over to the shower stall. She turned on the water, and he lathered up his hands with the liquid soap. He thoroughly cleaned her pussy and asshole, putting his fingers deep inside and cleaning every vaginal and rectal wall. Again, he was amazed at how much she was allowing him to touch.

After he took a towel and dried her off, they went back to the couch. He took out his wallet and paid for the lap dances. "I don't have much money left," he said.

As he looked through his remaining money in his wallet, she reached over and put her fingers on his crotch, gently stroking and tickling his penis to keep it hard.

"I'm going on stage next," she said. "Come watch me at pervert's row; you can see me bare-naked for free, and I'll let you see everything up close."

"OK," he said, and they left the private room.

She went over to talk to the DJ about what songs to play during her floorshow, while Patrick walked over to sit at the tip rail. Camilla put on some light green panties, then put on her T-shirt, jean shorts, and high heels. After that, she went up on the stage, grinning down at Patrick.

"OK, everybody, let's give a big hand for this very sexy young lady," the DJ announced. "Here's Camilla!" Everybody cheered as she started moving on the stage.

Her first song was 'Material Girl', by Madonna. When the male back-up singers were singing 'living in a material world' to Madonna's 'material-al', Camilla took off her T-shirt with a gleeful wiggle of her tits. As the song was coming to an end, her jean shorts dropped to her feet.

Her second song was 'Sabotage', by the Beastie Boys. During the moment with the distorted solo bass, she started pulling down her panties, and they fell to her feet at the ensuing yell of "Whoa!" from the rappers. At the end of the song, she took off her shoes.

Now naked, Camilla crawled around the stage during her third song, 'Baby's Comin' Back', by the Eurythmics. She crawled up to Patrick and wrapped her breasts around his face. She pulled back and giggled at the sight of the smile on his face. He motioned with a twirling of his finger to have her turn around so he could see her from behind: knowing exactly what he wanted to see, she turned around and pointed her ass at his face, gloriously displaying her black asshole and pink pussy to his agape eyes and salivating mouth. She looked back at him with pursed lips and eyes that asked him, 'Does my body please you?'

After that, she got up and did some simple ballet moves she'd learned as a child: pirouettes and plies. The song ended, and she got off the stage, taking only her purse. She went with him to a table for more table dances, since that was all he could afford at the time.

"Sorry I can't pay out more to you," he said. "I'm a banker, and I'm loaded; but I didn't bring much pocket money tonight."

"That's OK," she said.

"So, you can dance, eh?" he asked.

"Oh, just a little," she said, giggling. "A lesson here, a lesson there. What do you do in your free time, Patrick?"

"Oh, sleeping on Saturday, and Mass on Sunday."

"You're Catholic?"

"Yep. A lot of my clients and colleagues in First Canadian Place are, too."

"I'm Catholic, too. But I don't really believe in it anymore."

"Why not?"

"I hate all their rules; the idea of doing everything the Pope and the clergy tell us to do. Restricting our freedoms. Why do we let these men tell us what God wants us to do?"

"Well, that's all true, but Christian faith also gives us peace."

Remembering her incestuous urges toward Agape, she said, "Christianity never gave me any peace: just guilt, and I tried to follow the faith--really."

Though he didn't agree with her, he--not knowing Camilla was a university student--was impressed to see a spark of intelligence in a stripper, the kind of girl he assumed didn't have much of that. This girl was someone who questioned cultural assumptions: there weren't very many people like that in the world.

A new song began, and she started her hip-swaying again. Remembering his filthy fetish, she bent over and pointed out her behind so he could clearly see her asshole. "Is there enough light here?" she asked. "Can you see OK?"

"Very well," he said, ogling away at the black wrinkles.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, yeah: what a beautiful, black anus you have."

"It's black?" she asked in shock.

"Yeah, but it's pretty. Don't worry."

"Well, as long as it pleases you." Now she'd have to remember to use Nigrovum to change her asshole back to its original brown when necessary. She sat on his lap with her back to him and rubbed on his erection, while allowing him to put his hands on her legs and arms.

After the song was over, he paid her. "OK, I gotta go," he said.

"You do?" she asked, with disappointed eyes.

"Yeah, I've got to get back home now. Lots of things to do there. Sorry." He got up and walked towards the front door, but she, still naked, followed him. "You're coming outside without any clothes on?"

"Mm-hmm," she said in all insouciance as they walked outside.

"You're really uninhibited, aren't you?"

"I don't mind. People see me bare-naked all the time; I'm more than used to it. Besides, if people see me out here, it's good for business."

"I see," he said.

"Wanna touch me some more?"

"Yes, I do." He put his hands on her breasts and fondled them for a few seconds, her looking up at him with absolute permissiveness in her eyes. Then he reached down and put one hand between her legs to feel her cunt, while his other hand reached around to touch her ass. She opened her buttocks so he could have access to her asshole.

People walking by watched with admiration at what a total slut she was being. In fact, Rose and Serena saw her, and couldn't make up their minds to be contemptuous of her 'servitude to patriarchy', as they saw it, or simply to be turned on. They'd make a mental note to stop by Club Ritz some time soon.

Now Patrick's fingers were deep inside her rectum and pussy, and she reacted to his feeling only with moans and sighs. She stroked the bulge in his pants, and could feel another orgasm approaching.

"You sure...you don't...want me...to come home...with you?" she asked in squeals. "Oh!"

"I want to, but I can't," he said. "I'm afraid I have--well, responsibilities.

"Oh, OK. Ah!" She came on the sidewalk between her feet.

He pulled his fingers out of her holes. "OK, that's the best I can do for you for now. Gotta go. Sorry. Bye."

"Bye," she said, waving at him as he walked away and pretending she had no idea there was anything wrong with public indecency. Actually, the only thing she was worried about was a patrol car going by. One never came, so she simply went back inside the strip joint, where a number of men who'd seen her on the street were waiting for lap-dances. None of those men were her type, though. All disappointed, she thought, Well, holding off my lust for Daddy just got a lot harder.

****************

On Saturday night, she set up selective psychic barriers again, then fell asleep hoping for the incubi of Larre, Miles, Davis, or best of all, Grisham to come and satisfy her increasing starvation for cock. Instead, she dreamed of being in that basement dining room again, with the succubi of Calina, Li-ping, and Akemi.

Camilla was licking Li-ping's pussy, Calina was sucking Camilla's tits, and Akemi was licking her pussy. Beat this, feminist bitches, Camilla thought; I'm the duchess of dykes.

Ms. Callahan watched from outside the barriers, frowning from her inability to get in and have Camilla again. I'm a feminist who'll have you soon enough, bitch, she thought.

The masked incubi, also unable to get inside and gang-bang Camilla, nonetheless were blocking the incubi Camilla was hoping would satisfy her. They laughed when she sprinkled out a comparatively tepid orgasm, knowing her mounting sexual frustration would push her to rush into sex with Agape.

****************

On Sunday night, Agape sat on his chair in the living room, drinking as usual. As he listened to REM's 'Losing My Religion', he contemplated his annoyance at Camilla's recent unwillingness to accompany him to church.

Well, he thought; I won't let her party with me anymore, as my suspicious eyes have implied to her. Perhaps I'll make a deal with her: if she comes to church with me again, I'll show a willingness to smoke pot with her again.

He'd fixed himself a new drink and was sipping it; then he got up to go to the bathroom. Camilla, writhing in sexual frustration, couldn't hold off any longer: she just had to fuck her father again!

She went down from her bedroom into the living room, knowing he'd just gone to the bathroom. She put a whole pill of ecstasy in his drink and stirred it with her finger. The pill was taking too long to mix in evenly with the drink, so she used Nigrovum to speed up the mixing. Just when it had been thoroughly mixed, she heard her father coming back to the living room. She quickly pulled her finger out of his glass and started moving away from the area, but he'd already seen her there.

"What were you just doing?" he asked her in slurs.

"Oh, nothing, Daddy," she said.

"Did you just tamper with my drink?"

"Oh, come on. Of course not. Sit down and enjoy your drink. I'll get a can of beer and join you. We can smoke some grass if you like."

"I don't think so," he said, sitting down and bringing the glass to his lips. "Things have been getting weird with our parties."

"Oh, Daddy, you've just been..."

"Dreaming, I know." he said with obvious skepticism. "Look, if you come to church with me next Sunday, I'll smoke grass with you again. Deal?"

"Deal," she said excitedly. "I'll just have a beer and--"

"Not tonight," he said. "Only when you come to church with me again."

"OK," she said, then left the room.

As he continued drinking for the next thirty minutes, she planned what she would do to fuck him without getting caught. She knew he was on to her, and it wasn't going to be easy to keep fooling him.

After a half hour had gone by, the ecstasy began to take effect, and she knew he would be too stoned to repel her mind controlling psychic powers. She used Nigrovum to make him fall asleep, then she got those old towels and laid them on the living room floor. She gently took him by the arms, pulling him off his chair and laying him on the towels. She then pulled down his pants and underwear and got on top of him in the cowgirl position. She visualized his cock being engorged and hard: within seconds, her sleeping father had a full erection.

"Oh, finally," she whispered, salivating at the first cock she'd sucked since Dr. Lawson, the first she'd had in her pussy since fucking Ted. "So many an inch of raw mutton: this is gonna feel so good."

Then she did her mind control on him, making wake up to a 'dream' of being in the dim mansion again, and seeing Carrie's face on her body.

"Carrie with a teen's body again, eh?" he said, still somewhat skeptical.

"Yes, of course," Camilla said. Reminding him of when he'd made love with Carrie at her home, and of how she'd looked like 'she' did now (because of Camilla's psychic manipulations), she then said, "I'm the same Carrie you made love with at my home. Let's do it again."

"Well, OK," he said.

Camilla felt his huge cock sliding inside her dripping wet pussy; she was sighing and squealing with the pleasure of a famished man who's had his first meal in a week. As soon as she felt her father's cock rub against her G-spot, she came, screaming in whistle-register. She felt it go in further, and when it was all the way in, poking against her A-spot, she came a second time. Another scream came out of her wide-open mouth.

Carrie doesn't scream like that; well, sometimes she does, apparently, he thought, remembering those times on Carrie's bed when Camilla had altered their lovemaking experience, though he knew nothing about them being alterations.

As Camilla continued to thrill to the sensation of her father's cock sliding in and out of her vibrating pussy, she psychically could sense his diminishing suspicions, and thus relaxed her worries, focusing instead on her indescribable pleasure. After a third orgasm, she decided it was time for some anal. She got up slowly, feeling his erection slip out of her quivering pussy and sighing with delight at the feeling.

Then she scooped up her come from the towels and smeared it inside her rectum, thoroughly soaking every wall. After that, she sat on his cock, slowly and carefully feeding it in her asshole. When it got all the way in, she was groaning and squealing with pleasure at how huge it felt in her ass.

You don't know what fulfilling is until you've felt a cock inside your pussy or ass, she thought as her father's cock slid in and out of her rectum; especially when it's your father's cock!

After she'd had her fill of anal probing, she got up and let his cock slide out of her asshole. Then she turned around and went down on him, taking his manhood all the way in her mouth and deep-throating him. She moaned with pleasure as his cock went half-way out and all the way in again. She played with his balls and tightly wrapped her wet lips around his shaft.

Again, Agape was unsure of what to make of what he was experiencing. This was an incredible blow job, but it was so unlike Carrie. Still, she had performed similar sexual feats recently. He remembered there were times when he seemed to have woken up from these dreams, and found himself back in his living room. He tried to concentrate on waking up, but the amazing head he was getting from 'Carrie' was distracting, to put it mildly.

Finally, he blew his load, and Camilla swallowed it all. Now that he'd had release, he could focus on seeing if he could wake up. After regaining his breath, he used all his willpower to wake up. Sure enough, he found himself once again in his living room. Then he looked down at his belly, and saw Camilla's lips around his softening cock! She pulled up with a shock, not expecting this to happen at all.

"What the hell? Oh, my God, Camilla!" he said, verging on tears.

She aggressively focused her psychic powers to put him back to sleep, but he used the same powers to resist her. Realizing that putting him back to sleep was no longer going to be a straightforward magic trick, she closed her eyes and visualized her powers, as well as his, as two wrestlers, struggling to overpower the other. She imagined her 'wrestler' as bigger and stronger than 'his', and soon was able to 'pin' him. When this happened, she was able to put him back to sleep again. As he slept, she frantically scrambled to put away the come-soaked towels; then she pulled up his pants and sat him in his chair again. Soon after, he woke up of his own accord.

"Camilla," he said in horror. "I wasn't dreaming."




Camilla Ch. 078



"Yes, you were," she said with feigned calmness, holding a can of Heineken in her hands and pretending to listen to the REM. "You've been out like a light for the past---oh, twenty minutes."

"Bullshit, Camilla. I was...with you, not with Carrie."

"In your dream, you were, maybe. And come on, why would you dream a thing like that? Incest with me? That's so sick, Daddy. You couldn't have. Dreams are supposed to be wish-fulfillments. If you'd dreamed of having sex with me, that would suggest you subconsciously wanted it. That couldn't be, could it?"

"No, that couldn't be."

"Then you couldn't have dreamed it. Really, Daddy, I think I know what the problem is. You've been drinking too much. It's affecting your mental health. You're imagining things."

"I certainly hope so," he said, still looking at his daughter with suspicion, but wanting to believe her lies all the more.



Camilla Ch. 079



On Monday night after finishing her studying, Camilla lay on her bed thinking about her close call with her father the night before; though he'd stopped accusing her of surreptitiously committing incest with him while he was stoned and drunk, he clearly wasn't convinced of her admittedly lame argument that his excessive drinking was affecting his mental health. He'd been silent with her all day on Monday, having a shamed look in his eyes over what she'd made him participate in; yet he was also frustrated that she wouldn't simply admit to what she'd obviously done. 

Since Camilla knew she'd want him again and again, she'd have to start using her mind control powers in a subtler way, to make him more passive, and even accepting of her desires for him, reciprocating them.

She sat cross-legged on her bed and meditated, trying to think of the most effective mental blocks to visualize in Agape's mind. She no longer wished to trick him into hallucinating that he was dreaming of making love with Carrie: Camilla felt that the time had come to confront him with her taboo feelings. Though the living room lights were always dim when she'd committed incest with him, they were bright enough so she and Agape could see each other; she'd always wanted it that way, not only so she could gaze on the man she was in love with, but so he could see her. Indeed, deep down she'd always wanted to declare her love to him openly, when the time was right. Now that things had gotten so dangerously far, she could no longer avoid that declaration.

Still, she had to do it with subtlety. Social taboos and Church dogma had kept Agape closed-minded to her kind of love: she would have to break those emotional barriers down. 

As she meditated, she scanned his mind for where he reserved judgement against incest, if committed by consenting adults. After a minute or two of concentrating, she pinpointed this area in his mind, then visualized a kind of fog of unknowing to shroud the area, giving him a childlike, naive lack of moral opinion on the matter. That area got foggier and foggier, until nothing more could be 'seen' of any kind of taboo against consensual incest.

Soon after she'd finished with this visualization, she heard her cell-phone ringing. She picked it up. "Hello?" she said into the receiver.

"Hi Camil, it's me," Candice said on the other end. "I just got home from Club Ritz, and I miss you. Please come over."

"OK," Camilla said. "I need a lover tonight, too; I might do something foolish if I don't get one soon. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Bye."

After hanging up and putting her phone in her purse, Camilla went out of her bedroom and downstairs, where she saw Agape in the living room, watching TV and, surprisingly, not drinking. What's more, he no longer had a shamed look on his face; he just calmly and serenely watched a political debate.

"I'm going over to Candice's, Daddy," she said. "I'm sleeping over there."

"OK, sweetie," he said. "Say 'Hi' to her for me."

"Oh, one thing," she added. "In my myth class, Dr. McVie once spoke of the Bible story of Lot and his daughters after they escaped from Sodom and Gomorrah. They got him drunk and had sex with him. Why did they do that?"

"Well," Agape explained impassively, "there were no more men in the area to be husbands to Lot's daughters, since Sodom and Gomorrah had been destroyed. His daughters wanted to bear children, so they had sex with their father in order to get pregnant. Did that help?"

"Oh, yeah, a lot," Camilla said with a grin, then left.

*****************

As soon as naked Candice heard her doorbell ring, she rushed to the door to let Camilla in her apartment. Camilla came in, and Candice took her jacket.

"Thanks for coming over, Camil," Candice said as she hung up Camilla's jacket in her closet. "I've been going crazy here without you. I'm trying to cut down on the drugs, but it's been hard."

"I know," Camilla said, pecking Candice on the lips. Then she kicked off her high heels and unzipped her jeans. "Well, I'm here now." She pulled them down to her ankles, revealing her white panties.

"Remember when Father...what's his name?" squatting Candice asked as she helped Camilla get her feet out of the leg-holes of her jeans.

"Father Josiah?" Camilla asked as she pulled off her T-shirt. 

"The one we fucked at that party in your dad's living room about a month and a half ago?"

"Yeah," Camilla said as she unhooked her white bra.

"Oh, I'm so embarrassed about that." Candice got up and put her arms around Camilla's waist.

"Don't be. What about him?" Camilla took off her bra.

"I've been wanting to ask you something about him ever since when we saw him that last time in Club Ritz." Candice fondled Camilla's buttocks and pinched her right nipple.

"Yeah, oh, you mean...the Saturday night before last Saturday. What do...you want...to ask me? Oh!" Camilla was now fondling Candice's buttocks, gently squeezing them.

"When we...were all at...your dad's house, stoned and fucking, he said...he knows that you and...your dad..."

Camilla took her hands off Candice. "I told you, it was just an accident." Camilla pulled down her white panties. They fell to her ankles, and she pulled her feet through the leg-holes. 

"He said it wasn't an accident."

"What? That gossipy bastard!"

"Camilla, come on! He's a priest. Don't talk that way about him." 

"Oh, so what if he's a priest," Camilla said as she and Candice walked into the bedroom. "I don't believe in the Church anymore. Those hypocrites just tell lies and restrict our freedoms." 

"He said you're in love with your dad," Candice said as she got on the bed on her back.

"Oh, come on! That's ridiculous." Camilla got on top of Candice in the 69 position. "I love my daddy, but not like that. You should know me better."

"Well,..."

"Well, what?"

"Never mind," Candice said, realizing she'd never get Camilla to admit to anything. 

"Let's just start licking, OK?"

"OK," Candice said.

Camilla dove down on Candice's cunt and wrapped her salivating lips tightly around Candice's clitoris. Candice brought up her head and sucked on Camilla's labia. 

As they ate each other's pussies, Candice did a psychic scan of Camilla to find out the truth. Candice could only vaguely sense that Camilla was lying about not meaning to fuck her dad, because Camilla--who immediately felt Candice's scanning--was obstructing her scan with a visualized psychic 'haze'. Still, Candice had perceived enough to feel quite ill at ease about the girl she was in love with.

Not wanting Camilla to be concerned about her suspicions, Candice licked Camilla's pussy and fingered her asshole with her usual energy, even if her enthusiasm was now feigned. 

Camilla, no longer thinking about Candice's doubts, gleefully licked and sucked on Candice's clit. She put her finger inside Candice's vagina, gently stroking her G-spot. Candice wasn't getting as wet as she normally did, but Camilla didn't concern herself with that, so much was she enjoying the sensations of Candice's lips, tongue, and fingers. Camilla moaned and squealed as usual, while Candice only softly sighed. 

Finally, Camilla ejaculated in Candice's wide-open mouth: Candice caught every drop, letting none dribble outside her lips. Too worried about Camilla, though, Candice never came--not that Camilla was particularly concerned about that. Camilla lay beside Candice, and they cuddled for a while.

"Do you love me?" Candice asked.

"Of course I do, baby," Camilla said.

"No. I mean, really?"

"Candice, we've already gone over that before. Let's just go to sleep, OK?" Not wanting to be bothered in her dreams by any incubi or succubi, Camilla set up complete psychic barriers and soon fell asleep. Candice just lay there and softly sobbed. Afterwards, she reached for her heroin.

*****************

Tuesday afternoon was a warm one, so much so that blonde-haired, blue-eyed Camilla didn't even wear a jacket that day. She'd wanted to turn her professors on by dressing like a schoolgirl, so she was wearing a white blouse, a dark plaid miniskirt, white socks and black shoes. 

Carrying her books, she got on a bus downtown while on her way home from York. Apart from an old lady sitting at the front near the driver, there was only one other passenger on the bus--Patrick, sitting at the back.

As she hurried towards him, Camilla instantly went into her ditzy 'Dolly' persona. "Patrick! Hi!" she said, giggling. 

"Hi," he said, pleased that she remembered him.

"Do you remember me?" She was now standing in front of him. "You saw me bare-naked at Club Ritz last Friday." Giggling again, she put her books on the seat next to him.

"Of course I remember you. How could I forget that beautiful body of yours?"

"Oh, you're so sweet to me," she said, giggling. "Why are you on the bus? I always thought rich guys like you drove around in nice cars."

"Oh, my car's in the shop. Are you a high school student?"

"Yep," she lied, knowing an exaggeration of her ingenue youth would turn him on even more. "Grade twelve."

"How old are you?" 

"Eighteen," she said, pretending to be shy.

"My goodness. You're just a little girl."

"Mm-hmm," she said with a pout of feigned timidity. "I'm just a little baby."

"Aww, how sweet."

"Wanna see my panties?" she asked with a wide-eyed 'innocent' look.

"I sure do."

"OK." She flipped up her skirt so he could see her pink panties, which hugged her crotch tightly in a delectable camel-toe. She looked down at him with agape eyes and pursed lips. "You like 'em?" she asked.

"Do I ever," he panted as he ogled them.

She slowly turned around for him, keeping flipped up that part of her skirt before his face so he could see her panties along her left hip, and then her buttocks. With her back to him now, she swayed her ass slowly from left to right as he admired how her panties hugged those two soft cheeks.

"Lovely," he said.

Giggling, she said, "Thank you." Then she turned around again, keeping her skirt flipped up at her right hip, then her front again. "Wanna unbutton my shirt? You can see my bra."

"OK," he said, reaching up and undoing her top four blouse buttons. "You really don't mind being seen undressed, do you?"

"Why should I? People say I look good bare-naked. You know what my boobies, my bum, my pee-pee hole, and my poo-poo hole look like. Seeing me in my underwear's nothing." She bent down so he could get an eyeful of her elegant pink brassiere. "Is it pretty?"

"Beautiful." He noticed some people getting on the bus.

"Wait," she said suddenly. "You didn't see my panties between my legs. I'll spread for you."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't show that off right now, sweetie."

"I don't mind," she said, sitting on a seat facing him and spreading her legs. She raised them up over her head so he could see her panties again. He ogled her, but nervously.

"Can you two get a room, please?" the bus driver said on the intercom.

"Uh, we'd better get off the bus," Patrick said.

"Yeah, OK," Camilla said, getting up and picking up her books. "My home's just a few blocks away from here, anyway. Wanna walk me home?"

"OK," he said; they rang for the next stop, and got off the bus.

As they walked on the sidewalk in the neighbourhood leading to Camilla's home, she remembered that Agape was still at the university; he wouldn't be home until late that night. She'd be thrilled to have Patrick come in her house...then come on her face.

They reached her house and went up to the porch by the front door; then she put her books on a nearby chair. "So, why are you a stripper?" Patrick asked.

"Well," 'Dolly' explained, "for a long time, guys have told me I have a really nice body. And they were always trying to make me take all my clothes off."

Wow: who could have imagined that? he thought. 

"So I got to thinkin'...hmm, why not take all my clothes off for money? All the guys wanna see me bare-naked, so I can make a lot of money. So much money to make, and all I have to do is undress." She undid her remaining two blouse buttons, for she hadn't done up the others, and then pulled off the blouse. Always with a ditzy 'Dolly' look in her agape eyes, she said, "Taking off your clothes is easy." 

"Easy? Even in front of your neighbours?"

"Everybody sees me bare-naked," she said, undoing her miniskirt and dropping it at her feet. "I don't mind." (In case of gossipy, voyeur neighbours, she'd later psychically make them forget what they'd seen.) "Can you take off my shoes and socks for me, Patrick?"

"Gladly," he said, squatting and unlacing her shoes.

She took off her bra as he took her left shoe off. As he pulled off her right shoe, she slid her panties down to her knees. He sniffed her muff as he pulled off her socks. Then she let her panties drop to her feet, and pulled them out of the leg-holes.

Now that she was fully naked, she sat on the WELCOME mat and spread her legs for his eager eyes. Her fingers pulled her labia wide open so he could see in her vagina.

"Do I look as good bare-naked in the light as I do in Club Ritz, Patrick?" she asked.

"Just as flawless," he sighed. "Even more so."

She giggled her thanks; then she turned around, got on all fours, spread her legs out wide and pushed her ass out so he could see her asshole and pussy. Remembering how Nigrovum had recently made her asshole as black as her hair and nails, she'd now used her psychic powers to restore it to its original colour. 

"It's brown now," he said.

Pretending not to know what he meant, ditzy 'Dolly' asked, "What is?"

"Your brown eye, my dear," he said.

"But my eyes are blue," she said, still pretending to be dumb.

"No, sweetie," he said with a giggle. "The brown eye down here." He stroked her asshole.

"Oh, my poo-poo hole."

"Yes. Very pretty."

"Thank you. Wanna come inside?" she asked.

"Uh, what about your parents?"

"My daddy's not coming home till late tonight."

"And what about your mother?"

"My mommy died several months ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's OK. Wanna put your thing inside me?"

"As much as I'd love to get it on with you, I...uh, I love my wife even more. Sorry."

"Oh," she said. Remembering the troubles she'd had with the Hollands, as well as what happened to Ted's wife, Camilla was becoming averse to having sex with married men. "Well, we'll have to have just a lap-dancer/customer relationship, then. Wanna feel me up?"

"Oh, yes!"

She took her books off the chair and put them on the ground next to the door; then he sat on the chair, and she sat on his lap. She rubbed her buttocks against the hard-on in his pants while he fondled her breasts. She sighed softly in reaction to his sensitive touch.

"Your thing...is really big, Patrick," she moaned.

"Thanks," he said. "You inspire...its bigness."

She saw some neighbours walking on the sidewalk not too far from her house. A few took notice of what she and Patrick were doing. They didn't show any disapproval; they just watched and smiled.

"So, doing this job...is easy, eh?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," she said, getting up, spreading her legs out wide and bending over so he could see her asshole and pussy. "Showing men what my body looks like, and letting them touch me--anyone can do that."

"Really?" he asked, fingering her asshole with one finger and sliding another inside her vagina. He then slid his finger deep inside her rectum. She reached back and touched the bulge in his pants. "I always thought...girls found doing this...really hard, psychologically."

"I don't. I like...my body, and I like...pleasing men."

"I see." 

She turned around and put her knee against his crotch, gently pushing it against his dick. She then wrapped her breasts around his face and rubbed them against his cheeks. He took her right nipple in his mouth and sucked on it while gently squeezing her buttocks and fingering her asshole again. 

A neighbour from across the street, a man in his thirties, came by to watch the show. Patrick had her ass-cheeks spread wide open, and the voyeur could see her asshole clearly, as well as some of her cunt. She psychically could sense someone watching, but she didn't care, for she knew he only wanted to look.

Patrick resumed fingering her pussy again. It was dripping wet, and she would come soon. His finger tickled her clitoris and went up her vagina, stimulating her G-spot. 

"I'm gonna come. Oh!" she squealed. She gushed all over his hand; as the come dripped off, he quickly brought his other hand over to catch the drops before they got on the ground. He then drank it all. 

She got a Kleenex out of her purse so he could wipe his hands dry after he'd finished licking the remaining come off. After drying his hands, he reached for his wallet.

"Oh, no, Patrick," she said. "You've been so nice to me today. You walked me home and helped me get gooey. The lap-dance was for free."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah." 

"Well, I'd better get going. The wife is probably wondering where I am. I'm surprised she hasn't called me yet. Bye, and thanks for a great time today." He started walking away.

"Bye," she said, then she picked up all her things, got out her key, and went into the house. Well, she thought; that gave me some satisfaction, but I still have a craving for cock. What am I going to do without having Daddy again?

Patrick, however, walked down the sidewalk to the bus stop with an ear-to-ear grin. That neighbour went to his house with no less of a grin.

********************

On Wednesday, black-haired, black-eyed Camilla went into Dr. Abruzzi's office in a sleeveless black and white polka-dot top, tight black leather pants, and silver high heels. She locked the door and walked up to him, at his desk.

"Hi sir," she said, turning around and pushing her ass out at his face. "Do you like what I'm wearing?"

"Yeah," he said, ogling her ass. "It's really hot-looking." He gave her a couple of spanks.

"Thanks," she said. "Ready for your afternoon blow job?"

"OK," he said, "but let's not get too crazy this time, OK?" He turned on the radio; the classical radio station was several minutes into the last movement of Mahler's first symphony. "Please don't go out into the hall naked."

"You're my teacher, and I must obey you," she said with a slutty 'Candy' smirk, bending over and pushing her ass even closer to his face. She pulled her pants down to where her ass met the tops of her legs; then she spread her butt-cheeks wide open so he could see her gaping asshole, brown again, and her pussy. He pushed his finger deep inside her rectum, which was immaculately clean, and reached over to suck on her labia. After several seconds of that, his mouth and tongue traded places.

She looked back at him with a grin as he continued fingering, licking, kissing, and sucking at both holes. She took off the rest of her clothes, always bent over and showing off her asshole and pussy for his eyes, lips, tongue, and fingers to feast on. She kept her buttocks spread wide open, looking back at him with eyes that told him how eager she was to let him make full sexual use of her pretty anus. 

He continued licking her asshole and sliding his finger in and out of her pussy, massaging her G-spot and poking at her A-spot. She sighed and moaned softly while reaching back and stroking the bulging shaft in his pants. He slid his tongue inside her asshole and flickered it. Her moans grew louder, but the Mahler was loud enough to drown out all of their sighs. Indeed, no one outside suspected what was going on in his office that day.

Soon, she came in his cupped hands, and he drank it up while she got some Kleenex to wipe up the drops that got on the floor. Then he licked her outer pussy dry of come, and she tried to control her desire so as not to make more of a mess. After that, she got on the floor on all fours, with her legs spread out and her butt pushed out so he could see her asshole. 




Camilla Ch. 079



"Wanna fuck my ass, sir?" she asked with another lewd grin. "I'll moan softly enough so no one outside will hear."

"OK," he said, then got down on the floor behind her, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. She still had some jizz inside her vagina, which he could use to lube her rectum with. He did so, also smearing some on his erection. Then he slid his cock inside. "Unh!" he grunted when it was half-way in.

She looked back at him with welcoming eyes. "Oh, that feels..so good. Ah!" Still, the music was loud enough for no one outside to hear them.

He slid his dick further till it was all the way in, then pulled out half-way, then back in all the way. Out half-way, in all the way. Out, in, out, in, out, in...

After several minutes of ass-fucking, she sighed, "How about...some ass-to-mouth now? Oh!"

"Yeah, OK," he groaned, then pulled his cock out of her ass. She turned around on the floor as he got up and sat back on his chair. She knelt between his legs and brought the tip of his cock to her lips. Giggling and grinning lasciviously, she looked up in his eyes and started licking and kissing his knob before putting it half-way inside her mouth. His rock-hard cock slid in two-thirds of the way, then out to his knob, then back in three-quarters of the way. Out to the knob, in three-quarters. Out, in, out, in, out, in...

Her fingers tickled his scrotum and jiggled his balls as she sucked him off. She never took her eyes off his, eager to tell him how much she enjoyed pleasing him with her mouth. 

Finally, just as the Mahler symphony had reached a climactic moment with the strings and horns, he came in her mouth, and she swallowed every drop. She kept his cock in her mouth until it was completely flaccid, and absolutely no more come was dripping out. Then she put it back in his pants and zipped them up for him. 

"Thank you," he said, "for giving me such a good time."

"Thank you," she said as she got her clothes, "for giving me such a big cock." She got dressed and left.

*******************

That night, Agape lay in bed and thought about his daughter. He sensed that he was developing unusual powers, though he had no idea where he could have got them from. He could recover from hangovers in seconds when waking up after a night of heavy drinking; this was why he was drinking even more than ever before--he knew he could handle it the next day. He also knew he simply desired more booze. 

Furthermore, he remembered how Camilla could cure any physical discomfort of his by simply touching him; she'd often fix his back pains this way. Earlier that day, he had fixed his own bodily aches by merely wishing them away! He couldn't understand how he was suddenly able to do these things, though he knew he'd become able to do them shortly after Camilla had come back into his life.

His new powers didn't stop with ending physical pain. He could now sense other people's secret thoughts. He'd tried this on Carrie a few days before, and to his delight, he sensed that she was hoping to marry him as much as he wanted to marry her. Earlier that day, he proposed to her, and she said yes with teary eyes! He wasn't going to tell Camilla just yet, because he correctly sensed that she would be opposed to this marriage. 

He tried psychically scanning Camilla's thoughts to find out for sure if she really had incestuous feelings for him: he couldn't get in, because he could feel her blocking him. Though he had no definite answer, this blockage only made him more nervous about her. 

Another power he'd discovered was his new ability to influence other people's thoughts. He'd successfully used it on Camilla to dissuade her from wanting to smoke pot with him, though she already seemed deterred from the idea because of what had happened last Sunday. He also used Nigrovum on Carrie, making her want to go with him for dinner to Giovanni's that evening without even having to ask her verbally. Though he was finding it convenient being able to influence things with his mind, the more unsettling realization that Camilla had those abilities, and to a far more advanced degree, was also dawning on him. 

On Monday night, when she'd asked him about Lot's daughters getting Lot drunk and committing incest with him, Agape sensed that the inexplicable calmness of his answer was completely artificial. He felt a fog of carefree obliviousness obscuring his moral judgement, and he correctly sensed that Camilla had put it there.

He tried to clear that 'fog' away with his new power, but he was able only to clear it slightly. To understand fully what Camilla had been doing, and what she planned to do next, he started to plan carefully how to be ready for her.

Camilla will want me to get drunk and stoned again, he thought; that's why I've been leaving the booze alone lately, though I'm in agony for my bourbon. I can't prove it yet, but I think she's been drugging my booze, so she can...no, it can't be! How could she? Maybe I have been drinking too much, and it's affecting my sanity. Her version of what's been happening is certainly implausible, but I'd much rather believe that then think she's been...I can't say the words--I can't even think them!

He decided to do what he correctly sensed she'd been doing: visualize how he could circumvent her plans. He sat on his bed and meditated, imagining that that 'fog' she'd put in front of him was really a window, allowing him to see clearly for the whole time what she'd do the next time they partied; but this 'window glass' would also emotionally shield him from the horror and trauma of seeing her commit incest with him, if that indeed was what she had been doing. He'd be able to know the truth, but be able to bear it, and come up with a rational solution to his problem with Camilla. 

He focused and focused, sensing that 'fog' slowly changing into a window, but one that still superficially 'looked' like a fog, so Camilla wouldn't suspect he'd changed anything. Also, the 'transparency' of the 'window' would make her psychically unaware that he was watching her as she fucked him. 

He was almost certain that she was lying to him; he just had to prove it, and thus force the truth out of her.

*******************

On Thursday night, Camilla went to sleep without psychic barriers, for she wanted to try fighting off all those evil incubi again. 

She was once again dreaming about being in the burning mansion of the masked Satanists. At first, she was being gang-banged by Miles, whom she was blowing, Dr. Davis, who was fucking her pussy, M. Larre, who had his cock between her tits, and Mr. Langella, who was fucking her ass. Her absolute starvation for cock was making this gang-bang so thrilling for her that she forgot all about her original intention to fight off the masked incubi. Soon, she came.

Then she looked up at her lovers, and saw they were gone, replaced by the grotesque masks of four of the Satanists, who were now gang-banging her in exactly the same way as her four original lovers had been. They had got on her before she could even think to get up and defend herself. Since she was also totally horny and still hungry for cock, she could only acquiesce to them. 

As she felt the cocks of the masked men inside her mouth, between her tits, and in her pussy and ass, she heard them laughing their eerie, distorted laughter. 

She looked up at the one she was blowing. He looked down at her, his ugly mask seeming to be his real face, and he said, "We're gonna fuck you for all eternity, you little whore."

She could hear the others say, "You dirty little bitch." 

"Your pussy's gonna bleed when I'm done with you."

"I'm gonna rip your ass in two."

From across the room, Camilla could hear the voices of Calina, Akemi, Li-ping, and Ms. Callahan chanting, "Forever, and ever, and ever..."

Camilla looked around at the four masked Satanists on top of her; but instead of seeing them, she saw those four Vancouver punks now gang-banging her! Again, the young men were in the same positions as the other two quartets had been in.

"Oh, yeah!" the one in her mouth shouted. "My cock's gonna knock your teeth out, big titty bitch!"

The one who was tit-fucking her shouted, "Your tits are lop-sided, you fucking ugly cunt!"

They are not, asshole, she thought.

"Your cunt stinks, you fuckin' sow!" the one in her pussy shouted.

"Your butt-hole smells even worse," shouted her ass-fucker. "You gotta clean yourself out, you ugly whore!"

She pulled the cock out of her mouth and screamed, "Fuck you all!"

Camilla woke up drenched in sweat, with come all over her sheets. 

"Those bastards," she whispered in pants. "I can't stop them."

*****************

On Friday night at Club Ritz, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Camilla saw a face she hadn't seen since grade five back in Vancouver: her old teacher, Mr. Berman.

He saw her from across the room in the main area of the strip joint, struck by her beauty. When he got closer and got a good look at her face, he was oddly able to recognize her after all those years, and after all the changes in her appearance.

He went up to where she was standing, by a table and talking to Candice. He tapped her on the shoulder. "Camilla?" he asked. "Is that you?"

She turned around and saw his face, immediately recognizing him. "Mr. Berman, my old teacher?"

"Yes, it's me," he said. "You remember me!"

"Hi, sir!" she said, throwing her arms around him. "It's been so long. How are you?"

"Oh, OK, I guess," he said with a pout. Candice sadly left with another customer who wanted a table dance.

"You seem sad," Camilla said of Berman, completely ignoring the jealous sadness of Candice. "Why, sir?"

"Do you know how I knew it was you, after all these years?"

"No. How? You have an amazing memory."

"I've never been able to stop thinking about you, that's how," he said. 

"That's so sweet, sir," she said, then kissed him on the cheek.

"Do you remember what happened to me?" He sat on the chair Candice had been sitting at.

"Not really," Camilla said, sitting with a girlish grin on his lap. "I just remember that you were really sweet to me when I was your student. Some boys were teasing me, calling me skinny and ugly, as they always did back then, and I came into your classroom crying. I sat on your lap, as I am now, and you told me how wrong those boys were. I'll never forget how kind you were to me."

"I'll never forget something you did to me on that particular occasion."

"What was that?"

"You suddenly kissed me hard on the mouth."

"Oh, yeah, I did. That's because I had such a crush on you. I've always had crushes on my male teachers. I'm funny that way. But you left our school soon after that day. Why?"

"Well, a teacher saw you kiss me, and not knowing what had really happened, he told the whole faculty I was a pedophile who was trying to seduce you."

"Oh, no!"

"I was fired, and I lost my teaching license," he said, fighting back sobs. "I became a disgrace not only to the whole Vancouver community, but to my family, too. I barely escaped conviction of child molestation, since there was a lack of conclusive evidence. The courts couldn't decide which story to believe: mine, that you'd kissed me; or the teacher's, that I'd kissed you. Still, the damage to my career and reputation was done."

"I'm so sorry; I didn't mean for that to happen." She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"I don't blame you for what happened, don't worry. I just had to talk to you about it, because I knew you'd be the only one to believe me 100%."

"What do you do for money now, sir?" she asked.

"I drive delivery trucks in the Toronto area."

"You don't deserve that; you're so much smarter. I feel so bad for you. I wanna make it up to you, make you feel better, and make you feel loved. Wanna fuck me?"

"Camilla! After what happened..."

"Oh, come on, sir. I'm 18 now. Nobody here knows what happened back then. Come on, let's have some fun. We can screw in one of the private rooms. They allow it here."

"I--I'm just not so sure..." 

"Well, I can feel your penis making up its mind," she said. "Come on, you know you want me. I'm not a ten-year-old any more, but I'm still hot for you. Let's fuck."

"Oh, OK," he said. She took him into a private room. He looked around and was surprised to see not only couches, but also a bed, a toilet, and a shower stall. "Wow, these rooms sure are complete, aren't they?"

"Yeah, they sure are," she said. "Let's get naked." 

She'd been wearing a red dress and matching high heels; no underwear, so she got naked quickly. She turned around for him to see everything. He looked at her beautiful body with amazement.

"I can't believe how you've grown," he said. "You used to be a cute little skinny thing, and now you're a shiksa goddess."

"Thank you, sir," she said. "I know a guy at the CBC who calls me that. And I'm a goddess in more ways than one. You'll see."

With shaking hands, he started taking off his clothes. She got on the bed and lay on her back, eager to receive his cock in her pussy.

Now naked, Berman got on top of her in the missionary position. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said.

"Don't feel guilty about it, sir. Let's have some fun. I've been starving for cock: you'll be doing me a favour, really."

"OK," he said. What about condoms?"

"We don't need 'em."

"How can that be?"

"I have something inside my blood that protects me from all diseases."

"And what could that possibly be?"

"I'll explain another time. Please, fuck me. I'm so horny right now."

"OK," he said, then pushed the tip of his erection against her vaginal opening. As he slowly and carefully slid his cock in, her sighs of pleasure went higher and higher, and louder and louder.

When he was all the way in, she screamed. He wasn't as big as most of the lovers she'd had, but he was big enough, and she was too desperate for cock to be choosy now. After pumping away inside her cunt for several seconds, she came her first gushing. "Oh!" she squealed.

"Wow, we've made a mess," he panted as he continued fucking her.

"Who cares? Just keep fucking. Ah!"

He kept sliding his cock in and out of her soaking wet pussy, reaching over and fondling her breasts as he fucked. He looked in her eyes, at the beautiful face of the young woman he'd once been falsely accused of molesting when she was a child. Not only was he thrilled at fucking so hot a young girl, but he was touched that she, of all girls, actually wanted to have his cock inside her. That he was giving her pleasure made him feel redeemed of the shame he'd been so unjustly given...or at least, he saw a chance to get redemption through her. 

"Let me...know when...you're about...to come. Oh!" she moaned.

"OK, around now," he panted.

"Take it out." 

He pulled his cock out of her pussy, then they got off the bed. He was standing, and she, kneeling before him, pointed his cock at her face. She jerked him off briefly, and he blew his load on her nose, her right eye, her left cheek, and her lips. She looked up at him and giggled.

He looked down at her with amazement at her skills. For the first time in eight years, he felt relieved of his woes, and it was all because of the girl who had given them to him, however unwittingly. She would become even more of an obsession for him than she had been before...



Camilla Ch. 080



Before Mr. Berman left Club Ritz on Friday night, he gave Camilla the address to the house where he and his housemates lived, and invited her to a Hallowe'en costume party there the following night. On Saturday afternoon, she phoned and told a gay male friend from York, who was about her age, about the party. The two of them had often spoken about wanting to go to a costume party that Hallowe'en as Adam and Eve, wearing only small leaves stuck to their pubic hair and anal clefts, and to her nipples. He would attract any gay men he could find at the party, and she...well, that should be obvious by now.

The party was held on Saturday, October 28th, because Hallowe'en would be on a Tuesday, the night before a work day. Camilla used Nigrovum to make her hair blonde, her eyes blue, and all her other body parts their original colour. She and her friend, Ron, arrived at Berman's house late, when almost everyone else was already there.

Berman, dressed as a devil, came to the door to let her and Ron in. Berman frowned in jealousy at her good-looking friend.

"Who's your friend?" Berman asked.

"Oh," Camilla said. "Ron, Mr. Berman, a former grade school teacher of mine; Mr. Berman, Ron, a friend of mine from York." As the men shook hands, she brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "Don't worry about him; he's gay."

Relieved, Berman asked, "Shall I take your coats?"

"Are you sure about this, Camil?" Ron asked. "People won't freak out too much?"

"Oh, yeah," she said. "I got this covered; just give me a minute." She visualized everyone at the party repressing all disapproval or intolerance at her and Ron's soon-to-be near nudity. She imagined their scandalized mouths always shut, all prudes completely mute. When she felt Nigrovum's psychic energy permeating the entire house, inside and out, she said, "OK, let's do this."

She and Ron took off their coats with lewd grins, proudly showing off their practically naked bodies, and gave their coats to Berman to hang up in the closet. They also took off their shoes and left them at the foot of the closet. Everyone, not least of all Berman, just stared in amazement at the boldness of 'Adam and Eve', but no one said a word of negative judgment, nor did anyone demand they be kicked out of the party. There was just a lot of lecherous staring and smiling, mostly at Camilla.

"That power of yours," Ron said. "It's working; I don't believe it."

"I do," she said. And I'm sure Daddy's judgement will still be similarly suspended when we have our next fuck, which will be on Hallowe'en proper; and there will be no problems, she thought. "OK, Ron, let's mingle."

She and Ron split up and mixed with the crowd of guests; predictably, Camilla immediately found herself surrounded by men who were fascinated with her costume, or relative lack of one. That crowd of men made it difficult for Berman, who'd just finished hanging up the coats, to get a chance to chat with Camilla.

She had the tiniest of leaves stuck to her nipples, allowing a little areola to show at the edges. She'd also had Candice shave her pussy to look like a 'landing strip' so Camilla could stick a smaller, thinner leaf on her remaining pubes, allowing more skin to show. Another thin leaf was stuck on her ass, covering most of her anal cleft, but leaving about a centimetre of buttock cleavage exposed. Apart from the leaves and her whore-bright makeup, she had nothing on.

Ron, too, had a small leaf stuck on his cock, and he'd had his pubic hair shaven so he could show off more skin; he also had a leaf stuck on his ass, similarly showing a little buttock cleavage. He wasn't a very hairy man, so his body, with its good muscle tone and definition, would be a real feast for the eyes of any women and gay men at the party; indeed, he was soon surrounded by horny women and a few openly gay and bisexual men.

"Hi," a woman said to Ron.

"Madam, I'm Adam," he said.

"Did you get tired of Eve?" she asked, ogling him. "Do you want to go back to Lilith?"

"Actually, this Adam is looking for his Steve. Sorry."

She and all the other disappointed women went away; but the gay and bisexual men were now crowding him.

Camilla psychically sensed many men behind her slowly bringing their hands down to her ass, to pull off the leaf stuck there. She used her mind-controlling powers on them and all the other men she found unattractive: she mentally suggested, You don't think I'm sexy. You'd rather pursue other girls at this party. You'll want to avoid me for the rest of the night. The majority of the men now went away, leaving only Berman and another handsome blond man in his forties to talk to her.

"What?" a woman watching asked. "Is she gay too, like her naked friend?"

Camilla found a chair and sat there while Berman and the other man sat on the sofa opposite her. She spread her legs so they could see her uncovered pussy. They were as amazed as they were aroused by her boldness, but they felt something mysterious compelling them not to make her restrain her sluttishness.

"So, you're Eve, eh?" the blond man asked. He was dressed as a cowboy.

"Yep," she said, smiling as she watched him staring at her pussy. "I'm freshly made from Adam's rib." She giggled.

"You sure are fresh all right. I ain't a for real cowboy, but I sure am one hell of a stud."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah. And if you don't mind my saying so, you have a very pretty pussy."

"Why, thank you," she said, giggling. She then deliberately knocked a bowl of candies on to the floor. "Oops. I'm so clumsy." She got up to pick up the candies; the bowl didn't break.

"Oh, let me help you," Berman said, and he and the cowboy got up to pick up the candies with her. She bent over with her legs spread wide open, and her exposed asshole was inches from the cowboy's face.

"Oh, Jesus!" he said.

After picking up all the candies and putting them back into the bowl, the men sat down again. Camilla was about to sit down, too, but she looked over to the front door and saw Patrick and his wife being let in by one of Berman's housemates. Patrick was dressed as a king, and his wife as a queen. Preferring to be with Patrick, Camilla used Nigrovum on Berman and the cowboy. You want to go get some drinks, and mingle with the other guests, she psychically suggested. The two men immediately got up and went over to the bar.

Camilla then psychically caused Patrick's wife to feel a sudden filling up of her bowels with shit, and of her bladder with piss.

"Oh, Christ," his wife said. "I gotta go to the little girl's room." She asked one of Berman's housemates where the bathroom was, and quickly went to it.

Now that Patrick was alone, Camilla went up to him.

"Hi," he said, ogling her next-to-nakedness.

"Hi," she said in her ditzy 'Dolly' voice, acting as though she were fully dressed.

"Typical Camilla," he said, looking up and down at her body. "And she was naked, and not ashamed."

"Yep," she said with a giggle. "Like Eve before the Fall. Let's go somewhere alone, while your wife still doesn't know."

"Right," he said. He followed her as they looked for a private place. They went down to the basement and found the laundry room. They went in and locked the door.

Patrick put his hands on her ass, gently squeezing her buttocks as she had her arms wrapped around his neck. They were intensely French kissing; his fingers inched into her ass-crack like the legs of a spider, searching for her asshole. The leaf on her anal cleft came loose and fell off.

"Oops," he said. "Sorry."

"That's OK," she said, then resumed kissing him. He slid his finger all the way inside her rectum, rubbing his fingers all along her anal walls; he was amazed at how clean she was in there. She moaned at the sensation of his finger stimulating the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. Then he pulled his finger out, brought his hands up to her breasts, and gently squeezed them. At first, his hands avoided touching the tiny leaves on her nipples, but inevitably his fingers loosened them, and the first one fell off. She, always with her tongue inside his mouth, pretended she hadn't noticed. Then the second leaf came off.

"Oops," she said, looking down at it as it touched the floor by her feet.

"Sorry again," he said, embarrassed at his clumsiness, but still squeezing.

"Don't worry about it," she said. She brought her right hand down to his crotch and started stroking the erection inside.

Naked, unashamed Eve, he thought; what an appropriate costume. Then he put his hand between her legs, correctly assuming she wouldn't mind if the last leaf came off her pubic hair. After several seconds of stroking her clitoris with his fingers, the leaf did come loose, and indeed, she let it fall to the floor, too. Now she was one hundred percent naked.

"Sorry a third time," he said.

"It's OK," she said. "I had a friend shave me so I could show off more skin. Might as well show everything."

"Yeah," he panted.

His sensitive, expert fingers tickled her clitoris with a faster, vibrating speed, and she was sighing and squealing at a high pitch. He bent down to suck on her tits. She ran her fingers through his hair as his wet lips tightly embraced her left nipple, then moved over to be wrapped around the right one. The fingers that had been stroking her clit were now up her cunt, tickling her G-spot. She hoped her screams wouldn't be heard outside. Luckily for her, that man in the cowboy costume had seen her and Patrick come down into the laundry room. He eavesdropped on the other side of the door and touched the bulge in his pants.

Patrick squatted down on the floor, and Camilla got on the floor on all fours, with her legs spread wide open and her butt pushed out so he could see her asshole and pussy. She looked back at him, her eyes asking him if he still liked what he saw. He fingered her asshole, opening it wide, then his face dove down to it.

He started eagerly licking her asshole and pussy, his tongue sliding upward in large, inclusive licks. His tongue touched every wrinkle, both pink and brown, and there was no urinary or faecal taste at all. He kept licking and licking, and she kept sighing and squealing, coming closer and closer to orgasm. His fingers opened her asshole wider, and he slid his tongue a centimetre inside.

"I'm gonna come," she squealed. "Oh!"

Oh, if only I could see this, the cowboy thought as he listened and felt himself.

Remembering how copiously Camilla gushed, Patrick pulled his tongue out of her asshole and brought his head down to her vagina just in time. Her come spouted out, and he swallowed much of it, but much of it also sprayed all over his face.

They were fortunate to have a sink in the laundry room so Patrick could clean up. After he did, he asked, "Well, what about the leaves?"

"Oh, don't worry about them," she said. "I'll think of something."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah, I'll be fine. You'd better hurry. The Mrs. is probably wondering where you are."

"Oh yeah, right," he said, and rushed out of the laundry room. The cowboy was hiding, so Patrick didn't see him as he raced back upstairs to find his wife.

Camilla psychically sensed the presence of the forty-something blond man in the cowboy costume; she just casually walked out of the laundry room, leaving the leaves behind. He appeared from his hiding place.

"Oh!" she said, pretending to be surprised at his accosting of her, but leaving her hands at her sides so his eyes could freely roam all over her delicious frontal nudity. "Bonsoir, mon cowboy."

"Hi," he said, admiring her breasts and landing strip pubic hair. "Those leaves weren't really covering anything anyway, were they?"

"Nah," she said, giggling at how his eyes continued looking up and down at her body. "Are you a guest, or one of Mr. Berman's housemates?"

"A guest," he said, approaching her and still ogling. "I'm Hank, by the way." He put out his hand for her to shake.

"I'm Camilla," she said, shaking his hand. "If you go up, get my coat and bring it to me, I'll let you take me home and fuck me."

He flew up the stairs like a bolt of lightning.

******************

In twenty minutes, they were in his apartment building, standing in the hall in front of the door to his room as he got out his keys to let them in.

"I hope Mr. Berman won't be too mad at me for leaving his party so soon," Camilla said, undoing her coat buttons.

"I'm sure you can make up an excuse, and he'll forgive you for it," Hank said as he put his apartment key into the hole and unlocked the door.

"I'll make it up to him someday soon," she said, then took off her coat and let it fall to the floor. She kicked off her high heels.

He got the door open, then looked back at the naked girl in the hallway. "Uh, sweetie, I can't have you out here naked, where my gossipy neighbours can see you. Please get in quickly." He squatted down to pick up her coat and shoes. While he was down there, she pushed her buttocks against his face and rubbed them against his nose, lips, and cheeks. While he enjoyed that, he knew he had to get her in his apartment quickly before anyone saw them.

They got inside, and while he was locking the door and putting her coat and shoes on a nearby table, she ran off, looking for his bedroom. She found it, dropped her purse by the bed and got on it on all fours, spreading her legs and showing off her asshole and pussy. He quickly got naked and got on the bed behind her.

He slid his hard cock inside her wet pussy; as it went in deeper and deeper, she sighed and squealed louder and louder, and higher and higher in pitch. When the knob of his cock poked against her A-spot, she screamed with delight. After a few more pleasant pokes, she squirted her first orgasm for him.

"Wow," he panted as he continued fucking her. "You're a...wet one, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she said in sighs. "Sorry. Ah!"

"That's OK. Actually, I'm...quite flattered. Unh!"

"Oh, fuck me! I don't...get enough...these days. Oh!"

"Not enough? You just...got some...with that guy...in the...laundry room. Oh!"

"He didn't...put his...cock in me. Ah!" She came again.

"You...poor girl. Unh!"

"Wanna fuck...my ass?" Oh!"

"Sure," he panted, then pulled his cock out of her pussy. She sighed soprano notes as his shaft slid along her vaginal walls, making a tingling sensation against her G-spot. She reached for her purse and took out her anal lube; then she gave it to him. He lubed his cock and her rectum thoroughly, then gently pushed the tip of his cock against her anal orifice.

She looked back at him as he slid his cock in an inch further, moaning softly and her eyes welcoming his cock inside her ass. By the time he got half-way, her low moans changed to high-pitched squeals.

"This feels..so good," he grunted. "Oh!" He pushed in further.

"Oh, yeah," she moaned. "Ah!" He was all the way in.

"You are...so tight...in here. Fuck!"

The bed shook as he pushed his cock in and pulled it out. She balanced herself with one hand while the other fingered her hard clitoris. They were moaning and sighing like a vocal duet. After a minute or so of more ass-fucking, he was ready to come.

"I'm gonna blow. Unh!"

"Take it out," she said with a shaky voice. Come on...my tits. Oh!"

He pulled his cock out of her ass, and she turned around, kneeling and facing him. She took his cock in her hand and slid her fingers back and forth along his long, thick shaft. Keeping his dick pointed at her tits, she had him shoot his first load at her left breast, then her right, then on her right nipple, then her left, then a last splash went on her belly.

They lay on the bed on their backs, with their arms around each other, slowly catching their breath.

This should keep me satisfied until Hallowe'en, she thought; when I'll be doing this with Daddy again.

****************

Agape was confident that his developing psychic powers would cancel out any drugs Camilla gave her, so he could clearly monitor her inevitably lewd behaviour during the late hours of their Hallowe'en party. He could surreptitiously watch her without her knowing he was watching. Soon he would find out for sure if she was really committing incest with him, and his psychic turning of her 'fog of unknowing' into a 'window of observation' would have 'glass' that would shield him from the emotional pain of knowing how she was shaming him. He would be ready for her.

She agreed to start going to Mass with him again, since that was his condition for agreeing to smoke pot with her during their Hallowe'en costume party in his house on Tuesday night. That Sunday morning, he and his daughter sat at the front pew of the church as usual, waiting for Father Josiah's homily.

The priest spoke about the symbolism of the first six days of Creation. "There is much duality, or separation into opposites, in the Creation narrative," he began. "God created the heaven above, and the earth below. The earth was unformed and void, and there was darkness: then there was light."

All of this was reminding Camilla about Dr. McVie's first lecture on creation myths. In Greek myth, there was unformed chaos, then darkness, then light.

"From the darkness, we come to the light," Josiah continued. "God divided the waters below and above with the firmament. He called the light Day, and the dark Night. Then He separated land and sea, and made the sun and the moon."

Exciting? Camilla wondered; boring, actually.

"Finally," Josiah said, "God created man and woman in His image. He separated the original human into two sexes when he fashioned Eve from one of Adam's ribs. In chapter one we look down from heaven onto earth, as before the Fall; in chapter two, we look up from earth to heaven, as after the Fall. Prior to the Fall, all is good; after the Fall, all is bad. We went from the light to the dark. We must go back to the light, from the unformed void to the goodness of God's creation. There's no third, middle way, as the false prophets would have us believe; good and evil are separate, as were all the things God separated during the Creation. Jesus is the only bridge from the evil to the good--Jesus, who as the Word was with God during the Creation. There are only two ways, as the Creation narrative suggests: darkness, or light; formlessness, or creation; night, or day; below, or above; damnation, or salvation. Choose the latter."

After the homily, Agape and Camilla went up to say goodbye to Father Josiah.

"Would you like to come to a Hallowe'en costume party at my house, Father?" Agape asked.

"Nothing too crazy, like last time, I hope?" the priest asked.

"It'll be perfectly innocent," Agape said. (He was hoping the priest could be there to corroborate his story about Camilla's incestuous lust should they see it before their eyes.) "Nothing sinful at all."

"It'll be like Adam and Eve before the Fall," Camilla said.

Both Agape and Josiah raised their eyebrows at her words, but said nothing in reply to her.

"I'll be there," Josiah said, hoping to watch Camilla and make her behave. "But I won't have any liquor."

"No problem," Agape said. "We're having only Coke and ginger ale, right, Camilla?"

"Right," she said. We'll save the drugs for after Josiah and Carrie are gone, she thought.




Camilla Ch. 080



"Great," Agape said. "We'll see you Tuesday evening, then. C'mon, Camilla." Agape started walking towards the door.

"In a minute, Daddy," she said. Agape continued going outside, thinking about how he'd vaguely sensed Josiah's knowledge of Camilla's wickedness, but couldn't make out exactly what kind of wickedness.

"So, you're back," the priest said.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess you've been punished enough."

"When can I see you again?" he asked.

"At the party, of course. Now, if you want to...you know..."

"No," he said weakly. "I mustn't."

"You sure?" she asked. "I heard a yes inside that no."

"I'll...I'll see you at the party."

"OK." She left with Agape.

It's so hard to choose light over darkness, he thought; her father senses she's up to something bad, but he seems to know how he'll handle it.

*******************

On Monday afternoon, it was an unusually warm late October day. After finishing her classes at York, black-haired, black-eyed Camilla sensed that Patrick would be at Dufferin Grove Park. She went there wearing only a dress and high heels--no underwear, but a lot of makeup. As she walked around a cluster of trees, she saw him and his wife; they were walking around too, among the many people there that day.

Camilla used her psychic powers to change her hair, eyes, skin, nipples, and asshole back to their original colours. Then she used Nigrovum to make Patrick's wife feel another sudden urge to piss and shit.

"Oh, not again," his wife said. "I gotta find a washroom. Wait here for me, OK?"

"OK," he said. She ran off.

Camilla now appeared before him.

"HI!" 'Dolly' said.

"Camilla," Patrick said. "I keep bumping into you."

"Yeah," she giggled. "Wanna see me bare-naked?"

"Uh, yeah, but..."

"OK." She unzipped her dress and dropped it on the ground, all with a carefree ditzy 'Dolly' look in her eyes. After kicking off her high heels, the naked girl picked up her clothes, took Patrick by the arm, and led him into the middle of a tight cluster of trees, where they'd have relative privacy. She got on the grass on all fours, showing off her asshole and pussy as usual. "Wanna have a taste?"

"I-I'd love to, but my wife..."

"Don't worry about her, she'll be gone for a while."

"How do you know she'll be gone for a while."

"I made her want to go to the washroom, as I did at the Hallowe'en party," she said.

"You made her what?"

"I have psychic powers; that's how I knew you were here."

"OK, this is getting weird, Camilla."

"Don't worry about it. I'll explain later. Please get down and lick me."

"OK." He got down behind her ass and stuffed his face between her buttocks, licking her asshole while fingering her vagina. She looked back at her ass-licker and moaned her thanks at his sensitive, talented tongue and fingers.

A few men came by and, hiding behind the other sides of the trees, quietly watched. Camilla knew they were there, but was happy to let them watch, of course. Two of the men had cellphone cameras, and recorded video of Camilla and Patrick.

She fingered her clit as he pushed his finger up her asshole. He sucked on her one labium, then the other. After that, she lay on her back with her legs spread wide open and her feet up in the air, and he dove down on her muff, licking her pussy frantically. His tongue tickled her clitoris, and he slid two fingers deep inside her pussy, poking at her A-spot.

"This is amazing," one of the video recording guys whispered.

"This should be online," another voyeur whispered.

"It will be, I assure you," the first man said.

Camilla knew what they wanted to do, and she was glad to let them; after all, this was the first porn she'd done since Bob died. Patrick was licking her asshole again, and she was touching her clitoris again.

"I'm gonna come," she sighed. "Oh!"

He darted his head out of the way in time, and her come flew out in an arc onto the grass. The video-recording guys greedily caught the whole come-shot, unabridged.

"Pat? Pat?" his wife suddenly called out. "Where are you, honey?"

"Shit!" he said, getting up. "Gotta go. Bye." He ran out from the trees.

"What were you doing in there?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, just getting out of the sun," he said. The two of them kept on walking, Patrick faster than her.

"Bye," Camilla said, grabbing her dress. "Thanks." She got dressed.

"Who was that?" his wife asked.

"Who was who?" he asked.

His wife looked at him with suspicious eyes, but luckily for Patrick, she never saw Camilla coming out from the trees.

**************

Studying in her bedroom that night, Camilla thought again about Father Josiah's sermon, and how it compared to the Greek creation myth in Hesiod's Theogeny. First there was formless Chaos, who gave birth to Erebus, darkness, and Nyx, the goddess of night.

Camilla remembered how Alex said that Nyx laid an egg in her brother Erebus, from which sprang Eros, the god of sexual love and desire. Eros caused all things to mingle, creating the universe through procreation. Then came Light, Day, and Gaia, the earth-goddess.

Yeah, Camilla thought; Eros' lust made form from Chaos, and through his sexuality he made light from darkness. Sex is salvation, Father Josiah. Greek myth is so much better than Bible stories.

She remembered how Gaia's son, Ouranos, the sky-god and first king of the gods, became her husband. Their children were the Titans. Yes, Camilla thought; incest is allowed among the gods. Zeus married his sister, Hera. Daddy has the power of Nigrovum, as I do; we're both gods, and gods can commit incest if they like--gods can do anything they like! And because sex and incest lead us from formlessness to creation, from the darkness to the light, sex and incest are good, not bad! Sex takes us from damnation to salvation!

Camilla then went to bed, setting up complete psychic barriers so she could have pleasant dreams. Eagerly looking forward to the Hallowe'en party and to fucking Agape again, she quickly went to sleep.

Unfortunately, she hadn't bothered thinking about what else Alex had said during that first lecture, that Ouranos was usurped and castrated; then his usurper, Cronus, was also dethroned, and a terrible ten-year war began between the Olympian gods and the Titans.

"We see here," Alex had said, "why there's no creation, sexual or otherwise, in Nirvana; for as the Buddhists say, desire always leads to suffering."

Camilla had a bad habit of ignoring observations like those.

**************

Tuesday night came, and Camilla convinced Agape to dress as a priest. He privately agreed to it to see if it would at all deter her from wanting to fuck him; actually, it made him all the sexier to her. He also allowed Candice to come over, curious to see how wickedly she would behave, so confident was he that he'd have full lucidity that night, in spite of the drinking and the drugs.

Candice arrived dressed as a prostitute, as was Camilla. Camilla opened the door and let Candice in.

"Oh, Camil, I'm so embarrassed," Candice said when she saw Camila in exactly the same clothes.

"Don't worry about it; we'll be twin twats tonight," Camilla said. The girls laughed, then went into the living room.

In fact, Camilla had psychically influenced Candice's choice of clothes and makeup because she wanted them to look identical. Camilla had Candice be a clone of her as a safety precaution, in case Agape had gotten rid of the 'fog of unknowing' she'd psychically shrouded him in. If he was lucid during their sex, she could then claim that it was Candice who was fucking him.

Father Josiah arrived simply in his priest's outfit. Agape opened the door, and was embarrassed to be seen wearing the same clothes.

"Oh, Father," Agape said, letting Josiah in. "I'm so embarrassed to be dressed this way, knowing you are too. Why didn't you wear a costume?"

"Oh, I've always found Hallowe'en costumes to be silly," the priest said, walking into the living room. When he saw Camilla, uneasy to see her and her friend dressed like whores, he added, "Besides, my dressing like this is meant as a reminder that I want to be good this evening."

"Everything will be nice and innocent, I promise," Camilla said, pouring a Coke for him and handing it to him.

"Like Adam and Eve before the Fall?" he asked.

"Yes, Father," she said.

"But dressed, right?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yes, absolutely."

"How can I be sure things will be innocent if you girls are dressed like that?"

"Oh, they're just costumes, don't worry," Candice said.

Camilla just gazed at the two 'priests' and herself and Candice, the two 'prostitutes'. Duality, Camilla thought.

Carrie had arrived as the girls were talking to Father Josiah, so Agape didn't hear what they were talking about. Carrie was dressed as Aphrodite; Agape walked with her into the living room, where she, too, was surprised at how Camilla and Candice were dressed.

"Everyone, meet Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty," Agape said, kissing Carrie. "My goddess."

No, Daddy, Camilla thought; I'm the only love-goddess here. You'll understand that soon enough.

After dinner, they drank Coke and began listening to Neil Young's After the Gold Rush while talking. Then Camilla, growing sick of watching her father hug and kiss Carrie on the cheek, used Nigrovum on her.

You have important work to do at home tonight, Carrie, Camilla mentally suggested to her; lots of tests to grade, and lessons to prepare for tomorrow. You can't stay much longer.

"Oh, look at the time," Carrie said. "I have a lot to do tonight, Aga. Sorry. I can't stay."

"Oh, that's too bad," Agape said. "You have tests to mark?"

"Yeah, and lessons to prepare," she said. "I'd better get going. We'll make up for the lost time soon enough, though." She kissed him on the lips, then went to the door. Agape followed her. "Goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight," the others said. Agape gave Carrie one last kiss, at which Camilla groaned to see, and Carrie went out the door.

He's gonna marry her, I know it, Camilla thought; Ugh!

Now she had to get rid of Father Josiah, whose developing psychic powers made him a dangerous obstacle to her pleasure that night. She had to be more subtle in her psychic suggestions to him, since he'd know if she was influencing his thoughts.

Don't worry about Camilla, she suggested to him; her father won't let her do anything bad. He has the power, too, and he'll be watching her the whole time.

More than she knew.

"Well, I think I'd better get going now, too," Father Josiah said, getting up from his chair. "Thanks for a charming evening. The meal was delicious. What a good cook you are, Camilla."

"Thanks, Father. Goodnight," Camilla said.

"Goodnight, everyone," he said as he walked to the door.

"Goodnight," the others said. The priest was gone. Now there were only Camilla, Candice, and Agape.

Candice went to the bathroom to snort a line of ketamine and take a pill of ecstasy. Camilla went into the kitchen and swallowed a pill of E with some water, too. Then she fixed Agape a glass of Jim Beam, adding a full pill of ecstasy to it.

When I declare my love to you, Daddy, she thought, I want you to be too high to reject it.

Agape went into the kitchen, correctly sensing she was up to no good. He saw her drop the pill into his drink and mix it. I knew it, he thought; still, I'll let her have her way. He needed to see all the proof of what she was doing, as painful as it may have been to know. He remembered his plan: to pretend he was totally unsuspecting of her schemes, and to pretend that the psychic 'fog of unknowing' she'd put over him was still working, cancelling out his sense of Christian moral judgement. He would use Nigrovum to cancel out the effects of the pill as soon as he felt it kicking in, as well as cancel out the effects of the marijuana they would soon smoke. He'd already used his psychic powers to change her 'fog of unknowing' into a 'window' through which he could clearly see her committing incest with him; still, the 'window's glass' would emotionally distance him from the trauma of watching her shame him. That emotional separating of his observation from his sense of shock would be mistaken by Camilla for the original 'fog of unknowing', making him not judge her.

Camilla got two beers for herself and Candice, then took all the drinks into the living room, where Candice and Agape were waiting. As Camilla prepared a joint for them to smoke, Candice knelt before the CD player.

"Can I change the music, Mr. Mennon?" Candice asked.

"Sure," he said.

She took out the Neil Young CD and replaced it with some techno. The music started to play, and she danced by herself, pretending only to be interested in the music; for Candice, too, was planning. She needed to know if Camilla really was planning to fuck her father, but she didn't want Camilla to know she was checking up on her, as Agape was. She'd visualized a 'fog of marijuana smoke' to make Camilla believe she was too stoned to be paying any attention to the incest about to be committed. Her plan was as subtle as Agape's, and Camilla suspected nothing.

Camilla rolled the joint, lit it, took a few puffs, and passed it to Candice. She took a few puffs, and passed it to Agape. After a half hour of drinking and smoking, they could all feel the E kicking in, and the girls got up and started dancing.  

Agape could feel his body tingling with pleasure, but, knowing the drugs were part of Camilla's scheme, he resisted the temptation to enjoy the high, and used Nigrovum to cancel it out. All the same, he fidgeted in his chair, pretending to be peaking on the ecstasy. Similarly, he psychically cancelled out the pot, however reluctantly, but still played the role of the stoner. With his eyes half-open to seem inattentive, he watched the girls.

As they danced, they slowly took off their prostitute costumes, being tight-fitting white blouses and tight-fitting red spandex pants that hugged their crotches in camel-toes. Their hair and eyes were black, and their skin was Goth-pale. Wearing no underwear, they were now naked. Candice squatted down in front of standing Camilla and started sucking on her left breast; she fingered Camilla's already wet pussy.

Though Agape felt emotionally immune from the scandalous sight he was watching, he, in his Christian scruples, thought, Have they no shame at all?

The girls lay on the floor, Camilla on her back and Candice on top of her, still sucking on her breast. Soon Candice kissed her way down to Camilla's pussy and started licking it. Camilla spread her legs wide open and raised them up. Candice slid her finger slowly inside Camilla's asshole while she sucked on her stone-hard clitoris.

As Agape watched, he imagined the jadedness of addicts to pornography who watch and masturbate without joy. That 'window of observation' of his was just like a TV screen, or a computer monitor.

Camilla was squealing and screaming; Candice knew her lover was about to orgasm, and she pushed Camilla's legs up in anticipation of the gushing. Soon enough, Camilla came in Candice's mouth, and every drop went inside. Not a drop got on Agape's carpet.

How considerate of you, Candice, Agape thought.

Candice got up and, totally wasted on the ketamine and ecstasy, nonetheless wanted to do more drugs, and went into the bathroom with her purse.

Camilla got up and looked at her father, who seemed as wasted as Candice, and morally indifferent to Camilla's desires. Perfect, she thought.

She found those old towels and lay them on the living room floor. Then she went over to Agape, psychically changing her eyes back to their original blue.

This is it, he thought. The moment of truth.

She gently took him by the arms and got him to lie on the floor on his back. She unzipped his pants, pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees, and psychically gave him an erection.

I was right, he thought; if only I could have been wrong. Still, I must see how far she plans to take this, to know the extent of her perversion.

She slowly came down on his lap in the cowgirl position, aiming his cock at her wet pussy. The tip touched her vaginal orifice, and she sighed at the tingling sensation. She fed it inside her cunt, inch by delicious inch. Her sighs quickly grew into squeals and screams of pleasure.

"Ride 'em, cowboy!" she squealed. "Ah!"

This is no dream, this is really happening, he thought. Though emotionally protected from the pain by the 'glass' of the psychic 'window', he could watch with only one word repeating in his mind: horror! Indeed, it was like watching a horror movie on TV. He felt like someone watching Psycho, or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or The Silence of the Lambs, knowing the murders in those movies were inspired by, and closely imitative of, the Ed Gein murders in Wisconsin in the 1950s; yet the viewer of those movies, jaded by all the violence, didn't care about the suffering the Gein murders caused. This same kind of apathy, caused by the Nigrovum, dominated his mind as he watched his daughter fucking him, knowing the only reason his dick was hard was because she'd made it that way; and his lack of emotional shock was the most horrifying thing of all.

What is this thing I have inside me? he wondered; what is this alien intelligence making me not care?

Camilla, looking down into her father's eyes, ecstatically whispered, "Oh, Daddy, Oh! I love you. Ah! Don't marry Carrie. Oh! She's...not right...for you. Unh! Only I...can love you...as you should...be loved. Ah! My lust...my love...will bring you...to the light. Ah! We'll create...a new universe...with our love. Oh! A new world: no...prejudice against...our kind...of love. Ah! Oh, Daddy, love me back...as I love you. Oh!" She then came all over his crotch.

She thoroughly smeared her come in her rectum, then slowly sat back down on him, feeding his cock up her ass. As she went up and down on his cock, Candice came back into the living room.

At first, Candice's intense high blurred her vision of what she saw; she liked that blurring!

No, Candice thought; that's the priest, not Mr. Mennon. Please, God, let that be the priest! Then she used Nigrovum to clear her mind and her vision. She wished she hadn't.

Camilla took Agape's cock out of her ass, then brought her head down on it. Before putting it in her mouth, she said, "Oh, Daddy!"

Camilla gluttonously swallowed her father's cock, deep-throating it. As she took his cock all the way in and pulled it half the way out, in and out, in and out, over and over again, Candice put on her clothes, got her purse, and left the house sobbing.

Camilla looked up at her father's seemingly impassive face as she continued sucking him off. If only you would show me pleasure in your eyes, Daddy, she thought; I only want to give you pleasure.

He looked down at his daughter as her mouth went up and down on his cock. Always psychically controlling his erection, she made him come in her mouth; she swallowed it all. Then she pulled up his pants and underwear, zipped him up, had him sit back on his chair, and put the old towels away.

My sense of the horror at what you just did may be temporarily suspended, Camilla, he thought; but we'll be having a serious talk about this tomorrow, your last day to live in my house.



Camilla Ch. 081



Late on Tuesday night, after Camilla had finished committing incest with Agape, he used his psychic powers to put himself completely to sleep; a deep sleep would put that whole sordid affair out of his mind...for a while, at least. He wasn't yet ready to confront his daughter with his awareness of her surreptitious lewdness. 

In his dream, he saw Collette in the mansion, now burning, with the sight of groups of naked lovers engaging in group sex all around him and his ex-wife. 

"I'm so sorry, Aga," she said. "Camilla's always been a bad girl."

"She wasn't before our divorce," he insisted. "I'm sure her seeing you and your swinger friends over the years since our divorce is what made her what she is today."

"It was more than that," she said. "I tried to control her. I thought putting her in an all-girls Catholic high school would make up for what she'd seen all those early years. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. She's out of control."

Behind her, Agape could see a group of men in grotesque masks laughing eerily at him.

*****************

On Wednesday morning, he woke up sitting on his living room chair, where Camilla had left him. His lap was wet with her remaining come: in her wasted state the night before, she'd forgotten to clean him up properly. With this mess, he could at least prove his case against her, and stop her lies and denials once and for all.

By separating and distancing him from his feelings and moral judgement, that 'psychic window' he'd created to watch her fucking him the night before was still protecting him from the emotional pain of what she'd done. Nonetheless, he would have to remove that window, and face his trauma: being jaded and emotionless about what she'd done was as wicked an attitude as the deed was. Apathy was a totally unacceptable reaction to his unwitting incest with her. Apathy was a terrible emotion to begin with. As horrible as it would be to feel their shame with all his emotions unrestrained, he still had to confront his feelings...he had to have feelings about what she'd done, or else he wouldn't be human.

First, he called the English faculty at York and told them he was sick, and wouldn't be able to teach his classes that day. Then he went up into his bedroom, sat on his bed, and meditated. 

He visualized smashing the 'glass' of that psychic window; it took all of his bravery to do so. After a minute of intense concentration, the barrier that had been protecting his ego from his moral judgement was shattered, and he felt his shame flooding all over himself in an awesome tsunami. The eyes and mouth of Agape were agape with the horror of it all.

"Oh, my God!" he screamed. "How could she do that to me?! Why? Why?" He was wailing, sobbing, and shaking all over.

Camilla woke up in her bedroom with a start at his crying. She covered her nakedness with a bathrobe and ran into his bedroom. Already, she correctly sensed what the problem was, but she wasn't at all willing to admit her fault in it.

"Daddy," she said, coming up to him. "Are you OK? Try to calm down. Whatever you do, don't think despairing thoughts, or be afraid. Whatever the problem is, we can make it better." She brought her hand up to his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled. "Never touch me!"

"Yes, sir," she said timidly, backing up with fear, and knowing exactly what he meant by that.

He took a minute to calm down. Then he looked her in the eyes and said, "Camilla, I know what you've been doing with me."

"Wait, Daddy, do you mean when you saw Candice on top of you last night? It was--"

"Don't lie to me! Stop pretending you're innocent. Admit what you did. It was you, not her."

"Wh-what you saw...was a dream." She was crying.

"Come on, Camilla. That lie is getting so old. I'm wet all over my lap. None of it is me. It's all you, and you know it."

"Let...let me explain. I--"

"Ever since you returned to my life, I've been developing...some kind of strange power. Suddenly, I can cure my own hangovers in a heartbeat, just by wishing them away. You once cured a hangover of mine, I remember, by simply tapping me on the shoulder; the pain was gone in seconds. This mental anguish you've caused me, though, it won't go away so easily."

"It would if you stopped thinking of it as a sin. Open--"

"Ridiculous!" he snapped. "Without the need of this power, I've suspected that you were doing what you were doing, but I kept hoping my suspicions weren't true. Now I can't deny it any more."

"Daddy," she said in sobs, "This power can heal your shame, too."

"I don't want it to! We should be ashamed of ourselves, otherwise, we're not human. But this power, it allows me to...read minds, it seems, or at least sense people's thoughts. I sense that you can, too. I can influence people's thoughts...I know you can, too, but I don't know how we can do this. This power is...sexually transmitted, isn't it?"

"You can do good things with it, though..."

"That's how I got this power, didn't I? You passed it on to me through your...oh, God, ejaculations?"

"Oh, Daddy,..."

"Tell me the truth, dammit!" he shouted.

"Let me explain,..." Camilla said, shaking.

"Tell me!"

"Yes!  Daddy, yes! I love you, Daddy. I've always loved you. These things inside me made me love you even more, though. I--I tried to fight it, but I couldn't. I'm in love with you. I know it seems sick, but..."

"Seems sick? It is sick!" he cried, his face drowning in tears. "You're in love with me, but you have lesbian sex with Candice, right in front of me? You took a man up to your bedroom a month ago and had sex with him, and you've been 'in love' with me the whole time, the last man on earth you should be in love with?"

"I--I can't control myself," she said, also with a face drenched in tears. "These things, they make me always want sex; I starve for it every day." 

"What are 'these things'?" he asked, now no longer crying.

"They're in our blood, tiny, microscopic black ovoid things."

"Bacteria? A virus of some kind?"

"I don't know," she said, calming down and no longer crying. "A doctor I know in Vancouver who also has them in his blood thinks they're aliens from another planet."

Agape rolled his eyes and said, "I don't know what planet I'm on right now."

"Daddy? Can I have a hug?" She timidly approached him.

"No," he said firmly, putting out his hand and psychically creating a force field to block her.

"Just an innocent hug, Daddy. Please? Nothing sexual."

"No!"

"Please don't keep me from you. Let me kiss your mouth. I love you." She tried breaking the barrier, but he kept it strong. "Let me kiss your mouth. Daddy, please! I'll die of despair if I never touch you again!"

"Camilla, you're sick. Sick in your mind. I'm arranging for you to see a psychiatrist as soon as possible. You're also moving out."

"No, Daddy. Please!" she yelled, crying again. 

"Carrie is moving in, and she and I are engaged to be married." 

"Oh, God, no! Not her! Please, Daddy. Don't marry her; she isn't right for you."

"Oh, and you are, eh?" he asked with a sneer.

"Daddy, she's old, and I'm young. I'm a much better lover than she could ever be, and I have a really nice body. Let me show it to you." She started undoing her bathrobe. 

"No, I don't want to see," he said, psychically freezing her hands and not letting her open the robe to display her nudity.

"Daddy, please don't marry her. Don't make me leave. I couldn't bear it! I wanna be your lover."

"No!"

"Please! Open your mind to it! We can keep our love a secret. Nobody will ever know."

"I will know! We will know!" he shouted, crying again.

"It's only society that says incest is wrong!"

"God says it's wrong!"

"No! That's just the rules of the Church, not God."

"Nonsense!"

"Please open your mind to what I can do for you," she said frantically. "I can make you feel so good in bed, Daddy. I can drive you wild, be any fantasy you dream about. I'll be faithful, too. I'll give up all my other lovers for you."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" he asked. 

"Open your mind, please! Homosexuality used to be condemned, now gays can get married. Who knows? Maybe in a few decades, people can come to accept our kind of love."

"You're positively insane," he said in sobs. "Oh, my poor baby girl!"

"Don't marry Carrie, please! She could never love you the way I do. She could never please you in bed the way I can." She gritted her teeth and smiled lewdly at him. "Believe me, I am such a little whore under the sheets."

"Stop it!" he shouted, slapping her. "Shut up!" 

"I--I love you so much." She sobbed softly.

"You don't know anything about love. With you, it's all sex and no love. How could you do such a filthy thing to me? How could you even want to?"

"I just wanted to please you."

"Please me? You've shamed me. You've shamed me. You've shamed both of us." He started walking toward the bedroom door.

"Please, Daddy, let me convince you."

"We're not having this conversation! Today is your last day in this house." He went out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the house to get in his car.

She buckled down to the ground, shaking. That heavy weight was on her back again, like a pile of rocks holding her down. She knew that without Agape, she would plunge into despair; that would lead to her death, and an eternal nightmare of being gang-raped by masked incubi and those Vancouver punks. Fucking, forever and ever and ever. Even she needed a rest from that from time to time. As hopeless as the situation seemed to be, she couldn't allow herself to despair. 

She reminded herself that she had been given a great, divine gift, the power of the 'sons of God'. Nigrovum had given her abilities most people couldn't even dream of. She wasn't defeated yet; she just had to bring that power of hers to its fullest potential. She had to use her imagination and think of a subtle plan, a brilliant plan to get Agape to love her, accept having an incestuous relationship with her, and remove all other hurdles to the realization of their love. 

She kept the hope in her mind that he had the same sexual feelings for her, deep down in his subconscious--those feelings just hadn't surfaced yet. She used this desperate hope to raise her spirits, inch by inch, and to remove those psychic 'rocks' on her back that were weighing her down. 

She could feel herself less and less weighed down, and she slowly regained her strength, and got up from the floor. Sensing how her father had dealt with the trauma of knowing what she'd done, she decided to do the same thing with her own emotional pain: she put psychic dome around herself, a barrier that would shield her from the agony of his rejection. This would allow her to have the patience she'd need to think clearly and come up with a plan to get him back. 

Indeed, she reassured herself that she would get him back, and get him to love her in the same physical way as she loved him. The first obstacle to be rid of was, of course, Carrie...

****************

Agape was in his car, just driving and driving aimlessly down some open roads. As he was driving, he searched for a radio station that would play some music that could help him take his mind of what Camilla had done; instead, all he got were cruel reminders. First, he heard 'Young Girl', by Gary Puckett.

'My love for you is way out of line.' 

"No, I don't want to hear that," he said, and quickly changed stations. 

Then he heard 'Don't Stand So Close to Me', by the Police.

'This girl is half his age.' 

"Oh, God," he said, and immediately switched to another station, an alternative station that played oldies. 

He heard 'Brown Shoes Don't Make It', by Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention.

The drummer lecherously said, 'If she were my daughter, I'd...'

"Oh, I give up!" he shouted, turning the radio off. What's the attraction? he thought; Why would Camilla have incestuous feelings for me? Am I simply forbidden fruit? Surely a pretty girl like her would much rather have a handsome young man instead of an aging man like me, father or no father. Maybe when she sees a psychiatrist, we'll get some answers.

He eventually drove to his church. He went inside, and went inside a confessional. 

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned..." he began.

*****************

Once Camilla had completely calmed down, she called Father Josiah.

"Hello?" he said on his cell-phone.

"It's me, Camilla. Do you still want me, Father?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," he eagerly said.

"I know this is sudden, but can I move in with you?"

"Yes, yes, of course. When do you want to come over?"

"Is tomorrow OK?"

"I already can't wait," he said. "Come here with all your things in the morning."

"Thanks, Father," she said. "I'll be at your door around 11 AM. Bye."

His hopes of marrying her, and saving her soul (as well as redeeming his) were suddenly resurrected. 

"Thank you, Lord," he said, looking upwards.

*****************

On Thursday morning, Camilla brought her bag of things with her to Father Josiah's home. They went into his bedroom, she put the bag down, and they sat on the bed, her on his lap. 

He sensed her emotional numbness, and correctly feeling that it was unhealthy, he tried to break her psychic 'dome' down. She wouldn't let him at first, but knowing that her tears would likely make him want to fuck her, the sex-starved girl removed the dome herself. 

She started crying; he held her tightly in his arms, and rocked her back and forth on his lap. "Tell me all about it, sweetie," he said soothingly. "What happened at home?" 

"I had a fight with my daddy," she sobbed, her head on his shoulder. "He doesn't want me to live with him anymore. I'll go crazy without him."

"Well, you're with me now," he said. Though he knew what the problem was between her and Agape, he was hoping for a confession from her. "What happened between you and your father?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. Please hold me, Father. Hold me."

"Of course, sweetie," he said, hugging her tighter and trying to ignore his erection. "I quit the priesthood yesterday, so our love wouldn't be sinful."

"What?" she asked, pulling back. "But that makes you less sexy to me."

"I can become an Anglican vicar, if you like."

"Oh, let's just make love."

"Alright," he said, and they started getting undressed. "Why's your hair all black?"

"Remember that power we both have?" she asked, unzipping her green, flower-patterned dress.

"Yeah."

"It made my hair and eyes turn black. That's why my skin is paler, too." Her dress dropped to the floor. She kicked off her high heels; wearing no underwear, she was now naked. "If you don't like the way I look, I can change it back." She got on the bed on her back.

"No, that's OK," he said, now naked too. "Black is a nice change, I think. Besides, I'm getting a little black myself. You should see my fingernails and toenails." He got on top of her in the missionary position. She lifted her legs up, ready to receive his cock in either hole. He, of course, would only choose her vagina, and he slowly slid his cock inside. 

As it went in deeper and deeper, her sobs changed to sighs of pleasure. He got all the way in, and she squealed with delight. This was the first cock she'd felt inside her since she'd fucked her father. For the time being, Father Josiah would have to do as a substitute. He slid his cock in and out several times, and she came all over the sheets. "Ah!"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot...about your gushing," he said, still moving in and out of her pussy. "Oh!"

"Just keep...fucking me. Ah!"

"Please, watch your language," he moaned. "Unh!"

"Don't stop. Oh!" She came a second time.

He put his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them. He reached over and pecked her on the lips. "I'm...almost there," he sighed.

"Pull it out. Oh!"

"OK," he said, and slowly let his cock slide out of her soaking wet pussy. She sat up and took his cock in her hand. She jerked him off, pointing the tip of his cock at her belly. Her gentle hand slid back and forth along his shaft. Then he spouted all over her right tit, her belly, her black pubic hair, and her thigh. 

They lay next to each other on their backs and cuddled. After a minute or so of them catching their breath, she said, "Thank you, Father. I needed that." She reset that psychic 'dome'.

"So did I, as sinful as it was," he said. "It would have been better if I'd...discharged inside you, though."

Exploiting his foolish hopes, she said, "But we can't do that unless we're married."

He smiled slightly at those words. She would say no more, though: she was playing her cards very carefully.

***************

On Friday, Camilla, with her hair blonde again, and wearing heavy makeup and a tight-fitting black dress, went to see Dr. Marlow Rosenblood, a psychiatrist in his late forties. Camilla didn't at all want to bare her soul to such a man, but she went anyway, out of a wish to show obedience to her father, now the only way she could show him her love. She was delighted, however, to see how good-looking the psychiatrist was, tall and thin, with streaks of silver in his wavy brown hair. 

I do pick the right days to dress like a slut, she thought. 

She sat on a chair facing him. He had a notebook and a pen in his hands. 

"OK, Camilla," Dr. Rosenblood began. "Feel free to say anything you like. Do not feel at all inhibited. Even if you say rude things, I won't care. Let your natural feelings flow: that way I can better understand your thought processes."

"I can even say things that are...possibly offensive?" she asked in disbelief.

"If you don't like my tie, or my nose, feel free to say so. Even antisemitic remarks won't bother me."

"Wow, you're really secure, aren't you?"

"You can say nice things, too, of course. The point is, whatever's on your mind, just say it. Don't be shy." 

"OK," she said, getting up and moving towards him slowly, with a lewd smile. "You tell me: what's on my mind?"

"You can say anything, not do anything," he said, motioning to her to go back to her chair.

"Oh, come on, Doctor. Let's have some fun. I won't tell if you don't."

"Camilla, why don't you take a look at the photo on my desk?" he suggested.

She looked at the picture: it showed Rosenblood hugging a man.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, backing off. Then she paused thoughtfully, and tried her cat moves on him again. "I'll bet, in the right circumstances, a woman could bring the animal out of you." She was kneeling before his chair, her fingers tickling his hands. She also started using Nigrovum on him to give him an erection.

Surprised at what was happening, Rosenblood nonetheless used strong willpower to resist her. "A tiger can't change his stripes, Camilla."

"He can crawl into a different cave every now and then, though."

"Camilla," he said firmly, taking her hands and pushing them back. "Back in your chair, please."

She went back and sat on her chair like a petulant, spoiled child.

"You obviously use your sexuality to hide your real self from people. I'm here to uncover the secrets of your mind; you just want to uncover your body. Even when you learn that I'm gay, you try to convince me to spend a 'straight' night with you. You want to avoid talking about your problems so much, you'll stop at nothing to use sex to change the subject."

"Yeah, whatever," she said, pouting and avoiding his eyes.

"When your father insisted on making our appointment as soon as possible, I could hear a lot of anxiety in his voice," the psychiatrist said. "Why don't you tell me about your relationship with him? Or, if your prefer, perhaps it would be easier if you talked instead about your mother. What about her?"




Camilla Ch. 081



Camilla looked intensely in Rosenblood's eyes and sent this message to his mind: You won't be able to fit my therapy sessions into your busy schedule, Doctor. You must refer me to another psychiatrist--a handsome, straight man your age who would be happy to seduce me. 

"Well," Rosenblood said, "since you seem unwilling to talk to me, perhaps I can refer you to another doctor I know. He may be able to fit you in for sessions as soon as next week. I'm too busy with my own full schedule anyway."

"Anything you say, Doctor," she said. 

*****************

That evening at about 9:00, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Camilla went with Agape and Carrie to Giovanni's for dinner. Business was slow that night; the three of them were the only customers in the whole restaurant. Camilla was in a tight, slinky red dress, high heels, and her usual whore-bright makeup with red lipstick. 

"So, how was your session with Dr. Rosenblood, Camilla?" Carrie asked.

"Oh, fine," Camilla said coolly.

"Thanks for recommending him on such short notice, Carrie; but he won't be able to give her therapy," Agape said. "He did, however, refer us to another psychiatrist, Dr. Mason, who has time. He'll be able to start her therapy next Wednesday."

"Good," Carrie said. 

"I'm glad to see you again, sweetie," he said to Camilla. "I'd like us to spend more time together like this, all three of us."

"Me, too," Carrie said. "We can get to know each other better."

"Yeah, sure," Camilla said, trying her best to hide her annoyance at the affection Agape was showing his fiancee. 

The waiter came to take their order. As Agape and Carrie ordered their food, Camilla, desperate for a lover, sent out a psychic signal to Patrick. 

Come to Giovanni's, Patrick; have some fun here.

Camilla then ordered her food, and the three of them continued chatting as they waited for their meals. The psychic 'dome' Camilla had put around herself was particularly useful to her that night, for emotional numbness was exactly what she'd need to get through that night, watching the man she was in love with showing affection to a woman she was hating more and more by the minute. 

Within twenty minutes, Patrick came, but to Camilla's annoyance, he brought his wife. 

They were seated at a table halfway across the room from where Camilla was. She eyed Patrick, who looked back at her with a mixture of arousal and nervousness. 

"I have to go to the washroom," she said, then got up. As she walked towards the washroom, she looked at Patrick again, using Nigrovum to 'pull' him up from his seat. She went around a corner to the part of the restaurant that led to where the washrooms were.

"I--I have to use the washroom, honey," Patrick told his wife.

"You just went before we came here," she said.

"I know, but I still have to go," he said, then got up and hurried toward the washroom. 

She watched with suspicion as he went around the corner. 

Patrick saw Camilla standing by the washroom doors.

In her ditzy 'Dolly' persona, she said, "Hi."

"Hi," he said nervously. "I keep running into you."

"Yeah," she said with a giggle. "Wanna see me bare-naked?"

"As much as I'd like to, my--"

"OK," she said, and unzipped her dress, dropping it to the floor; then she kicked off her high heels. Not wearing any underwear, she was now naked.

With his hands on her hips, he said, "We're gonna get in trouble, you know. My wife almost caught us last time in the park."

"We won't get into any trouble," Camilla said, closing her eyes and visualizing a light blue force field where the corner was; no customers would be able to come around the corner--only the staff could. Also, once any of the staff came around the corner, their sense of judgement would be suspended. They'd watch, and simply enjoy. 

"Your 'psychic powers' again?"

"Mm-hmm."

"When are you going to explain to me how this power of yours works?"

"When we have time. Quick: touch me between the legs, and touch my poo-poo hole. You know you want to."

"OK," he said, wrapping his hands around her buttocks and opening them up. His fingers then crawled into the crack to find her asshole. With one finger rubbing against her anal orifice, he brought his other hand back and put it on her crotch, fingering her clitoris. She sighed softly at his gently vibrating fingers, and held her buttocks open so his finger would always have access to her asshole. 

As he was feeling her up, two young waiters came around the corner and saw the stimulated naked girl. 

"Holy shit," one of them whispered.

"You got your cell-phone?" the other said.

"Yep," said the first one.

"FIlm this, I beg of you."

"Sure thing." The first waiter got his cell-phone out of his pocket, set it to video camera, and pointed it at the two bold lovers. 

Camilla saw the men watching, and was happy to let them watch. Her pussy was getting wetter and wetter, and Patrick's fingers went deep inside her vagina and rectum. He squatted down and took her left nipple in his mouth. He wrapped his wet lips around it tightly and sucked away. She let out high-pitched sighs. She stroked the bulge in the groin of his pants with her foot. 

The waiters got bolder and came closer to get better video of her body. She pressed Patrick's face against her breasts, not wanting him to know they were being filmed. 

"I'm gonna come," she sighed.  "Oh!"

The waiter with the cell-phone squatted down so he could get video of her coming. Patrick pulled his finger out of her asshole, and had both hands between her legs in a cup, catching all her come in them. He brought his hands up to his face and drank it. 

Amazing, the waiter thought as he finished filming; how thoughtful of them not to leave a mess for us to clean up. By the time Patrick had finished gulping down Camilla's come, the waiters had snuck away, never seen by Patrick, who was now licking his hands. 

"Thanks," Camilla said as she reached for her dress. "I needed that. We'd better get back to our tables."

"Yeah," Patrick said. "I gotta wash my hands first, though." He quickly went into the washroom and washed his hands while Camilla put her clothes back on. When she was fully decent, she removed the force field. Patrick came out of the washroom, and the two of them went back to their tables. 

Patrick's wife didn't smile to see him come back with sexy Camilla returning at the same time, though. 

******************

On Saturday night, Candice begged Camilla to go home with her from Club Ritz. She had finally got up the courage to confront Camilla with her having committed incest with her father.

As soon as the two black-haired, black-eyed girls got inside Candice's apartment, and she'd locked the door, she said, "Camil, I know what you've been doing with your dad."

"Oh, come on. You were seeing things, Candice," Camilla said as she started taking off her clothes. "You were stoned, as usual."

"Don't lie to me!" Candice shouted.

"Don't yell at me," Camilla said. "I've had enough of that this week, fighting with my dad."

"Admit the truth, Camil. I saw you on top of him during the Hallowe'en party." Candice was not undressing at all.

Camilla sighed, then said, "Look, Candice, I love him. I'm in love with him. I know how that sounds, but..."

"I love you!" Candice shouted. "I'm in love with you! You don't know how much you hurt me! You always hurt me! I'm a dope fiend, because that's the only way I can deal with the pain of your cheating. You said before you only feel desire, and can't love; now, all of a sudden, you're in love. With your fucking dad?"

"Candice, people will hear." Camilla had stripped down to her black lace underwear.

"I don't fucking care! I hope they do hear! You're sick. You're fucking sick! This Nigrovum in our blood! It's making us crazy, as I knew it would. I'm a junkie, and you're fucking your own dad! And you're 'in love' with him? You can't love anyone! It's all sex and no love with you. I became a stripper, something I never thought I'd do, all because of you. I do all that degrading shit on stage, showing my pussy to male pigs, all because I think it will bring me closer to you. I left my home in Vancouver, getting my whole family mad at me, just so I could always be near you. I've been living here in this apartment all alone, and I can't touch you anymore, except with men at Club Ritz staring at our lovemaking, and you occasionally visiting me here. Your dad kicked you out of his house, and who do shack up with? Not with me, of course not: but with who? A fucking priest? And he's leaving the priesthood for you! Everyone makes sacrifices for you, but you just take. You're so fucking selfish, Camilla! You don't care about anyone but yourself!" Candice was shaking and loudly sobbing, overwhelmed by a rage that Nigrovum was only making hotter. 

Camilla, always emotionally numbed in that safe psychic dome, was now naked. She walked up to Candice and visualized a large ice cube in her hand. She touched Candice on the shoulder, imagining that 'ice cube' would absorb all the heat of Candice's anger, calming her down. Gradually, she did calm down, then Camilla started visualizing her friend's body vibrating with sexual excitement. 

Candice, starving from a lack of Camilla's touch, more than willingly let her change her despair into desire. As Candice's body vibrated more and more, Camilla helped her take off her clothes. The two naked girls then went into Candice's bedroom and got on the bed in a 69 position, with Camilla on top. 

As Camilla licked Candice's clitoris and slid her finger in and out of her cunt, Camilla thought to herself: See, I still use Nigrovum for good.

Candice sucked on Camilla's labia as though she were famished. She fingered Camilla's asshole, and gently poked and slid her finger inside her rectum. Camilla's finger rubbed against Candice's G-spot, and Candice slipped her tongue as deep inside Camilla's cunt as she could, to return the favour. Candice's finger was deep inside Camilla's rectum, stimulating the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. 

Both girls' pussies were the wettest they'd been since the beginning of their lesbian relationship, not, of course, out of an increasing love on Camilla's part, though, but out of her own sexual starvation. Candice's free hand reached over and fondled Camilla's left breast, squeezing the nipple. 

Finally, Camilla came all over Candice's face. What she hadn't caught in her mouth, she licked off her face and the fingers that wiped the come off her nose and eyes. Candice herself came soon after, and Camilla licked away the ooze from her vagina. 

The girls lay beside each other in bed, cuddling and catching their breath. 

Candice looked over at Camilla and whispered in her ear, "What can I do to make you love me, Camil?"

Camilla whispered her answer in Candice's ear.

Candice frowned and paused for a second; then she said angrily, "Get out."

Still in her state of numb apathy, Camilla coldly said, "If you want me back,..."

"Get out!" Candice screamed.

Camilla quickly got dressed and rushed out of the apartment to the noise of Candice's incessant screaming. All the neighbours on her floor, not least of all the fat young man, came out of their rooms and watched the excitement. Camilla called a taxi and went back to Josiah's home.

Candice got out her heroin. "What can I do to win her love?" she asked in sobs. "What does she say? Kill Carrie." 



Camilla Ch. 082



Don Josiah, in a suit, was driving black-haired, black-eyed Camilla--who was wearing her green, flowery dress--back to his home after church that Sunday afternoon; he was thinking about the sermon, and she was thinking about his cock.

"So, that's what an Anglican church service is like," he said as he parked at his home. They got out of the car. "That homily was surprisingly good. I'm glad I opened my mind to the Episcopal Church; I took us there originally because I didn't want to see the parishioners of our old Catholic church gossiping when they saw us together. Of course, I was also considering becoming an Anglican minister for your sake." He unlocked the door to his home, and they went inside.

"Aren't you still thinking about it, Father?" Camilla asked.

"Please, Camilla; I'm not a priest anymore. Call me Don," he said as they went into the bedroom. "And actually, I don't think I want to be a preacher anymore." They started undressing.

"But how will you make money to live? What else can you do?" She was in her white bra and panties.

"Oh, I'll think of something--teaching, maybe. The point is, that sermon really made me want to rethink my life. Why did I become a priest, in the first place? Not for God, but for my mother. You realized that long ago. I was putting her before God--well, not anymore. Loving and idolizing the petty things of this world is exactly what's wrong with this world; people don't love God, by which I mean not the God of this denomination or that one. In fact, I wonder if it even matters if loving God means being a part of this religion or that one, or being a part of any religion. I'm starting to think that loving God really means loving wisdom and truth. Something inside me--I don't know what--is making me think differently about the world."

Nigrovum is, of course, Camilla thought.

She was now naked, lying on the bed, and yawning from listening to Don's prolixity.

"That minister really did a good interpretation of the meaning of the ten commandments," he continued, pulling open a dresser drawer to put something in it; Camilla looked in and saw a pistol and a small box of bullets. She was no longer bored with him. "He really expanded the meaning of--"

"You have a gun? Wow," she interrupted, pretending to have only innocuous curiosity.

"Yeah," he said, pulling off his underwear and lying naked on the bed next to her. "I go to a target practice area sometimes and shoot the gun; it helps relieve my stress."

"Cool," she said. Knowing he could psychically sense her darker thoughts, she refrained from thinking them. "What else did you like about the sermon?" She pecked him on the cheek, and he pulled the blankets over them.

"I really liked the minister's expanding of the meaning of not taking the Lord's name in vain to the idea of not saying hurtful words in general." He got on top of her in the missionary position.

How about not saying boring words in general? she thought.

"And when he expanded 'thou shalt not kill' into how we all kill each other a little every day with our mean remarks, gossip, and petty selfishness. Truly inspirational. I'll never be prejudiced against Protestants--or any other denomination, or even any other religion--again. We can learn a little something from all of them." As he embraced and kissed her on the lips, his penis grew erect.

Good, she thought; if you're going to worship other gods, worship me, the goddess Camilla.

She raised her legs up to receive his cock, and he slid it inside her wet pussy. As it brushed against her G-spot, she squealed with delight. Then he pushed in further; when he got all the way in and poked his knob against her A-spot, she squealed higher and louder. After a few more pokes, he made her orgasm. Her come was all over the sheets.

"I must remember...to put...old towels...on the bed," he grunted as he continued fucking her. "Unh!"

"I'll clean it...up after," she sighed. "Ah!"

"No, I'll help. Oh!"

"You're so...sweet, Father. Ah!" She came a second time.

"Call me...Don. Unh!"

He's sweet, she thought; but boring, especially as a non-priest. If this is what monogamy is like, I'll die within a month of marriage to him. I could be faithful only to Daddy; I must get rid of Carrie as soon as possible.

"I'm almost there," he moaned.

"Pull it out," she sighed. "Oh!"

He pulled his cock out of her pussy, and she sat up, holding his cock in her hand. She jerked him off, pointing his cock at her belly.

"Sperm shouldn't...be wasted," he panted.

"Does God get quite irate?" she asked.

"Don't blaspheme."

"I thought you weren't Catholic anymore."

He sprayed his come all over her belly: some in her navel, some dripping down onto her black pubic hair. They then lay on their backs on the bed, and cuddled.

"It's the little things we do to hurt each other," Don said. "We must be careful of them."

Oh, God, not the sermon again, she thought; I hope he's psychically sensing how bored I am with his gabbing.

He was sensing her boredom, but he refused to stop. "What a gifted preacher. If we don't correct the little sins, they'll grow into big ones." Remembering how her lust had grown into incest, he added, "Isn't that true, Camilla?"

"Of course, Father, I mean, Don," she said, staring at the dresser but carefully keeping her mind blank.

"We can reverse the bad, too, though, can't we?" he said, hoping she would reverse her apathy as well as her insatiability. "And I can help you turn your wild ways around, and make an honest woman of you, putting those dark chapters of your life behind you."

And be boring like you? she thought; no way.

"I'm tired," he said, weary of trying unsuccessfully to inspire her to do good. "I'm taking a nap." He'd try to edify her later.

She waited for him to fall fully asleep. When he did, she got out of bed and stood in front of his dresser drawer.

Good, she thought; Now I can think freely. She opened the drawer and stared at the gun and box of bullets, never touching them. She used Nigrovum to 'feel' the shape, mass, texture, and every component of the pistol and bullets. Her photographic memory would be her future reference.

She doubted in the extreme that she could get Josiah to shoot Carrie, though she'd threaten to end their relationship if he refused. What was more important to her was knowing how to visualize those exact bullets, and that gun, so the police would think he'd killed Carrie.

I can use Nigrovum to control minds, she thought; I can use it to change the colour of any part of my body. I can even shape-shift to look like the woman I want dead. I can alter the form of already-existing things. Can I replicate them? Can I create something out of nothing? Ex nihilo? I can create force fields from my imagination; can I create bullets from my imagination? I wonder if I could even shoot them without a gun?

She got dressed, wrote a note for Josiah saying she'd gone to the library to study, and left. She sent a text message to Mr. Berman, saying she wanted to get together with him as soon as possible.

Don woke up a half hour later. He'd been dreaming that Camilla was loading his pistol, and both she and he were surrounded by laughing masked men.

He got out of bed and opened his dresser drawer. He looked at his gun and box of bullets.

"No," he said to himself. "She didn't take anything; but I sense she's interested in them."

****************

On Monday night, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Camilla went over to Berman's house for dinner. In her usual whore-bright makeup, she was wearing her revealing dark blue evening gown, the one that showed off her breast and buttock cleavage.

His housemates were at their girlfriends' homes, so he and Camilla had the house to themselves. He let her in with a cool look in his eyes that was thawed only by how exciting she looked in that dress. He led her to the dinner table to eat.

"So, where'd you take off to?" he asked, barely concealing his anger at her having left his Hallowe'en party so early. "I'd been really hoping to spend more time with you that night." He served the meal, chicken casserole, and they began eating.

"A family emergency. Sorry," she said. "But I'll make it up to you tonight--I promise."

Not believing her lame excuse one bit, but nonetheless hoping for some good sex that night, he said, "You've got my hopes up: don't let me down."

"I won't," she said. She could psychically sense his fixating on her, and hoping to marry her, as Josiah did; to redeem himself. She would exploit that weakness in both men. "In fact, if you can do me a big, big favour, I'll be true to you for life."

"True to me?"

"Absolutely." The actress in her was overriding her insincerity completely. "I'll be yours forever, if you do me one big favour."

"OK, what's this favour?"

"Ask me again, after we fuck tonight. I want you to experience the real Camilla, me as a lover at my full potential. When I blow you, I'll blow your mind. When you're awed at my divinity, then I'll ask the favour--as a test of how true you can be to me."

"OK," he said. "By the way, how'd you and your gay friend get up the guts to come to my party half-naked like that? And I'd like to know how most of my male guests weren't crowding you so much."

"Well," she said. "I have special powers."

"You sure do."

"No, really. I have psychic abilities. I can control minds, among other things."

"You expect me to believe that?" he asked.

"Do you have a better explanation for how I avoided being gang-raped by a crowd of drunk guys that night?" she asked.

"Well, no."

After dinner, they went up to his bedroom. She dropped her dress to the floor, kicked off her high heels, then twirled around for his hungry eyes to feast on her lovely, peach-skinned nakedness. He sat on the bed and pulled off his pants. With her back to him, she spread her legs and bent over; he leaned forward to get a closer look at her pink pussy and brown asshole. Once he was naked, he started licking her pussy and asshole; she sighed her thanks. After a minute or so of sucking her labia and clitoris, and of kissing and licking both holes, he got on the bed on his back.

She then got on top of him in the cowgirl position. She held his cock up, aiming it at her slowly descending cunt. She sighed higher and louder as it slid inside. When it was all the way in, she let out a loud squeal, then she started bouncing up and down on him, puffing out staccato sighs with each bounce. She came after five bounces.

He looked up at his bouncing shiksa goddess, admiring her beauty as he fucked her. Though he had every reason to doubt her fidelity to him, even after he was to do her that 'big favour', he was still lucky to be able to fuck so beautiful a girl, the one who had got him into so much trouble when she was a child, all because of one fateful kiss in his classroom almost a decade before. She came again, soaking his thighs.

"Wanna fuck...my ass?" she squealed. "Ah!"

"Yeah," he moaned. She got off of him, and lay on the bed on all fours with her legs spread open so he could see her asshole. He used her come to lubricate her rectum, then pushed the tip of his cock against her opening anus.

Her eyes were squinty, and her mouth was as agape as her asshole as he pushed it further inside. She looked back at him with welcoming eyes.

Fully inside now, he started thrusting in and out. She moaned softly with each thrust. He reached around her waist and fingered her hard clitoris as he continued fucking her ass.

"Thank you," she groaned. "Oh!"

"My pleasure," he moaned. "Ah!"

After another minute of butt-fucking, she asked, "Want some...ass to...mouth?"

"OK."

He pulled his cock out of her ass, and she got off the bed. He sat on the side of the bed, and she knelt between his legs. She took his cock, still dripping with her come on it, in her mouth. She looked up in his eyes as her wet lips slid back and forth along his rock-hard shaft. He looked down at this pagan goddess who was working so hard to give him pleasure, sure that he'd gladly do whatever it was that she wanted him to do.

"Oh, oh, oh!" he moaned. "I'm gonna blow!"

He soon shot several powerful blasts in her mouth; she never took her eyes off his as she swallowed all of his jizz. Then they lay together on the bed on their backs, slowly catching their breath.

"What an...incredible lay," he panted.

"Glad you...liked it," she sighed.

"Now, this favour?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "What would you do for me?"

"Anything, goddess. I totally need you; I'd die without you. Name it, and I'll do it for you."

"Really? You'd do anything for my love?"

"Yes. Absolutely. I love you. To the death. What do you want?"

"Well," she began. "My father, whom I love more than anything, was terribly betrayed by my evil mother back when I was a little girl. She cheated on him many times, divorced him, got custody of me by fraudulently claiming he'd molested me--I mean, really, the sweetest man in the whole world."

"I can sympathize with him, given what happened to me when you were my student," Berman said. "What's this favour you want from me?"

"I need time to explain. Daddy's met this new woman--Carrie. Ugh! They're 'in love', and he wants to marry her."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Everything. She'll break his heart--I can feel it. She'll ruin his life, as my Mom did."

"How do you know Carrie will ruin him?" Berman asked.

"I...just know, OK?!" Camilla snapped. "My psychic powers help me read minds, and I can sense she's no good for him."

"If you can control minds, why don't you just control her mind, and make her go away?"

"Because Daddy has the power, too. He'd stop me from getting rid of her. But my power is strong enough to make sure the cops don't catch you when you do what I want you to do."

"Cops?!"

"Don't worry. You'll be safe."

"What do you want me to do?" Berman asked.

"Look, I've tried dissuading my daddy from marrying Carrie, but he just won't listen to me. He's still gonna marry her, and when she hurts him, as I'm sure she will, it will destroy him, emotionally. I can't let that happen."

"S-so you want me to..."

"Kill Carrie," Camilla said bluntly.

Berman's jaw dropped. "You're meshuga."

"Only if you do this, will I be your sugar."

"You're nuts," Berman said. "No way I'm risking jail again."

"I thought you said you'd do anything...to the death."

"Jail is worse than death! I got raped there--never again."

"You won't get caught. I have it all planned out. I'll use my power to make the cops think this former priest, Don Josiah, did it. You'll even use his gun," she said.

"No way, forget it." He looked hard in her eyes.

She paused for a few seconds. "OK," she said nonchalantly; then she got out of bed and put on her dress.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. Until you kill Carrie, consider tonight our last lay, and consider me no longer in your life. Bye."

"Wait," he said, jumping out of bed. "Come on, you can't seriously expect me to--"

Sensing he wanted to grab her arm, Camilla psychically put those stars in his ears. The ear-splitting, sopranino squealing brought him down to the floor. He plugged his ears in a futile effort to stop the pain.

"I told you I had psychic powers," she said as she put on her high heels. "Unlimited powers. Remember, I'm a goddess." She then picked up her purse and left.

******************

Late on Tuesday afternoon, after finishing her classes, black-haired, black-eyed Camilla went shopping at the Eaton's Centre. She was wearing a tight white T-shirt under her jacket, as well as tight blue jeans and white running shoes. She'd sensed that Patrick would be there, among the crowd of shoppers, so she went looking for him.

When she saw him from further off, she instantly changed her hair and eyes back to their original blonde and blue, as well as making all her other body parts their original colour. Though Patrick wasn't close enough to see the sudden transformation, everyone around her watched in shock at so extraordinary a sight. Then the surprised people minded their own business and went away.

Seeing Patrick approach, Camilla went into her ditzy 'Dolly' persona. "Hi Patrick," she said with a giggle.

"Hi," he said. "Once again, we meet. Are you meeting me on purpose, Ms. Psychic?"

"Nah," she lied, with another giggle. "It's just luck. And your wife?"

"Not here," he said, "but she's getting suspicious. She thinks we were fooling around in Giovanni's."

"Well, we were." She smiled lewdly at him.

"That's why we've gotta be careful. You're a very sexy girl, Camilla--"

She giggled at the compliment, affecting the attitude of a shy little girl.

"But I love my wife very much," he continued. "I've felt so guilty about what we've been doing, that I make it a point of making love with her after every one of our, ahem, little encounters."

She's got Nigrovum in her blood, Camilla thought.

"Funny thing," he said. "She gets crazier and crazier with her jealousy, after every time we make love. I thought I was making it up to her, but she gets worse instead of better. She says she can feel you on my skin."

"Oh, how silly," Camilla lied.

"I think I can feel you then, too, though I've never told her that, of course. Is that part of your 'psychic power'? Rubbing it off on other people?"

"Of course not," she lied again. "There's no way I can do that. But hey, I wanna buy some new clothes. If you pay for 'em, I'll let you watch me in the change room. I'll get bare-naked and everything. What do you say?"

"Well, the Mrs. isn't here, so what the hell."

"Great," she said as they walked over to a small clothing store. "I love to buy things." She giggled.

"Well, the people I work for love having lots of the stuff that buys things, so I'm used to all that materialism."

The clothing store they went into was owned by a pretty brunette in her mid-twenties. Camilla had made a habit of shopping there; not only because she liked the clothes, but because she could sense the owner was a lesbian who had the hots for Camilla.

She found a black evening gown she liked and went into a tiny fitting room, hanging up her jacket on a hook on the wall. She left the door wide open so not only Patrick but also that woman could watch her undress.

This dress can replace the one I had Sam steal, she thought as she pulled down her jeans. Patrick ogled her pretty light green panties, as did the lesbian, who was rearranging dresses by the fitting room and taking furtive looks. Seated Camilla then took off her shoes and socks, and pulled her feet through the leg holes of her jeans. She used her psychic powers to make Patrick move over a little to the side so the lesbian could have a better look.

Off came Camilla's T-shirt next, exposing her bra-less breasts with a gleeful wiggle. Patrick's prick was poking up against the zipper of his pants: the pain was delightful. The lesbian licked her lips at the sight of Camilla's pink nipples.

She pulled down her panties, revealing her pubic hair in its original light brown colour. She took her feet out of the leg-holes of her panties, then stood up straight so the two voyeurs could see her frontal nudity.

"Ta da!" she said with a giggle. "How do I look?"

"Divine, as always," he said, looking up and down at her breasts and pubic hair. In spite of how unaware he was that the lesbian could see, he then said, "I hope no one else is seeing you; we wouldn't want you to get into trouble."




Camilla Ch. 082



"Oh, that's OK. I don't mind if people see me bare-naked. Even the lady in the shop can look, if she wants," Camilla said, deliberately loud enough for the thrilled lesbian to hear. Her ogling was now getting bolder.

Camilla turned around, spread her legs, and bent over so Patrick and the owner of the shop could see her pink pussy and brown asshole. Camilla looked up at Patrick with eyes that asked him if he liked what he saw.

Because of Camilla's psychic manipulations, Patrick was totally insouciant of whether anyone was watching them or not; so he started fingering her pussy and asshole as if they were in a hotel room. The lesbian owner of the store was similarly oblivious of her surroundings, since Camilla had her just as mesmerized as she had Patrick. Camilla had also created a force field to stop anyone from entering the store and interrupting their pleasure. They all could now freely enjoy themselves.

As Patrick's sensitive fingers massaged and stimulated Camilla's G-spot and the rectal wall that her vaginal wall shared, she visualized those same fingers fingering the cunt and rectum of the lesbian store-owner.

Why should only I enjoy this? Camilla thought; As I've always said, Nigrovum can be used for good, and I don't want to be selfish and greedy.

The lesbian was panting and clutching at herself. What is this incredible sexual experience I'm having? she thought; Never has a naked girl gotten me this horny before.

Camilla reached back between her legs and stroked the bulge in Patrick's pants. He reached over, pulled his finger out of her rectum and started licking her asshole. The finger in her pussy went deeper inside, gently jabbing at her A-spot. Camilla sighed and moaned with pleasure; then she psychically replicated the same sensations for the lesbian, whose A-spot now felt a pleasurable poking, and whose asshole felt like a tongue was tickling it.

What's touching me? she thought, panting and sighing; If this is a succubus, I'm attending seances!

Patrick's two hands were now all over Camilla's pussy, with his fingers tickling her hard clitoris and her tingling G-spot; Camilla gave the lesbian voyeur the same psychic masturbation. Finally, Camilla came in Patrick's cupped hands, which caught almost every drop. He brought his hands up to his face and drank all the come, then licked the remainder off his palms.

The lesbian creamed her panties soon after; luckily she was wearing a dress, so the mess wouldn't be visible to the public. "I need a cigarette," she whispered.

Now that Camilla was satisfied, she finally tried on the black dress. "Do I look sexy in it?" she asked Patrick.

"Camilla, you'd look sexy in a potato bag," he said, drying his hands with a tissue. "OK, take it off, and I'll take it over to the lady to ring up."

"Thanks," she said, taking off the dress and handing it to him. As he walked over to where the cash register was, he hadn't noticed the owner still standing by the fitting room and staring at Camilla's frontal nudity. Camilla just smiled at the woman and let her look.

"Um, Miss?" he said to the owner.

"Oh, uh, sorry," she said, then reluctantly went over to ring up the dress.

Camilla got dressed and went over to them. As the woman put the dress in a bag for her, she shyly avoided looking at the lewd smirk on Camilla's face.

Patrick paid for the dress with his credit card, and the woman handed Camilla the bag. "Here you are," she said. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Camilla said to her, still grinning lasciviously. The woman blushed, and Camilla and Patrick left the store.

"Thanks, Patrick," she said with a giggle. "Bye." They went their separate ways.

When am I gonna feel his cock inside my pussy? she wondered; Don's is big, but he's getting boring. To think, he actually wants me to be his wife. Ugh! Berman is more fun in bed, but his dick is smaller. He, too, wants me to marry him. No fulfillment there. Patrick's prick is perfect, but he's already married. Daddy is my soul mate, but he wants Carrie for a wife. Wives suck; I, however, deep-throat. She giggled again.

*******************

At Josiah's home that night, Camilla was in their bedroom studying.

Josiah was in the living room, meditating and feeling the Nigrovum in his blood flowing all through his body. He was beginning to feel a peace comparable to what Dr. Singh had been describing in his online chats with Camilla.

Maybe Camilla was right, Don thought; maybe this psychic power can be used for good. I just have to convince her to stop using it to get sex from everywhere. My spirituality is opening up: I can find God's love in the most unexpected places these days. No more Christian exclusivism for me. I'm giving up that idol. i must help Camilla give up her idol of sex, though. It will be really difficult, but it will be the only way to end her suffering. I care for her so much, and I know how much pain she feels; I must help her.

When Camilla had finished her studying for the night, she began a meditation of her own. She scanned Agape's mind, doing a thorough sweep of his sexual feelings. Go deeper, she thought; deeper inside his subconscious, where his darkest, most secret fantasies lie. She kept scanning and scanning, hoping to find any trace of incestuous urges her father may have had for her. Come on, Daddy, you know deep down you want me. No straight man can resist me. You must want my hot little body. Doesn't it drive you wild with desire? Where are those incestuous feelings you must have? Where are they?

She searched and searched for an hour before finally giving up in frustration. "Carrie, Carrie, nothing contrary," she whined. "Fuck, Daddy. You want to fuck only her? What do you see in that old woman? And what am I to you? Just a cute, skinny little six-year-old girl. That's all the love you have for me." She started to cry. "I don't want you to love me in an innocent way. I want to be sexy for you."

*******************

There was someone, of course, who still had strong sexual feelings for Camilla.

Candice lay in bed that night, high on heroin, but lonely and love-sick for Camilla. Though she was using Nigrovum to moderate the high so as not to let it cause her health to deteriorate, her use of Nigrovum was waning. The will to keep her body healthy was fading away.

Kill Carrie? Candice thought; Camilla, you're killing me.



Camilla Ch. 083



Black-haired, black-eyed, 'Goth' Camilla finished her classes late on Wednesday afternoon, and, wearing bright makeup, high heels, and the sexy black dress Patrick had bought for her, she went to the house of her Dr. Mason, her new therapist, for her first session with him. His house was in a quiet neighbourhood in North York; here is where, in his private practice, he preferred to see his patients, in a peaceful environment, where nobody and nothing would disturb them. On the front door was a sign. It said, "Just open the door and walk in."

"Wow, this guy's really laid back," she said, then slowly opened the door.

"Yes, Camilla, come on in," a male voice was heard to say. "Don't be shy; we're all relaxed here."

She walked in and closed the door behind her. She then cautiously walked through the centre of the house to the back, where Dr. Mason, the owner of that voice, was. He was sitting on a big, comfy chair in the middle of the large guest room, a room that seemed to Camilla to be more suitable for hosting large parties than for therapy sessions. In one corner was a bar; in the other was a grand piano. The chair she was to sit on, facing him, was smaller, but equally comfortable. 

"Please sit down," he said. She did. Foxy lady, he thought. 

Dr. Mason, she was pleased to see, was a good-looking man in his mid-forties, with a Van Dyke beard and brown hair streaked with occasional lines of silver. She could also sense, to her double delight, that he had strong heterosexual leanings. Nigrovum had done a good job in getting Dr. Rosenblood to send her to Mason.

As he was writing something down on his notepad, she did a quick scan of his mind to know his sexual tastes. In a few seconds, she figured out exactly how to act, and she removed that emotionally numbing psychic dome that had been protecting her from her recent pain.

"So, Camilla," he began, finishing his writing, "Dr. Rosenblood tells me you weren't very cooperative about telling him about yourself. I hope you'll open up for me."

Oh, I'll 'open up' for you, all right, she thought.

"He says you were more interested in having sex with him than in telling him about yourself," Mason continued.

"Yeah, he's gay; what a waste," she said.

"Why's that a waste?" Mason asked.

"'Cause he's hot. I wanted to fuck his brains out."

"He's more than twice your age."

"That's how I like my men," she said with a lewd smirk.

"Why do you like older men?" He tried to hide the smirk on his face.

""Cause they're mature, sophisticated, intelligent, and kind."

"All kinds of people have those qualities," Dr. Mason said. "And older men have all kinds of different qualities, both good and bad. Why do you associate those virtues particularly with older men?"

"Oh, because my daddy's like that, I guess," she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "He's the greatest."

"You must really love him."

"More than anyone in the whole world."

"Judging by the ecstatic smile you have on your face, I'd say that that love of yours is a decidedly romantic one."

Her smile instantly turned upside-down. She looked away.

"I'm not judging you," the psychologist reassured her. "I'm not at all being critical here; I'm merely exploring."

"I--I'm in..." she began, fighting back sobs. "Oh, God."

"You're in love with your father, aren't you?" Mason asked.

Nodding, she was now audibly crying.

He took a tissue from the Kleenex box on his nearby desk and gave it to her. "Camilla," he said, "over the fifteen years that I've been a therapist, I've encountered dozens of people who have incestuous feelings for their mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. Some kept their feelings a secret, others practiced consensual incest. There are a lot more people out there like you than you think."

"Really?" She looked up at him with hope in her eyes.

"Really. And I'm not going to condemn you as a pervert. In point of fact, I see nothing wrong with two consenting adults engaging in incest, as long as they don't have babies."

"Wow," she said, no longer crying. "Maybe society will accept it one day, the way they do homosexuality."

"Maybe," he said. "There are some people advocating the legalization of consensual incest. Does your dad feel the same way about you?"

"No--I mean, maybe, in his subconscious, if I can find it."

"In his subconscious?"

"Yeah, maybe he's repressing his desires for me," she said.

"Camilla, that sounds like wishful thinking."

"How so? It's possible he wants me, too."

"Not likely, I'm sorry to say. What about your mother?"

"She's dead," she quickly answered.

"Well, isn't that a relief?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yeah. She was a bitch."

"Tell me about her."

"She cheated on Daddy; she lied that he'd molested me, so when they got divorced, she'd get custody of me."

"Oh, dear," he said, quickly writing.

"When I was living with her and her asshole new husband, you know what they did?" Her voice was getting louder and angrier.

"What?"

"They had key parties!"

"Wow."

"All these swingers, screwing around in our house, and I, an eight-year-old girl, had to sit alone in my bedroom as my mommy and her female guests randomly chose their lovers for the night. And she judges me for being sexually screwed up."

"Excuse me: judges?" he asked. "I thought she was dead."

"She is. She judges me in my dreams. Her ghost, I mean."

"Her ghost?"

"You don't believe in ghosts?" she asked, perfectly content to see his incredulous reaction.

"I believe you've projected your guilt onto her. Judging by your choice of clothes, and your heavy makeup, I suspect you don't limit your sexual appetite to your dad."

"Oh, I fuck around all the time," she said unabashedly. "I'm a nympho: I get it from my mom."

"I see." Projecting it onto her mom, most likely, he thought.

She practically read his thoughts, and was growing insecure. "I'm a slut, OK? I admit it." 

"I'm not judging you," he said soothingly.

"Not with words, but with your eyes, you are."

"Why do you think that?"

"Everybody judges me for being sexually liberated," she said angrily. Now she was shooting out her words like a machine gun: "My mommy does, my daddy does, too; Candice, my girlfriend, who's insanely jealous of me, even though I totally allow her to lick other women's pussies if she wants to; my teachers--"

"You're bisexual?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, I fuck everybody. I'm every guy's fantasy. Even if I'm not, I can quickly learn how. I can make straight girls wanna fuck me. I'm a goddess."

"A goddess?"

"Yeah," she said, still rambling at rapid-fire speed, and totally aware of how crazy she sounded. "I can do anything. Change my hair colour, my eye colour, my skin colour. I can create force fields with my mind, keeping out undesirable people. I can control other people's minds. I just..." now she slowed down, "...I just, can't, control myself." She could feel the sobs coming back.

"Having no self-control is a problem," he said, still quickly writing to catch up with all the dark secrets she was sharing with him.

"I manipulate people," she said guiltily, verging on tears. "I mess with people's minds. I hurt people...the people I love. I don't mean to. I--I--" She began crying again.

"You like having power over people, don't you?" He gave her another tissue.

"Yes," she sobbed. "I know I shouldn't, but it's just...I've been controlled so much...by others." She sent him a mental message: Ask me to sit on your lap. She also started psychically stimulating his penis.

"I'm not judging you, sweetie." He felt his penis suddenly, inexplicably, getting erect. "Come here: sit on my lap."

"Yes, Doctor," she said 'timidly and compliantly', quickly getting up, walking over to him, and planting her soft buttocks on his erection. His legs were spread open, so she could rub her buttocks against the bulge poking up against her moistening vulva. He put his arms around her and gently rocked her back and forth, surprised at his sudden boldness. She put her arms around his neck and continued softly sobbing.

I don't understand, he thought; I never begin seducing my female patients until after at least a dozen sessions!

"I feel so guilty," she cried. "I can't help it; I'm a bad girl. Please help me, Doctor. I think I'm going crazy. The little aliens in my blood are driving me mad." She was sobbing loudly now.

"Little aliens in your blood?"

"Yeah," she said, and began her rapid-fire talk again. "Microscopic black egg-like things from outer space. They came to earth in the rain, falling on the grass; at least that's what Dr. Singh says, this guy I gave foot-jobs to, and he also has the power. I masturbated in a Vancouver park where the aliens landed one day a few years ago, and I came on the grass, and the aliens went up my pussy. That's how I got all my psychic powers." She now was catching her breath. 

"I see," he said. I believe the technical psychiatric term is, 'wacko', he thought. Having been hard at work that whole session sculpting his reaction to her, she, of course, knew what he was thinking.

"You think I'm crazy."

"I think you're very troubled. I think you have a lot of pain in you."

"Mm-hmm," she sobbed. "I'm really hurting."

"I can help you," he said. "But we'll have to get closer to each other, much closer."

"Please make the pain go away, Doctor." Her face was strategically drenched in tears.

"Come here, sweetie."

She brought her face over to his, and plunged her tongue deep inside his mouth. Their lips pressed hard against each other, and their tongues were in a frantic dance inside each other's mouths. As they tightly embraced each other, he unzipped her dress. She, always in the role of 'innocent, vulnerable female patient,' completely allowed him to undress her, pretending not at all to know about his lecherous designs, but totally focusing on her own. 

The dress came off, revealing a black lace bra and matching panties. He unclipped the bra and pulled it off; she wiggled her exposed breasts inches from his face with a naive expression on her face. Then he pulled down her panties, revealing her black pubic hair; when they fell to her ankles, she kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs through the leg-holes of her panties. Now she was completely naked, and she allowed him to ogle her body.

He picked her up and carried her up the stairs and into his bedroom. He lay her on the bed; she was still sobbing. As he took off his clothes, he looked over at her on the bed; she'd spread her legs wide open and lifted them up high so he could see her purple pussy and black asshole. She looked at him with those 'innocent, vulnerable,' sobbing eyes. 

"Does my body please you, Doctor?" she asked.

"You're as beautiful as you are troubled, sweetheart," he said, now pulling down his underwear. The naked man got on the bed and aimed his eight-inch cock at her wet pussy. 

He pushed the tip of his cock against her vaginal opening; her sobs instantly changed into sighs. He slid his cock in a few inches, and her sighs grew into screams--it was as though she'd never been crying. He pushed in another few inches, and the thickness of his shaft brushed against her G-spot, making her come. "Oh!" she screamed in whistle register, gushing all over his bedsheets.

"Oh, shit!" he grunted, pushing in further. 

"Sorry, Doctor," she sighed. "Ah!"

"That's OK, sweetie," he panted. "Unh!" He pushed all the way in, poking at her A-spot.

"Oh!" She came a second time, screaming in whistle register. "Fuck me! Oh!"

"You are...a wild one, girl. Oh!"

"This is...the best...fuck I've had...in a while," she squealed. "Ah!"

As he kept fucking her, it was becoming obvious to him that there was more to this girl than just a tramp with issues. Now that she was getting laid, she'd dropped her 'troubled girl' persona completely, and was just enjoying a good fuck. She orgasmed a third time. Obviously insatiable for sex, she had clearly seduced him, by being his fantasy. She'd been acting it out, point for point, detail by detail, with uncanny accuracy. Did she have psychic powers?

"Oh, my God! Ah!" she screamed. "Oh, fuck me, Doc, fuck me! Oh!" She came a fourth time; his bed was soaked.

"I don't believe it," he panted as he kept fucking. "Normally, I come..by now. How am...I able to...keep going?"

Because my Nigrovum won't let you come yet, she thought; not until I'm thoroughly satisfied. "Wanna fuck...my ass, sir?" she asked. "Oh!"

"Sure," he moaned. "Maybe that...will make...me come. Unh!" He pulled his cock out of her pussy. "How will I...lube you?"

"Just use my come." She pulled her legs up higher so he could see her asshole.

"Good idea." He scooped some of it off the sheets, and smeared it against her black asshole, then pushed his finger inside, thoroughly lubricating all her rectal walls. Now he pushed his knob against her welcoming anal orifice. 

"Oh, oh, oh..." she sighed as his cock slowly slid in deeper, inch by inch. She looked up into his eyes as she felt his cock go in further, letting him know how happy she was to be getting an ass-fuck from her therapist. 

Finally, he pushed all the way in. She screamed out loud with pleasure, and his grunts were a perfect bass counterpoint. He slid in and out, loving how her tight anal lips were squeezing against his thick shaft. He'd never had anal with a girl before, and he was delighted to have the girl suggest it, instead of him having to negotiate it with a presumably unwilling partner. 

As he kept fucking her ass, he was wondering again how he'd got a hard-on so suddenly. Though he'd been titillated by her from the very second he first laid eyes on her, his erection seemed unnatural. Does this bitch have psychic powers? he wondered. 

Though he was thrilled by the tightness of her asshole, he still wasn't coming, which was again strange; normally, this kind of excitement would have made him come quite early on. There were clearly strange forces at work here. Maybe she wasn't as deluded as he thought.

"I can...suck your...cock for you, Doctor," she sighed. "Oh!"

"OK," he said, then he pulled his cock out of her ass. 

She sat up on the bed and knelt before him. "Please stand up, sir."

"OK." Now standing up and looking down at her, he was breathing heavily to see her expertly taking his cock in her hands and bringing it to her mouth.

With a lewd smirk, she began kissing and licking the knob; then she took his cock in by a few inches, and her wet lips tightly hugged his shaft as it slid three-quarters of the way in, and three-quarters of the way out. 

As she looked up in his eyes, she sent this psychic message to him: thank you for healing my scarred psyche, Doctor. 

This is one unbelievable slut, he thought. Now, not only from how her electric tongue and caressing lips were exciting his cock, but from the Nigrovum releasing his desire, he could finally feel himself approaching orgasm.

She deep-throated him and tickled his balls with her fingers. Sensing his imminent ejaculation, she pulled her head back, releasing his cock with a popping sound. After briefly jacking him off, with his cock pointed at her face, she let him blow his load first on her nose, then her lips, then her right eye, then her chin, then her left cheek. She screamed and giggled with delight as each splash soaked her pretty face. 

He got down on the bed and lay beside her. Lying on their backs with their arms around each other, they slowly caught their breath. She reset the numbing psychic dome around herself.

Now he could finish his analysis. "Apart from your family troubles," he said, "your main problem is narcissism. You call yourself a goddess, and while I'd agree you are one in the metaphoric sense, you seem to take the idea literally. You're proud of your ability to control others, and you even imagine yourself as having superhuman abilities."

"Haven't I demonstrated some of those abilities for you, Doctor?" she asked.

"Well," he said evasively, "that remains to be conclusively proven, as far as I'm concerned. In any case, your...um, talents, aren't my main concern; rather, it's your emotional conflicts that I'm interested in. As for your narcissism, we'll work on bringing that down over the next few sessions."

"Anything you say, Doctor," she said, smiling as his come continued dripping off her cheeks and nose. 

***************

After her appointment with Dr. Mason, Camilla went by her father's house. Standing before it on the sidewalk, she could hear Agape and Carrie talking loudly with each other. Since she wasn't close enough to a window, she couldn't hear clearly what they were saying; her hatred of Carrie, however, gave her enough motivation to assume that her father's bride-to-be was shouting mean things at him. 

The Nigrovum inside her caused that hatred to swell, distorting her sense of what Agape and Carrie were feeling at the time; Camilla, therefore, psychically had no idea what emotions were actually floating around in that house, but she assumed they could only be bad ones, and she walked away feeling perfectly justified in her wish to remove Carrie from his life.

Don't worry, Daddy, she thought; I'll get rid of that bitch, and you'll be free. I'm killing her for you, my love.

She went to a bus station, and took a bus to a park near Don Josiah's home. Meanwhile...

"Here it is!" Agape shouted down from the bedroom. "Your blue dress is in the bedroom closet! I told you it wasn't in the laundry room! Don't come up; I'll bring it down to you!"

***************

In the park, Camilla was alone, and the sun was setting. She sat on a swing, facing a tree a dozen yards away. She pointed her right index finger at the tree and visualized one of those bullets in the box in Josiah's dresser drawer; she imagined it shooting out of her finger, as if it were the barrel of a gun. 

She concentrated, thinking carefully about every detail of the bullet as she'd psychically 'felt' it inside the box: the feel of it, the weight, the copper jacketing, and the gunpowder inside. After a few minutes, her finger felt as though it were 'loaded': a heavy weight put stress on her finger, and a dull pain was where the 'bullet' lay, waiting to be shot. 

Then she visualized the pistol she'd seen in Josiah's dresser drawer. She tried her best to visualize the internal ballistics of the bullet firing through the barrel of the pistol and leaving identifying marks on the bullet, even though she had no experience of ever firing a gun, let alone any knowledge of ballistic fingerprinting. Still, she tried her best to fake it, for she needed to make the gunshot seem to have come from Josiah's gun, so he'd be blamed for the murder, and there'd be minimal chance of her being blamed. 

Now she focused on the tree, imagining it was Carrie. Camilla's hatred for that woman swelled up inside her, once again distorting her sense of her surroundings. Though Nigrovum always obeyed her commands, it did so reluctantly if it sensed hostile energy, having antipathy for such feelings. This reluctance is what caused that distortion.

She 'fired': there was a great 'kick' to her finger as the 'bullet' shot out; her finger felt a sharp pain, and there was bleeding. She didn't hit the tree she was aiming at, though: she hit a tree to the right, and several yards behind it. She went over and took a close look--there was a real bullet-hole in the tree. 

"Wow," she said, breathing heavily and with her dishevelled hair flying all around her head. "I can do it: I can create a bullet out of nothing, and fire it from my finger as if it were a gun. I'm a goddess." Still, I missed, she thought; I'm no marksman. That was like when I killed Mrs. Holland. I meant for her car to hit a tree or something, but in my anger I kind of blacked out psychically, and her car hit another car, killing everyone in both of them. I didn't mean to kill those other people, but I guess they were collateral damage.




Camilla Ch. 083



She then went to Josiah's home, sucking the blood off her finger.

****************

On Thursday night, black-haired, black-eyed, Goth-pale Camilla watched Josiah fall asleep after getting another boring missionary fuck from him. 

All he can think about is his 'spiritual progress', she thought as she carefully got out of bed so as not to wake him. She put on a tight-fitting white dress that came down halfway between her thighs and her knees, those white cross-garters, and matching high heels. After painting up her face with heavy black mascara and eye-liner, dark-blue eye-shadow, pink blush, and dark red lipstick, she quietly put all her things in her luggage. I'm happy that Nigrovum is giving him more peace, as it is Ravinder, but I don't want to be around boring people like that anymore.

Before leaving Josiah's home, she left on the kitchen table a note she'd written earlier that day. This is what it said:

Sorry, Don, but it isn't working out between us. You're no fun as a non-priest, and I like my sex more--you know--sinful. You're growing spiritually, and I'm sure you'll be morally strong enough to get over me. Please don't try to find me. When I want you, I'll find you. Take care.

Camilla

She called up a taxi when she went outside, and as she waited for it to arrive, she psychically changed her hair, eyes, skin, nails, and asshole back to their original colours. 

The taxi arrived, she got in, and told the driver to take her to the other side of Toronto, to the neighbourhood where Dr. Martin lived. She sent a psychic message to him as he was sleeping: Wake up, sir. Camilla is coming, and she wants to feel you inside her.

After psychically rousing him from bed, she spent the rest of the taxi ride scanning Agape's mind for any possible feelings of incestuous lust for her; she probed the darkest recesses of his mind and found nothing--he had passion for only Carrie.

As Camilla swept his mind for all his affectionate feelings for her, again she found that, invariably, he thought only about such things as bouncing her--aged five, skinny, cute, and innocent--on his knee.

"Fuck!" she said.

"Ma'am?" the cabbie said.

"Yeah?"

"You OK?"

"Yeah. Oh, there's his house. Stop here." She got out, paid the cabbie, got her bags out of the cab, and took them to the porch of Dr. Martin's house, where her prof was waiting in his bathrobe.

"Camilla?" he asked. "What brings you here?" She loved the sound of the fifty-something man's suave British accent. 

"I need your cock," she said with the Russian accent of her 'Anna' persona. "Can I stay with you a while? My boyfriend kicked me out."

"Of course, my goddess," he said, then let her in. They went upstairs to his bedroom after he put both her bags in the living room.

"Do my clothes please you, sir?" she asked, turning around for him.

"Yes," he said. "You were so considerate to wear those sexy cross-garters for me."

"Yes, I like to be sexy for my teacher." She unzipped her dress at the back, pulled the shoulder straps off her shoulders, and let the dress fall to the floor. Wearing no underwear, she was now naked except for her cross-garters and high heels, which she kept on out of respect for Dr. Martin's fetishes. 

She got on the bed on all fours, spreading her legs out so he could see her brown asshole and pink pussy. He took off his bathrobe and pyjamas, and got on the bed behind her. He sniffed her anus, enjoying the faecal odour that she'd deliberately left there for her coprophiliac prof. Then he licked those pretty brown wrinkles, and slid his finger inside her wet pussy.

"Oh," she softly sighed as she felt his tongue tickling her anus and his finger stroking her G-spot. After a few more seconds of licking her asshole, he'd grown a full erection. He took his finger out of her pussy, and he pushed the tip of his hard cock against her vaginal opening. "Oh, oh, oh!..." she squealed. He'd slipped in a third of the way. 

"Oh!" he moaned as he pushed in a few inches further, loving the tightness of her wet pussy. When he'd got all the way in, she came, drowning his cock with her jizz. 

"Ah!" she screamed. His gargantuan cock kept thrusting in and out, in and out, and she kept singing out staccato, soprano squeals with each poke of his knob against her A-spot. After a half-minute of pokes, she came again.

He slid his finger inside her asshole as he continued fucking her pussy, moving it all around and feeling his way along her dirty anal walls. "Unh!" he grunted. 

"Do you...want to...fuck my ass?" she asked. "Oh!" She came a third time.

"Yes," he said. He pulled his cock out of her cunt. He smeared her asshole and rectum with her come with the hand that wasn't in her asshole before, because the finger of that hand was coated in her shit--something the coprophiliac adored. He slid his cock inside her asshole slowly, and she looked back at him with welcoming eyes, since she was now more used to the huge size of his cock. As he fucked her ass, he held his shit-covered finger up to his nose and sniffed it. 

She reached back and fingered her hard clitoris as she felt that powerful member probing and stretching her rectum in ways it seldom was ever stretched.

After a minute or so of fucking her ass, he groaned, "I'm gonna come. Oh!"

"OK," she sighed. "Pull out." He did, and she turned around and took his cock in her hand, pointing it at her tits. He sprayed all over her right nipple, her cleavage, her belly, and her left breast just to the right of the nipple. "Now I must go pee."

"OK," he said. "And I must watch you pee." They got off the bed and went into the bathroom. 

She sat on the toilet, and he stood before her, looking down at her and admiring how her curvy buttocks caressed the toilet seat. She looked up at him as she began peeing, her eyes asking his if what he saw pleased him. 

"Why did your boyfriend kick you out, my pissing goddess?" he asked as he enjoyed watching her apple juice pour out from between her legs down into the toilet bowl water.

"Well," she said in her deliberately ungrammatical 'Anna' English, moaning in relief to feel the piss coming out, "I no really get kicked out; I leave. He too boring. Always talk about 'spiritual evolution'. I wanna fuck, with man who like to get dirty. If he were still priest, he still be sexy." She squirted out her last few drops of pee.

"He was a priest?" Martin asked, squatting down to get a closer look. "You naughty girl."

"Yes, he quit priesthood for me, but I no like it." She reached for the toilet paper.

"Oh, allow me, Goddess." He pulled off some TP from the roll, then reached down between her legs and wiped her vulva dry. 

"Thank you, sir," she said, then got up. He sniffed her stinky crotch, freshly shaved by her that afternoon in anticipation of a night with him. Then she stood to the side so he, with his taste for urolagnia, could enjoy seeing her piss in the toilet bowl a while before flushing. "I like being with him as priest because I like calling him 'Father'. I think is sexy."

"Sexy in a transgressive way, that's for sure." 

"But he no fun anymore."

"I'm sure he was actually probably never fun. Religious types always spoil the fun, my dear." He flushed the toilet, took her by the hands and led her out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. They lay on the bed, and he started his own preaching: "There is no 'spiritual evolution', Camilla; the real evolution is that from one-celled organisms to man, the dominant species on the earth. The only real moral progress is from the backward ways of religion to the enlightened, secular society we live in now, with its virtues of tolerance and equality for everyone."

She was growing more and more tolerant of these views all the time.

*******************

Speaking of anti-religion, on Friday Camilla, blonde and in her skin-tight grey outfit, attended Dr. Lawson's class on erotic literature. He discussed Sade's Justine, or the Misfortunes of Virtue.

"Sade despised the Church, and all forms of moral restraint," Lawson said. "He advocated absolute individualism and freedom, condemning ethics as sanctimony and hypocrisy. The acts of sexual violence in Justine all represent parables, if you will, of his philosophy, that anything goes, and that virtue is never rewarded."

Brilliant, Camilla thought; and just what I needed to hear, to reduce my own guilt feelings. There is nothing but misfortune connected to virtue, and vice is fun; that's why people are always trying to stop us from having fun. Oh, Dr. Lawson, you're getting one hell of a good blow job after class.

After class, she followed him out of the classroom and to his office. 

"Hi sir," she said as they walked toward the building where his office was.

"Hi, Camilla," he said, already getting excited from what he knew was coming.

"Ready for your weekly blow job?" she asked, smiling lasciviously.

"Yeah, but let's not be so obvious about it this time, sweetie. People are beginning to talk about a sometimes blonde, sometimes black-haired girl who's getting it on with the profs."

"Oh, we'll be OK." They went into the building, and reached his office. "We'll keep things quiet. I'll turn on the radio to drown out your groans."

They went into his office, and she closed and locked the door. He sat at his desk, turned on his radio, and watched her sway her hips back and forth. 

She unzipped her outfit at the back and pulled it down to her feet. She pulled her feet out, keeping her high heels on, since she knew he liked them. Then she turned around, spread her legs and bent over so he could see her pussy and asshole. She looked back at him upside down from between her legs and let him finger her vulva and anus. She stroked his cock until she could feel a firm erection.

Then she turned around, got on her knees between his legs, and unzipped his pants. She pulled out his hard cock and masturbated him to get him harder; then she put it in her mouth, always looking up into his eyes with a lewd smirk.

He looked down at her with a smile as he watched her wet lips slide back and forth along the length of his shaft. Her fingers tickled his scrotum and played with his balls. He ran his fingers through her hair as she sucked him off.

She deep-throated him, feeling his pubic hair tickle her face. Then she pulled her head back so half his cock was still in her mouth; her tongue tightly wrapped itself around his bulging corpus spongiosum, and slid along its length, tickling the sensitive area just below his knob. 

"I'm gonna blow," he moaned. "Oh!"

She moved her head up and down his cock faster and faster, her tickling tongue vibrating along the underside of his cock. Finally, he ejaculated in her mouth, and she gulped down every drop. 

"Oh, yeah," he moaned. "The good fortunes...of vice." 

"Total sexual freedom, sir," she said in sighs. "I'm a Sadean."

********************

That night at Club Ritz, Goth-looking Camilla and Candice at first avoided each other. But Candice, still aching for her former lover, went up to her later that night.

"Camil," she said, trying not to cry. "Please forgive me for yelling at you in my apartment last time. It's just that I've been going crazy lately. I keep dreaming about the masked men. They're so real. It's scaring me."

"I'm not living with the priest anymore, if that'll make you feel better," Camilla said coolly.

"Who are you with now?" Candice asked.

"One of my teachers," Camilla said. "He won't be too shocking a choice for you, will he?"

"That choice isn't me, either. Look, I'm sorry for what I said. Please come back to me. I'm desperate to have you again."

"I will on one condition. You know what that is."

"Oh, Camil, please don't make me do that."

"That's the only way, Candice." Camilla walked away, seeing Patrick enter the bar.

"Come on, Camil, you're killing me." Candice looked at her arms. Needle holes were visible on the one she always shot heroin into, for the first time. Her mouth was dry, too, for she hadn't been using Nigrovum to reverse the negative effects of the heroin. She took her purse with her into the washroom, found an empty toilet stall, and took out her syringe and dope.

Patrick had a despondent look on his face. Camilla, wearing the black dress he'd bought her, changed all her body colours back to their original look. 

She approached him. "Hi Patrick!" she said in her 'Dolly' voice.

"Hi," he puffed out with some effort. He sat on a chair.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting on his lap. Amazingly, he didn't get a hard-on.

"My wife killed herself," he said, sobbing.



Camilla Ch. 084



Before black-haired, 'Goth-looking' Camilla started stripping at Club Ritz on Saturday evening, she--hardly talking to Candice at all--was going through Facebook on her iPhone: a female friend of Marcel's posted an explanation for his lack of communication over the past month. He'd died, and nobody even knew until a few days ago, when his decomposed corpse had been discovered in his apartment. He'd been behaving erratically and reclusively over the past month, and it was discovered that, as with Mr. Hanson, Marcel was having prostitutes piss on his face till he drowned in it. He'd psychically willed them to leave after finishing their pissing, just as he was dying, so no one was made aware of his death.

Camilla, still emotionally numb from the psychic dome she had around her, reacted with relative apathy, resolving to set up selective psychic barriers that night, allowing Marcel, Hanson, and any other desirable incubi to have her in her dreams. Her only grief over his death was in how she'd recently posted sexy photos of herself on Facebook, and she was hoping to read some silver-tongued comments of his; now she'd never read his bon mots again.

After reading this sad news, she checked her e-mail: there was a message from Dr. Singh, but she quickly deleted it.

"Sorry, Ravinder," she said. "You're nuts." I don't wanna read any more about your conspiracy theories: Satanists trying to use Nigrovum to make everyone slaves to their desires, she thought; then the Satanists will be able to take over the media, government, and banks. Please.

Just then, Patrick the banker came into the strip joint. Camilla changed all her body colours back to their original look, and went into character as ditzy 'Dolly'. She walked up to him.

"Hi," she said with a giggle. "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah," he said. "A bit better, anyway. Sorry for all my crying last night. You were hoping for some fun, and I was so out of it. Tonight, however, I was thinking: maybe if I spend some time with you, I can forget about my dead wife."

"OK," she said, unzipping her black dress--the one he'd bought for her in the Eaton's Centre--and dropping it on the floor. Wearing no underwear, the naked blonde kicked off her high heels. Standing so he had a view of her right side, she bent over and stuck out her ass so he could appraise her curves. "Is my body still pleasing to you?"

"Yes, as always," he panted.

She lay on her back on a sofa, spread her legs, and brought them up over her head so he could see her pussy and asshole. He squatted down, with his face an inch or two from her cunt. She calmly allowed him to look, as if he were merely checking out a new pair of shoes of hers. She opened her labia wide, and he tried to see inside that mysterious blackness. It amused her to see him try to see what he'd never be able to see--that small room where all life begins.

After allowing him to look for a few more seconds, she rolled over and, on all fours on the sofa, she pushed out her ass so he had her pretty, wrinkled, brown asshole an inch or two from his eyes. She looked back, watching him sniff: no faecal odour at all.

"So, what do you wanna do, Patrick?" she asked. "Lap dances? Table dances? Take me home tonight?"

"I'm not sure if I wanna rush into this, Camilla," he said. "As much as I like you, I'm still getting over my dead wife. Sometimes I think I feel her spirit, watching me, angry about my disrespect for our marriage."

"Well, what are we gonna do, then?" Camilla asked, still with her ass in his face.

"I'll be busy with funeral arrangements until Monday night," he said. "I can take you out to dinner when that's all done."

"OK," she said. "We'll take it slow."

"Exactly. I need time to recover. In fact, I'd better get home soon. Her family's probably wondering where I am."

"OK. Meet me at Giovanni's on Monday."

"Good. I'll see you there at about 7 PM, OK?"

"OK. Bye," she said, watching him walk out of the bar.

****************

When she'd got into Dr. Martin's house that night at around 2 AM, he was already asleep; so she quietly got into the bedroom, got naked, and got in bed. She set up selective psychic barriers, visualizing only Marcel, Mr. Hanson, and the incubi of her former teachers being able to get through the barriers to fuck her in her dreams. She soon fell asleep.

Only Marcel and Mr. Hanson appeared, for the masked incubi were restraining all her other former lovers. Marcel and Hanson were with naked Camilla on the ground floor of the burning mansion. She was sucking Marcel's cock, and Hanson was fucking her pussy.

The bed was rocking with her shaking of it, and Dr. Martin soon woke up, shocked to see her with her spread-out legs up over her head, with her pussy apparently being stuffed with an invisible cock, and with her mouth seemingly sucking another invisible cock, the knob poking out in her cheek. After a half minute more of watching this extraordinary sight, he was even more surprised to see her come fly out in an arc onto the bedsheets. Then she squinted, as if the 'cock' she'd been 'sucking' had just come in her right eye. Her feet come down on the bed, but the dream didn't stop there.

"Did you guys enjoy that?" she asked Marcel and Hanson.

"Oh, yeah," she answered together.

"Want a golden shower?" she asked.

"Oui," Marcel said. "Douche doree."

"Douche doree, douche doree," he and Hanson chanted.

They lay on the floor with their heads close to each other, and she squatted over them, with their heads between her legs. She pissed on one man's face, then swayed her hips to the other side to piss on the other man's face. She would sway back and forth like that for both men. When she squirted out her last few drops, she saw that the two men had seemed to have lost consciousness, dead and drowned again; she giggled at that.

Marcel suddenly woke up. "You killed me, Camilla," he said. "You know that, don't you?"

"What?" she said.

Then she could feel a hand shaking her shoulder.

"Huh?" she said when waking up with a start, feeling Dr. Martin's hand shaking her shoulder. He was standing at the side of the bed. She looked down at the piss on the sheets between her legs. "Oh, no! Not again! Sorry, sir." She was so annoyed and disoriented that she forgot to re-enact her 'Anna' persona, with the Russian accent.

"Darling," Dr. Martin said with a frown. "I'd much rather watch you piss into my toilet than on my bed, as lovely as it was to see the golden arc that flowed from your urethra onto the sheets."

"Sorry," she said, still in her original North American accent. "Incubi were fucking me; I gave them golden showers."

"Camilla, I don't believe in incubi; and why have you suddenly lost your Russian accent? Was that all an act, my dear?"

"Sorry," she said, now with the accent and blushing.

"You don't seem to be as stable as you were before."

"I'm seeing a therapist."

"If your dreams are going to continue to be as--well, intense--as that, I think you'll need to see a therapist. What's more, I think you'd better find another place to stay, my dear. I'm terribly sorry, but between your coming home so late at night and your apparently pathological behaviour when sleeping, I don't think I can tolerate this sort of thing. Perhaps you should find a new place first thing tomorrow."

"OK," she said, frowning. "But we can still fuck sometimes, right?"

"I don't think I'll be able to resist more of that; but only with you as a visitor here. Sorry."

*****************

On Sunday, Camilla packed her things and, before leaving Dr. Martin's home, called Dr. Lawson, who gladly agreed to have her live with him. Now her erotic literature prof imagined he could enjoy her without all the faculty gossiping around his office.

*****************

Don Josiah returned to his old Catholic church, not so much to take Communion as to have a chance to talk to Agape about Camilla. Carrie was there at the front pew, too. When Mass had ended, Don went up to Agape and Carrie.

"Hi. Do you know where Camilla is?" he asked Agape. "I'm very worried about her."

"We're all worried," Carrie said. "She's been in therapy ever since...um, her falling-out with Agape."

"Isn't she staying with her friend, Candice?" Agape asked.

"No," Don said. "I asked Candice, and it seems there was a falling-out with her and Camilla, too. Candice wouldn't say much, but I could sense that Camilla's been thinking violent thoughts."

"Oh, no," Carrie said. "She isn't contemplating suicide, is she?"

"I'm not sure--I don't think so--but she seems to have something vaguely violent on her mind," Don said. "Anyway, I'll continue looking for her, and I'll tell you as soon as I know something. Bye." He started walking away.

"Bye," Carrie and Agape said.

****************

Don returned home, sat on his bed, and began meditating. He could feel Nigrovum's energy flowing all through his body.

He was in an intense conflict: he desperately wanted to have Camilla back, the girl he was not only in love with, but also the girl he had compassion for and wanted to save from her self-destructive behaviour; but he also knew that he had to let go of his desires if he was to have peace. He wanted to help her find peace, but he couldn't help her if he didn't help himself first; so before doing a psychic search for her, he resolved to use Nigrovum to calm himself.

He breathed slowly and silently, visualizing the whole universe as he was increasingly coming to understand it, in its truest, most mystical sense. He saw everything as an ocean that went forever in all directions; the waves moved up and down slowly and serenely, and he felt himself as but one drop of water submerged in that wet infinity. The oneness he felt with everything was giving him a spiritual repose that neither the Church nor prayer had ever given him.

He so badly wanted to share this epiphany with Camilla, since he was convinced it would liberate her from her addictive desires as well as her hate. But she increasingly found 'spiritual talk' boring.

Now that he had reached that state of profound peace, he would be able to use Nigrovum to find her; but he was enjoying that peace so much that he forgot all about her. He would search for her another day. Sunday is the day of rest, after all.

****************

Since Agape and Carrie were just as worried about Camilla as Don was, as soon as they got home, Agape went up into his bedroom, sat on his bed, and began meditating too.

His plan, identical to Don's, was first to use Nigrovum to calm himself before using doing a psychic search for her. Because he, like the former priest and Dr. Singh, also had a religious, spiritual bent, Nigrovum tended to intensify those feelings in him just as it did in Don and Ravinder; so after several minutes of intense concentration, he, too, felt himself at one with that infinite ocean Don had experienced. He felt a communal love with everyone and everything in the world; even those people he normally disliked or despised, he now felt a sense of pity and compassion for, for the first time in his life. This was the sweetest feeling he'd ever had, and he was greedy for more.

Agape, too, found himself enjoying that serenity so much that he lengthened his bliss to the point of forgetting all about Camilla.

****************

On Monday, Agape badly wanted to look for Camilla; but his schedule of lecturing had him too busy in the morning and afternoon even to try to find her on the York campus. So when his work was done for the day, he sat in his office and meditated again, this time more intent on finding her.

After several minutes of deep concentration, he could feel the vibrations of Nigrovum emanating out of his body unswervingly in the direction of downtown Toronto, somewhere on Yonge Street. He sensed that she was in the middle of a conversation with a man, someone he didn't know, but someone he vaguely sensed had been in trouble with the law because of his relationship with Camilla.

His protective paternal instinct pushed him to come out of his meditation quickly; he grabbed his jacket, got in his car, and left the York campus.

Using the psychic powers of Nigrovum to lead him to the man he'd sensed Camilla chatting with, Agape drove in as straight a line as he could to Yonge Street. In twenty minutes, he found the man--Mr. Berman--walking alone on that long street. Secretly having antisemitic tendencies, Agape winced at the sight of Berman's wavy hair and aquiline nose.

"Excuse me," he called out to Berman from his car. "Do you happen to know a girl named Camilla Mennon?"

"Yeah," Berman said, going over to the car. Agape let him in, and Berman sat beside him. "I just talked to her a little while ago. I think she went to the Eat--"

"What's your relationship with her?" Agape asked.

"I've dated her," Berman said. "How do you know her?"

"I'm her father," Agape said with an icy look. "Why are you dating my daughter?"

Berman had had enough experiences with anti-Semites to know them just from their facial expressions, and he could practically smell prejudice on Agape. "I'm dating her because I'm in love with her. I'd do anything for her, but she asks the impossible."

"Oh, she does want absurd things--and people--sometimes. I must be blunt with you: I don't want you dating her. She's emotionally messed up right now, and if she gets mixed up with, with--"

"With a member of the Tribe?"

Staring right into Berman's eyes, Agape said, "She is a Palestine I won't let you occupy, my friend."

"I'm not going to harm her, Mr. Mennon. Actually, she accidentally harmed me many years ago. I used to be her fifth-grade teacher, and she had a crush on me at the time. She kissed me on the lips one day, and--just my luck--a teacher with your attitude towards Jews saw us. He had me fired and arrested."

"Your version of the story naturally frees you from all blame. I'll bet what really happened was quite different. Stay away from her."

"My version's the truth!" Berman insisted defiantly. "I was ruined for a crime I didn't commit; I received real sexual abuse--rape in a jail cell awaiting trial--because I'd been falsely accused of perpetrating sexual abuse. It was like how certain people were once falsely accused of betraying Germany, and their accusers truly betrayed Germany and killed six million of those they'd accused. Of course, people like you still accuse us of that false crime, as well as many other false crimes!"

"Now that you've been victimized for this crime you supposedly didn't commit, you want revenge on my daughter," Agape said coolly. "An eye for an eye, and a tooth--"

"No! I don't want revenge on anyone: I just want redemption. I see her as that redemption--my salvation. I love her, Mr. Mennon, and I mean to be with her--with or without your approval. If you disapprove, find a legitimate reason to: don't waste my time with your Jew-hating. Good-bye!" Berman got out of the car, slammed the door behind him, and walked away.

As Agape watched Berman walk down the street, he thought about the feelings he was psychically getting from the man. Berman was assuredly sincere in his love for Camilla, and Agape could feel the pain of a terrible injustice heaped on the poor man's shoulders.

Collette's lawyer in divorce court, a Jew, had pushed the false idea that Agape had molested Camilla as a child, and this experience ignited the fire of antisemitic hate in him. Now that Agape could see a fellow sufferer in a Jew, one who had suffered the same slander, all over Camilla, he could feel that fire being put out.

Nigrovum had correctly inspired in him indiscriminate, unconditional love--even in the people he'd for a long time hated.

Camilla was right, he thought; this power can be used for good.

Berman continued walking off his rage. I don't wanna kill that man's fiancee--what's her name, Carrie? he thought; but the idea of killing him sure is tempting.

****************

That evening, Patrick was with Camilla in Giovanni's. She had her original blonde hair, blue eyes, and peach skin; she was also wearing that black dress he'd bought her. They were finishing their meal.

"She visits me in my dreams," Patrick said.

"Your wife's ghost?" Camilla asked, always in her 'Dolly' voice.

"Yeah, so it seems," he said. "It's terrifying, and I feel guilty about being with you now, but you're...so addictive."

"Thank you," she said with a giggle. Then, carelessly, she added, "You know, I dream about ghosts, too. All the lovers I've had who've died. I feel them inside me at night."

I thought 'feeling people' wasn't one of your psychic powers, Patrick thought; you lied to me. My wife's dead because of you. Though she could psychically sense a vague hostility briefly brewing in him, he would hold his anger deep inside, out of range from her 'radar' for the rest of the date, so she didn't think much of that hostility.

He drove her to her new home, in Dr. Lawson's apartment building. He, knowing nothing about her living arrangement, took her up to the floor of Lawson's room.

It was 8:20 PM, and Dr. Lawson was still at York. Patrick and Camilla were standing by the door of Lawson's apartment. She psychically sensed her prof wasn't in the building, but she had no sense of when he would be coming home, which could have been at any moment. For this reason, she didn't want to get too slutty with Patrick...but that didn't mean she didn't want to get slutty with him at all...

"You still need time to get over your wife, eh?" she asked, unzipping her dress and dropping it on the floor. Without underwear, she was naked.

"Yeah, I want to take things slowly," he said, ogling her body and putting his hands on her hips. "We won't do too much tonight."

"Good," she said, kicking off her high heels. "I don't want my...roommate to see us together, so we should make this quick."

"Sure," he said, kissing her softly on the lips and feeling her up. He put his hands on her ass, opening up her butt-cheeks and gently rubbing his finger against her asshole. She moaned softly at his sensitivity.

His other hand went between her legs, fingering her already hard clitoris. She put her hand on his bulging groin, rubbing his pants where the tip of his cock was and getting him harder. He slipped his finger inside her wet pussy, massaging her tingling G-spot. Her moans turned into soft squeals. She took her hand off his boner and put her arms around his neck while French-kissing him.

Too distracted by her enjoyment of his expert fingers and electric tongue, she didn't take psychic notice of his growing anger towards her. Nor did she, over her sighs, hear him unzipping his pants and pulling his hard cock out.

It's your fault my wife's dead, he thought; I think I'll take things fast tonight after all--even if you don't want to.

He picked her up by the legs and brought her tits level with his lips; he briefly sucked on her left tit while feeling his erection pointing upwards at her soaking wet vagina. He slowly lowered her onto his cock. As soon as she felt the tip of his cock touch her vaginal orifice she felt a surprise, but didn't show it with any jerking of her body. He paused for her reaction.

Doesn't he want to take things slowly? she thought; We can't fuck now--what if Lawson comes home and sees us? Still, I just love to fuck...




Camilla Ch. 084



He lowered her slowly some more, and his cock went in an inch. He paused again. Still in her role of ditzy 'Dolly', Camilla pretended to be dumb enough to have a really slow reaction time; of course, she also reacted slowly because she so badly wanted to know what his cock would feel like. Nevertheless, they couldn't fuck now. She didn't want to risk being caught fucking Patrick: Lawson would probably kick her out, and where would she stay? Not with Candice--she wouldn't go back to her unless she promised to kill Carrie.

Finally, after his cock got a third of the way in, 'Dolly' reacted. "No," she moaned.

Looking directly in her eyes with half-lust and half-malice, just as Alex had done, Patrick kept sliding his cock in further, half-way in now.

"No, no, no," she sighed in ascending pitches and in a crescendo, though loving how his long, thick cock was causing her every vaginal wall to vibrate. "Ah!"

He slid in two-thirds of the way. Their eyes were locked on each other, hers asking him to stop, even though she was as horny as could be; and his eyes kept telling her he wouldn't stop till he came. When he'd reached three-quarters of the way in, she screamed in whistle register and came all over his pants and balls. He didn't mind.

His cock went all the way in, and poked against her A-spot three times before she came again. Now he moved her little body up and down on his cock; her mouth was as wide open as her cunt, and she was squinting, with a tense face telling him how much she was loving his ravishing of her, as well as how badly she needed him to stop fucking her as soon as possible. He wasn't finished yet, though...

Some neighbours heard her squeals, and opened their doors to look. Some men, thrilled by what they saw, got out their cell-phones and set them to video. Some women, scandalized by what they'd seen, quickly went back inside their apartments, planning to tell Lawson what they'd seen.

"We can't...do this," Camilla squealed. "Ah! We'll get...in trouble. Oh!"

"I...don't care," Patrick grunted. "Unh! You fucked...up my marriage, now I'm...fuckin' you! Oh!"

"I didn't...mean to. Ah!" She came again, way too horny to focus on using Nigrovum to stop people from seeing them.

Not wanting to soil his pants any more, Patrick lifted her up to get his cock out of her pussy; then he put her down on the floor. Completely exhausted, she was on her knees, with her eyes closed and her mouth wide open. He pushed his still-hard cock deep inside her mouth, and she began acquiescently sucking it.

He looked down at her, watching his cock go in three-quarters of the way, and out a third of the way. Not happy with the way he'd forced himself on her, and still worried that Lawson would come home soon, she realized she had to get him to come quickly. So she used Nigrovum to accelerate his arousal. Within seconds, his cock was on fire with lust. She'd planned to eat his come so as not to make any more of an incriminating mess; but he wanted to soak her face with his come, to make her punishment all the more complete.

Just when he was about to come, he suddenly pulled his cock out of her mouth; she'd tried to keep it inside, but she was too tired to concentrate on using her psychic powers. His cock came out with a 'pop'. He splashed his wad all over her nose, eyes, cheeks, and lips. Instead of her usual squeals, screams, and giggles, she just received each blast with disoriented, acquiescent moaning. He put his spent member back in his pants and zipped them up; then he took her hair and wiped her come off his pants with it.

"Everything that goes around, comes around," he said. "Good night, Camilla." He then walked over to the elevator, got in, and left the building.

The men who had been filming the fuck kept their cell-phones pointed at the naked, come-drenched blonde who sat on the floor in the hallway, completely exhausted. Her legs were wide open, so some of those voyeurs could get video of her exposed, dripping pussy.

Suddenly, the elevator opened again, and Dr. Lawson came out. The men with the cell-phones quickly went back into their apartments.

"Camilla!" Lawson said. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I was raped," she said, the come still dripping off her face.

"You're lying," he said. "You loved it."

"What makes you think that?"

"I know you by now. That come all over the floor, no doubt, is yours."

"Sorry, sir." She got up. He opened the door, and they went in his apartment.

"The gossip is going to be flying all over this building: I thought that would only be a problem on campus. I think you'd better find a new place to stay after tonight."



Camilla Ch. 085



On Tuesday afternoon, Candice's despair from not having Camilla back was in an agonizing conflict with her will to live. These two powerful feelings, of course, were magnified by the Nigrovum in her blood: her fading, yet still existing, hope to win Camilla's love, was striving against that that heavy weight of depression, like large rocks on her back; and that love Candice had for Camilla was still a potent, Nigrovum-intensified drug.

The conflict she felt was excruciating, like trying to lift those impossibly heavy rocks with neither the option to let them fall off her aching back, nor the option to give up, lie on the ground, and be crushed under their weight.

The only option Camilla had given Candice to get her back was a terrible one--killing Carrie, Agape's fiancee and the object of Camilla's jealousy. Though Candice certainly didn't want to kill anyone, she imagined that, with the aid of those psychic powers she shared with Camilla, maybe she could at least evade being caught by the police, as Camilla had all but guaranteed.

Of course, Candice knew that once Carrie was out of the way, Camilla would focus on her incestuous obsessions with her father, and Candice would continue to be ignored. Camilla's hopes of having Agape, however, were even weaker than Candice's were of getting Camilla back; and perhaps through patient, rational dissuasion, she could make Camilla give up her mad plan to murder Carrie. A dead Carrie wouldn't make Agape any more of a willing lover for Camilla than a living Carrie would, and this reality would have to be accepted by Camilla sooner or later. 

Candice called Camilla on her cell-phone. "Hi Camil," she said.

"Will you take care of Carrie for me?" Camilla asked.

"I'll consider it," Candice said weakly.

"Good; I'll come over and stay with you for a while," Camilla said, less out of satisfaction with Candice's answer than out of a need for a new place to stay, since Dr. Lawson wanted her out of his apartment by 6 PM that day. "I'll bring my stuff over around 5: 30, OK?"

"Great," Candice said, suddenly feeling those psychic 'rocks' come off her back, and feeling good for the first time in over a week and a half. "I'll see you soon. Bye."

"Bye," Camilla said, and hung up. 

Camilla couldn't understand how she could have been kicked out of two lovers' homes in so short a time, knowing how addicted Drs. Martin and Lawson were to her charms. They'd both been fully--and repeatedly--exposed to Nigrovum in their exchange of bodily fluids with Camilla during sex: surely that sex addiction had grown strong enough to override any other needs and wants of those two men. 

Perhaps Dr. Martin's watching of my paranormal dreams threatened the security he got from his skepticism about such things, she thought; and keeping his skepticism was more important to him than even sex. Perhaps Lawson's dread of rumours and scandal--what had led to his divorce ten years back, as he'd once told me--was a greater fear than getting no more sex from me. Nigrovum does affect everyone differently, of course: look at what it's done to Dr. Singh--poor crazy guy with his weird conspiracy theories. When was the last time he wanted sex from me?

Camilla--with her 'Goth' black hair and eyes, and pale skin--arrived with her bags in 'Goth-looking' Candice's apartment around 5:45 PM. Candice, already naked and famished for lesbian sex, practically dragged Camilla into her bedroom. 

Candice hurriedly helped Camilla get out of her T-shirt, jeans, sneakers, socks, and light-blue bra and panties; then naked Camilla lay on the bed on her back. Candice got on top of her, softly kissing her on her lips and cheeks. Camilla put her arms around Candice and just received her love. 

Candice moved down to Camilla's neck and nuzzled on it for while before going down further to her breasts. Her lips embraced Camilla's right nipple and sucked on it tightly, while her left hand fondled Camilla's left breast. Then her mouth moved over to the left breast, and her right hand gently squeezed Camilla's right breast, pinching the nipple. Camilla, softly moaning, ran her hands through Candice's black hair. 

Now Candice's roaming lips and tongue went down to Camilla's belly, which she kissed and licked briefly before going down to her pussy. Camilla spread her legs open wide and lifted them up, giving Candice access to both her pussy and asshole. Candice sucked on Camilla's clitoris while fingering her anus; then her mouth and finger traded places. Candice slid her finger deep inside Camilla's cunt, gently poking at her A-spot. Camilla's moans were ascending in pitch to squeals. Candice gently kissed Camilla's buttocks.

Then the girls got into a 69 position, with Camilla on top. Camilla licked and sucked on Candice's clit while Candice sucked on Camilla's labia. Camilla slid her finger inside Candice's wet pussy, tickling her G-spot. Candice resumed licking Camilla's asshole while fingering her dripping wet cunt. Both girls were moaning and squealing louder and louder.

Sensing Camilla's imminent orgasm, Candice brought her wide-open mouth down to receive the gushing; her finger tickled Camilla's clitoris, and a waterfall of come filled up Candice's mouth, puffing her cheeks out. Some come dribbled out the sides, but she swallowed most of it. Candice came soon after, and Camilla licked away the sweet ooze.

They lay side by side and cuddled as they caught their breath.

"Let's never fight again," Candice said.

"Are you gonna kill Carrie for me?" Camilla asked. "I can get a gun for you, and we'll use Nigrovum to make sure you don't get caught."

"If I consider it, will you consider another idea?" Candice asked.

"What's that?" Camilla asked, her patience thinning.

"Killing Carrie almost certainly won't get you any closer to fucking your dad again. He's dead against incest, and you know it."

"Candice, I know this has been hard for you; but if you really want me for a lover, you must help me get my dream lover."

"Do you really want blood on your hands, knowing you probably still won't have him?"

"Candice, you have a week to make up your mind. If by next Monday you don't shoot her with the gun I provide, I'm out of here, never to return."

"Camilla, why do you have to treat me like this? I love you," Candice said, starting to cry.

"If this is too hard for you, baby, I can make it easier for you." Camilla gave Candice's cheek and neck several soft wet kisses; then suddenly, she bit her hard on the neck. Candice screamed, but Camilla psychically silenced her. Keeping her teeth a half-centimetre or so inside Candice's skin, Camilla now focused on all of her hatred of Carrie and sent the psychic energy into Candice's bleeding neck. Camilla's teeth dug in deeper and deeper, drawing more and more blood, which she sucked in and drank, allowing none to spill out onto Candice's skin or onto the bed. So intense was the hateful energy that Camilla passed into Candice's body that, again, its focus got distorted.

Camilla pulled her teeth out while keeping her lips on the bite wound; then she used Nigrovum to heal it. She looked at Candice's neck: it was as though it had never been bitten. 

"Oww, that hurt, Camil," Candice sighed. "But it was kinda hot, too. Please say I'm yours."

After kissing Candice's cheek several more times, Camilla whispered in her ear, "You are mine, you always have been mine, and you always will be mine...for ever, and ever, and ever."

Candice felt that murderous hatred now swimming in her blood, making it easier for her to kill; but the distortion of that hate deflected it from its original object. Candice now had a strong, if vague, urge to kill. Whom was she to kill? Carrie? Herself? The ex-priest? Camilla? Agape?...

*********************

On Wednesday after leaving York University, "Goth" Camilla went to Dr. Mason's house for her second therapy session. As the sign on the front door had invited her to do, she simply opened it without knocking, walked in, and went to the large back room where he was, sitting at his chair and writing on his notepad. As she entered the room, she removed that psychic dome from around her, the one that was protecting her from psychological pain by numbing her emotionally. She knew that crying before Dr. Mason turned him on. 

She sat at her chair, facing him, and hoping he'd like her in a tight T-shirt and jeans.

"And how are you today, Camilla?" he asked.

"Fine," she said. "You wanna fuck me again?"

"Business before pleasure, sweetie," he said, chuckling in embarrassment, and even some guilt, at his having taken advantage of her 'vulnerability' the last time. "Let's talk about your father again. You want him, but your mother died. Is there a new love in his life?"

"Yes," Camilla growled. "Carrie. But she's in the way only for the moment."

"Oh? Do you plan to get her...out of the way?"

"I hope I can get my dad to see the light about her."

"I see, that she's wrong for him, but your Ms. Right?"

"Of course. You yourself support consensual incest."

"Yes, but only if he consents," Mason reminded her.

"If she's gone, he won't be distracted by her," Camilla said, careful not to imply killing Carrie.

"And how will a lack of distractions make him want to have sex with his daughter?"

"He'll be more focused on my hot, irresistible body. You know that, Doctor." She smiled lewdly at him.

"I certainly do," he said with a lecherous smile of his own. "Intimately. But what's your father's attitude towards sex?"

"He's a strait-laced conservative, unfortunately. Yet strangely, his saintliness makes him all the hotter to me."

"Forbidden fruits are sweetest, eh?"

"Oh, yeah!" She licked her lips.

"You consider him a saint. Does he have religious beliefs? 

"Definitely."

"Is he a fundamentalist?"

"I wouldn't go that far; I mean, he and Carrie have sex regularly--ugh! But he is a devout Catholic."

"Well, I don't see extreme prudery sliding over into unrestrained lust," Mason said.

"How could that happen?" she asked, leaning forward and fascinated with the idea.

"Extremes tend to dissolve into their opposite extremes, if pushed too far. Often religious fundamentalists are so rigid that their repressed desires explode from all the pressure, and when they fall from grace, they fall hard, engaging in lewdness that would shock even most liberals."

"Really?" Camilla began to see a kind of hope. If I can make Daddy really sexually uptight and repressed after Carrie's...gone, maybe he'll explode with sexual tension, become a pervert, and finally want to fuck me, she thought; Dr. Mason, you're brilliant. Look for a great lay in the next few minutes.

"Yes, sometimes these opposites attract, like the head of the ouroboros biting its tail," Mason said. "But I wouldn't count on that ever happening in your father's case, Camilla."

"Why not?" she asked with a pout.

"Look, how serious is his relationship with Carrie?"

"Very. They're engaged," she said with an even more bitter frown.

"Well, that's it, isn't it? Look, if you love him, if you truly love him, don't you want him to be happy?"

"Of course. But happy with me."

"Well, if you truly love him, isn't his happiness more important that satisfying your desires?"

"But he...won't be happy with her."

"How do you know that?" Mason asked.

"I...just know!" Her lip was beginning to quiver.

"You just wish for that to be true," he corrected.

"But I know it's true. It's got to be true. I...heard Daddy and Carrie fighting once." She began sobbing.

"Oh, come on, Camilla. Even in the best of relationships, there are at least a few fights." He gave her a tissue.

"She's...all wrong for him."

"She's all right for him, and you know that. That's what really upsets you. You're jealous. You envy Carrie's happiness."

"Well, what am I gonna do?" she shouted, crying loudly. "I'm in love with Daddy; I can't let go of him."

"Come here," Mason said. She got up, walked over, and sat on his lap; he put his arms around her and rocked her gently back and forth. "A healthy resolution to your Electra complex is to find a man to replace your father."

"Nobody can replace my daddy," she sobbed.

"Let's search together for possibilities." He kissed her on the lips, picked her up, and carried her up to his bedroom. He put her on the floor standing up, and as she continued crying, he took off her white T-shirt, her blue jeans, her pink bra and panties, and her sneakers and white socks. He sat on the side of the bed, admiring the naked girl's beauty.

He then pulled down his pants and underwear, and she sat on his hard cock, slowly feeding it inside her wet pussy. As his manhood went inside deeper and deeper, her sobs changed into sighs of ascending pitch, in a hot crescendo. When his cock got three-quarters of the way in, she came, flooding his lap with her cooze. 

Up and down her torso bounced on his cock; she squealed staccato soprano notes with each poking of the tip of his cock against her vibrating A-spot. The thick sides of his erection brushed thrillingly against her G-spot, making her whole body shiver with pleasure. She came a second time, and not even one full minute of fucking had passed.

He smiled to see her tits bouncing joyfully with the rest of her body; he had his hands on her ass, squeezing her buttocks. "Oh!" he moaned.

"Oh, oh, oh! Fuck! Fuck! Ah!" she screamed, coming a third time. She got up, pulling his cock out of her soaking pussy. "Let me...suck you off."

"OK," he panted. She knelt between his legs and held his cock in her hand, bringing it up to her mouth. She looked up into his eyes as she kissed and licked the tip of his cock; then she put it all in, deep-throating it.

She played with his balls as she quickly jerked her head in small movements, keeping the full length of his shaft in her mouth and throat. After a few more seconds of deep-throating, she pulled her head up, taking a half of his cock in her mouth, then going down a quarter deeper. His cock continued going in three-quarters of the way, then out a half, in three-quarters, and out a half. Her tongue vibrated against his bulging corpus spongiosum, and her fingers continued tickling his scrotum and gently shaking his balls.

She sensed he'd blow his load soon; so her wet lips tightly slid up his shaft to his knob, then pulled off with a popping sound. She slid her hand up and down his cock, keeping it pointed at her face. Then he came: a blast hit her nose--she screamed and giggled; a second shot hit her in the right eye--another scream of delight; a third spraying hit her on the left cheek; and a final spouting hit her on the lips. She looked up at him and giggled.

As they caught their breath, he looked down at her pretty, smiling face, made even prettier by his come dripping off her nose, cheeks, and chin. "Sweetie," he said, "you must find a man to replace your daddy."

Her smile quickly disappeared.

*****************

After leaving Dr. Mason's house, Camilla returned to that park near Don Josiah's home. She reset her psychic dome, and felt her emotional pain quickly being numbed into a comfortable apathy. 

Sitting on that same swing as last time, and watching the sun setting, she sent a psychic message to the ex-priest's home: If you want me back, bring your gun and bullets to Club Ritz on Friday night. She could feel the psychic energy leaving her body in emanating vibrations, and floating over to where Don was.

"Candice won't kill Carrie, nor will Don; that's pretty certain," Camilla said. Still, I can stay with Candice for a week till I find a new man to shack up with, she thought: Why pay full rent when I can get a guy to? And who knows? Maybe Candice will surprise me and actually kill Carrie. She has the hate I put in her; she just has to use it. Maybe he will, if I can get him desperate enough to do it. But probably nobody will help me. I'm probably going to have to shoot Carrie myself, with my six-shooting finger.

Camilla looked at that tree she'd tried to shoot the last time and missed. Hitting a target--be it a tree or a moving one like Carrie--wasn't going to be easy.

I could just give Carrie a psychically-induced heart attack, Camilla thought; or I could have her die in a car accident, as I did Mrs. Holland. But I hate Carrie so much for taking my daddy away: I don't want her to die in some ordinary way. I want her death to be cold-blooded; I want it to be violent; I want her to suffer. I hate her so much! She looks so much like Mommy: oh, I can't stand that! (Hell, I look like my mom...though it works on me.) Also, since Carrie's now fighting with Daddy, he can now see how bad she'll be for him. If he knows I shot her, he'll see how much I love him, and how much I'm willing to sacrifice for his well-being. Then he'll know that I'm the right woman for him, and he'll want me as much as I do him! It's a perfect plan!...if I can just get my aim right.

The Nigrovum was intensifying her hate so much that not only was it distorting her aim, it was also distorting her ability to reason. Still, she wouldn't stop trying.

As before, she visualized her finger as the barrel of Don's pistol, with one of his bullets in it. She concentrated and concentrated for several minutes, vividly imagining what the gun would feel like, its weight, the metal, the hollow barrel, and the bullet situated at the tip of her index finger. Soon, she could again feel that heavy, stressful weight on her finger, the dull pain where her psychic 'bullet' was waiting to be shot, and her wobbly aim, caused by her heated up, poisonous hatred of Carrie.

She aimed at the tree as best she could and fired, feeling the 'kick' and the sharp pain in her finger. She was lucky in how her shots were never loud: there was just a mild popping sound; she was unlucky, however, in missing her target again. She hit a tree to the left this time. 

"Damn!" she said. "When am I gonna hit that fuckin' tree?" She brought her bleeding finger to her lips, sucked the blood away, and used Nigrovum to heal the cut. How am I gonna make sure my bullet pierces her heart if I can't even hit a tree? she thought.

She then went to the nearest bus stop, and took the bus back to Candice's apartment.

*****************

Late in the afternoon on Thursday, Camilla was on the bus from York to Candice's apartment. She was checking her e-mail on her iPhone: one message was from Dr. Singh. Instead of being another warning about Satanists using Nigrovum to enslave the world with desire, the title of the message said, 'Brahman is an infinite ocean.'

"Ravinder, you're nuts," she said, deleting the message without even reading it. Had she bothered to read it, then considered Josiah's spiritual progress, she would have seen a striking similarity between the men; then she would have realized that Singh was as far away from insane as he could be. 

Suddenly, her phone rang. She answered it.

"Camilla, it's me, Patrick," her caller said. "I'm sorry about what happened Monday night."

"Oh, that's OK," she said in her 'Dolly' voice.

"I mean, I know you enjoyed the sex," Patrick said, "but I had no right to blame you for my wife's death."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, knowing perfectly well--but not really caring--that she was largely the cause of his wife's death. "Take me to dinner tonight."

"OK; Giovanni's, 8:00?"

"Sounds good; see you then," she said.

"Great. Bye." He hung up.

******************

That night at Giovanni's, Patrick and Camilla had been seated, and a waiter had received their orders. She had all her original body colours, and she was wearing a blouse, tight black leather pants, and silver high heels. A white fedora that she'd worn into the restaurant was sitting beside her at her booth. As they waited for their food, they chatted.




Camilla Ch. 085



"I don't know what's wrong with me," he said, fighting back sobs. "I blame you for Lisa's death, yet it's like I'm addicted to you." He started crying. "I've never been so...obsessed with a girl...as I am with you, and I don't know why. Lisa appeared...in my dreams...last night. She accused me...of raping you. She said...that I betrayed her...just for a fuck. I asked her...how I could redeem myself, and she said...I should love you...the way I should have loved her." He held his sobbing face in his hands.

"Sounds good," 'Dolly' said, without a trace of emotion, being numbed still by her psychic dome. "Love me tonight. But I gotta go poo-poo; excuse me." Camilla got up and went to the bathroom.

He could only be stunned by the apathy he saw in her.

As she crapped on the toilet, she thought, Patrick is no fun as a cry-baby. I've gotta get him in better spirits if I'm gonna get a good fuck from him tonight. She sent this psychic message back to him: Cheer up--if you do what I want you to do, I'll love you forever. She felt the warm energy radiate out to him at their booth. "See?" she said, crapping out her last turd. "I use Nigrovum for good." She wiped her ass, washed her hands, and returned to their booth.

"Sorry for all the crying," he said, wiping his face with a tissue. "I'm in control now."

"Don't feel bad," ditzy 'Dolly' said. Then, smiling lewdly at him, she said, "But your wife was right: you did rape me, you know."

"I did not," he said, cheering up and getting turned on.

"Yes, you did," she insisted, affecting bashful modesty. "I should call the police."

"You loved it. You were coming buckets."

"Uh, Patrick, keep your voice down," she whispered.

"Oh, yeah," he said, blushing. "Sorry." 

They had their meal, and he paid for it. Then she put her fedora on her head, and they left the restaurant.

*******************

Patrick drove Camilla to his house, and they went up to his bedroom. As he sat on the bed, taking his shoes off, he watched her get on the floor on all fours. Still with all her clothes on and her fedora on her head, she was looking at herself in a mirror and pushing her ass out, with her legs spread wide open. 

He got on the floor behind her and started kissing her on her tight black leather pants where her ass-crack was.

She looked back at him as he continued kissing and adoring her callipygian behind. "You're worshipping my bum," she said with a giggle, always in her ditzy 'Dolly' persona. 

"Yes, I am, Goddess," he said, still kissing and sniffing.

"But I'm all stinky down there. Remember, at Giovanni's I went poo-poo."

"No problem," Patrick said. "I'll just take you into the bathroom and wash you clean."

"Oh, thank you!" she said; then they both stood up.

She took off her fedora and put it on the dresser. Then he unzipped and unbuttoned her pants while she unbuttoned her white blouse. He pulled her pants down to her ankles while she took off her blouse and dropped it on the floor. Then he took her silver high heels off and got her feet through the leg holes of her pants while she took off her light green bra. Finally, he pulled down her light green lace panties, exposing her pubic hair in its original brown colour, and she pulled her feet through her panties' leg holes. 

The naked girl turned around, facing the door out that lead to the bathroom; and he, squatting, opened her buttocks to see her brown asshole, still with a bit of unwiped shit on it. The faecal smell was strong. 

"I told you I'm stinky down there," she said.

He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, placing her standing in the bathtub. He turned on the water and lathered up the soap. She squatted with her legs open so he could see her pussy: he soaped it up thoroughly inside and out, smearing the lather on all her vaginal walls. After rinsing her cunt clean, he had her turn around. She got up and bent over with her legs spread out so he could see her asshole; he cleaned it out as thoroughly as he had her pussy, getting the lather deep inside her rectum, washing the shit off all her rectal walls. She moaned at the sensitive touch of his hands.

After he rinsed all the soap away and dried her off, he sat on the toilet and she bent over, with her freshly-cleaned asshole and pussy just inches from his delighted face. She looked back at him as he sniffed.

"Am I all clean?" she asked.

"Immaculate," he said.

"Wanna put your thing in me now?"

"Definitely."

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed on her back. She opened her legs wide so he could see her pussy, then raised her legs up high so her asshole would also be visible. Then he got naked and put his face between her legs. 

First he vivaciously licked her asshole, sliding his tongue an inch or two inside the orifice. She moaned her thanks. He sucked on her already hard clitoris, then her labia. Finally, after a few more licks, he got up and pointed his dick at her cunt.

On top of her in the missionary position, he pushed his cock inside her wet pussy: she sighed in higher and higher pitches, her voice getting louder and louder. She came as soon as his cock was all the way in, poking against her A-spot. He started thrusting aggressively inside her, and she screamed and squealed over top of his baritone moans and grunts. She came a second time.

He put his hands on her tits and gently squeezed them as he continued fucking her. He was incredibly horny, but hadn't come yet, and this surprised him. Normally, he'd come right around this time, but while he was as hard as could be, he felt he could still fuck and fuck. He'd never felt like such a stud before, and he couldn't understand why.

She, of course, knew why: she was the reason why, using Nigrovum to keep him hard and at a plateaued peak of extreme excitement without reaching the point of no return and coming. She wanted a good, long fuck, and she was going to make sure he gave it to her. 

She came a third time, screaming in whistle register. As he kept fucking, amazed that he wasn't even getting tired, she thought about him as a possible man to kill Carrie. Though she'd like to do the murder herself, she debated with herself about whether it would be safer just to have someone else do it; then she'd be even less likely of being implicated for the crime. Her accomplice would accuse her, and she could deny it, calling him crazy. After all, all her lovers were crazy...as she of course was. 

She came a fourth time. 

"Do you...still wanna go?" he panted, still thrusting. "Unh!"

"Yeah," she sighed. "You...haven't got...gooey yet.  Ah!"

"But surely, you've had...your fill. Oh!" He pulled his dick out.

"Oh, I know," she said, as though a lightbulb had just flashed over her head, even though she'd always planned to do this. She quickly flipped around so she was on all fours, pointing her ass at him. With her legs spread out and her asshole showing, she looked back at him, her eyes telling him exactly what she'd allow him to do.

"It's OK if I do that?" he asked, amazed at her permissiveness.

"Sure. I let men put their things in there all the time. Look at my poo-poo hole. Doesn't it look used to you?"

"Well, I guess. So you're really OK with it? It won't hurt?"

"Sure, it's fine with me. I want to please you, because you made me gooey four times tonight. You always make me gooey, and I want to give back."

"Well, what will we use for lubricant?"

"Well, there's lube in my purse, but I prefer using my goo."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, just smear my goo all over my poo-poo hole, and all the way inside. Then put your thing in. You know you want to, Patrick."

"I love you," he sighed. He lubed her ass with her come, smearing it all over the orifice and deep inside her rectum. Then he slowly, carefully slid his cock inside. Again, his sensitivity gave her incredible pleasure, and when he got all the way in and had been pumping for a few seconds, her vagina was already wet. She hadn't even been fingering her clitoris: his anal stimulations were getting her very excited, and she had two anal orgasms during this ass-fuck.

He loved the tight feeling of her asshole: such a pretty thing that she'd been kind enough to indulge him with. Ever since he'd met her, she'd generously shown it to him, let him finger it inside and out, let him sniff and lick it, and now she was actually letting him fuck it! What an incredible girl.

After a few minutes of intense ass-fucking, she finally released him psychically, allowing him to come. Not wanting to soil her rectum, he pulled his cock out of her ass; she quickly turned around and knelt before him.

"Stand up, Patrick," she said. "Get gooey on my face. Men like that."

"OK," he said, standing up on the bed. She held his cock in her hand, pointing it at her face, and squeezed it a few times. He splashed his come on her nose: she screamed with delight; he then came on her cheek--she giggled; after that, he sprayed in her right eye, and she screamed and giggled like a little girl getting hit with a water pistol. Finally, he shot a blast of come on her lips and chin. 

They lay side by side on their backs, cuddling. As he slowly fell asleep, Patrick thought about his promise to his wife's ghost to love Camilla as he should have loved her. Not wanting to be bothered by any incubi, Camilla set up thorough psychic barriers, and they both went to sleep. 

*****************

Patrick woke up on Friday morning to the sweet sensations of Camilla's lips and tongue on his hard-on. He looked down at the naked girl as her mouth went up and down on his cock. 

"Oh, oh!" he moaned. "Are there...no end...to your talents?" he asked in sighs. "Ah!"  He came in her mouth, and she swallowed it all, not missing a drop.

"I thought you'd like to wake up like that," she said, giggling.

"You are...so considerate," he panted, kissing her on the cheek.

They got out of bed, and he got dressed. She, always naked, went out to the bathroom to clean her mouth out with mouthwash. 

He heard the doorbell ring, and went downstairs to get it. She also went downstairs and into the kitchen.

"You may want to go back upstairs and put your clothes on, Camilla," he said. "Two friends of mine are coming in for a bit."

She psychically sensed Patrick's taste for Candaulism, and she also could feel how one of those two friends was handsome, forty-something, and well-endowed. "That's OK, Patrick," she said. "I don't mind if they see me."

"Oh, OK," Patrick said with a mixture of uncertainty and titillation. "Come in, guys."

The two men, the handsome one and a younger, corpulent one, went into the living room with Patrick. Nude Camilla came out of the kitchen to meet them, gleefully displaying herself. "Hi guys," 'Dolly' said with a grin.

"Oh, my...God," the two men said together, their eyes agape and their jaws dropping to the floor.

"How do I look?" she asked with a giggle, turning around for them and smiling at the handsome man. "My name's Camilla."

"Flawless," the handsome man said. "I'm Gregg." He held out his hand and she shook it. "More than pleased to meet you."

"You are fuckin' hot!" the fat man said. "I'm Dan. Show me your pussy!"

"Dan," Patrick chided. "Behave. Enjoy what you get. No more."

You're not interested in me, she psychically told Dan, looking intensely in his eyes; Just ignore me.

Dan stared at his shoes for the rest of the visit; the others didn't care.

"What brings you here?" Patrick asked Gregg.

"Just sayin' hi," Gregg said. "And returning your DVDs." He smiled charismatically at her. "What brings this goddess here, Mr. Recently Widowed?"

"She's helping me get over the pain," Patrick said.

"I'm sure she is," Gregg said. "If you don't mind my saying so, Camilla, you have an incredibly beautiful body."

"Why, thank you," she said with another giggle. "Wanna see my goodies?"

"I'm aching to," Gregg panted.

She, always smiling, sat on the coffee table and spread her legs out so Gregg could see her pussy. She opened her labia out wide so he could see inside. His mouth and eyes were as gaping as her cunt was.

Then she turned around and got on the coffee table on all fours, showing Gregg her asshole. She looked back at him, her eyes asking him how he liked the view.

"Breathtaking," Gregg sighed. "And you use that pretty hole for pooping?"

"Yep," she said, laughing out loud. I'm a lap-dancer at Club Ritz, she psychically told Gregg; Come on over and see me sometime.

Patrick went over to speak privately to Gregg. "As I was saying," Patrick whispered in Gregg's ear, "I'm hoping she'll replace Lisa, and I've been making a lot of progress, if you know what I mean. Enjoy the show, but don't get your hopes up, buddy."

Don't you get your hopes up, buddy, Gregg thought.

*******************

That night at Club Ritz, Don Josiah dutifully arrived with the pistol and a box of bullets in a small gym bag. He sensed what she wanted to do with them; but he was confident that, psychically monitoring her with the utmost subtlety, he could make sure she wouldn't succeed with her plans.

She went up to him in a crimson evening dress, high heels, and the usual harlot makeup. She knew he was starving for her charms, and she'd use that to her advantage.

"Hi, Don," she said, hugging him. "Sorry, but what I told you before still goes: it isn't working out between us."

"What can I do to get you back?" he asked, with a tone of desperation in his voice. "I want to save you; then I can save myself."

"Do you still desire me?" she asked, smirking lewdly.

"Absolutely," he said, panting and still conflicted. "In body and soul."

"You can't have me. In fact, I don't think I should even be giving you lap-dances. It'll just make it harder for you to let me go."

"Oh, come on. Please," he begged. "Just one lap-dance, please?"

"Oh, I don't know." 

"What can I do for just one lap-dance? Then I'll never bother you again."

"Well, there is one thing you can do."

"What's that?" he asked eagerly. Though he wanted to prevent her from doing what he sensed she would do, he was starving for the pleasure of even something as small as one lap-dance from the girl he'd been addicted to. "What do you want me to do?"

"Oh, I'll tell you after the dance," she said. "First promise."

"Alright, I promise," he panted, knowing full well the risk he was taking. "Whatever it is you want, I promise to do it for you."

"OK," she said with a grin, and took him by the hand, leading him into a private room. He sat on the sofa; a new song began, 'Stripped', by Rammstein. She swayed her hips slowly, turned around, and pushed her ass out at his face, shaking it mere centimetres from his nose.

It took all his strength to enjoy her beauty without succumbing to it. As much as he wanted to delight in her sensuality, he also didn't want that pleasure to be a detriment to his spiritual progress; and he wanted to save her...from herself. He couldn't let his lust distract him from his subtle plan of letting her think she'd fooled him, when he was in control all along.

Her dress came off, revealing her black lace underwear. She squeezed her breasts against the sides of his face, then took her bra off, wiggling her tits and slapping them against his cheeks. She turned around, pushed her buttocks against his face, then moved her ass from side to side, letting his face feel the material of her black lace panties sliding against it. She pulled her panties down to her ankles, took off her shoes, then pulled her feet out of her panties' leg holes. She was now completely naked.

She opened her legs wide and bent over so he could see her pussy and asshole up close. She looked back at him, upside down from between her legs. She had that calm, Mona Lisa smile again, but he was no longer fooled by it. This 'Eve before the Fall', naked and not ashamed, was in no state of grace: she had terribly sinful thoughts swimming around in her brain, and he knew that. He saw all of her naked soul as well as all of her naked body: nothing was hidden.

Still, he wanted her.

She sat on his pointy lap, and started grinding aggressively on his hard cock. He smelled her fragrant hair, and fondled her large breasts. Then he put his hand down between her legs and began fingering her wet pussy, tickling her hard clitoris. They moaned in unison, an octave apart from each other.

His indulgence in his lust was half-real, half-acted, for he knew she was using Nigrovum to scan his mind for any plans to circumvent hers; he did have such plans, but he couldn't allow himself to think about those circumventions at that moment. He could only play the role of horny King Herod to her scheming Salome.

She was hoping, by getting him extremely hot, to make him let his psychic guard down so she could know his real thoughts. Did he secretly know about her plan to kill Carrie? Was he going to try to use his own psychic powers to stop her? For good or ill, all she could sense was his burning lechery. 

She rubbed her ass hard on his cock, more and more aggressively, while his fingers were tickling her clitoris and rubbing against her G-spot. He kissed her on her neck and shoulder, and she reached back and fondled his cock. Keeping his plans far back in the deep recesses of his mind, he thought only about how turned on he was...and gladly!

In their horniness, they decided to play a game with Nigrovum: they decided to synchronize their orgasms. Indeed, in a few more seconds of intense fingering, grinding, and fondling, they came at the same time.

The song ended, and and she cleaned him up as best she could in the shower area. "OK," she said. "I gave you your dance; now, do me my favour."

"Anything, Goddess," he panted with a slavish, lustful obedience in his eyes and voice. "I'll give you anything: jewellery, diamonds, anything. What do you want?"

"Give me that bag," she said, looking intensely in his eyes and psychically prompting him to do so. In the weak-willed lasciviousness that he'd just plunged into, he seemed easy to manipulate. 

"OK," he panted acquiescently. "Take it." He gave her the bag, and left, walking out of the strip joint in an almost mechanical manner.

******************

When he got home, far away from her psychic 'radar', he thought about his desperate plan, and how risky, even foolhardy, it obviously was.

Giving her my gun! he thought; What stupidity! I must be as mad as she is, knowing what she plans to do with it! I can't even say what she'll do, it's so horrible, so insane. Still, if I hadn't given her my gun, she'd have just thought up some other plan to kill Carrie. Maybe she'd have bought another gun: if she uses my gun, it'll be easier to monitor her psychically than if she uses a gun I don't know about. If she plans to kill Carrie another way, it'll be harder for me to monitor her plans, not knowing what she wants to do. At least this way, I know what she's going to do, and I can psychically monitor her better. I must tell Agape and Carrie, though telling them will get them so worried, and I'd hate to get that sweet woman scared. I hope Camilla doesn't psychically scan the bullets I gave her, and find out they're blanks! If she finds out, and buys real bullets, I can psychically turn them into blanks at the last minute, when she goes to shoot Carrie. I'll psychically monitor Camilla 24/7, alerting myself when she takes the gun to shoot Carrie; I'll even set up a psychic 'alarm clock' in my mind to alert me if Camilla wants to kill Carrie when I'm sleeping. If my plan succeeds, Oh, God, make it succeed! I can let Agape know in time; he will stop her with his own psychic powers, and she'll be given the help she needs, committed in an insane asylum if necessary. Please, Camilla, don't find out about the blanks!




Camilla Ch. 085



 

******************

 

So, Don gave me blanks, Camilla thought as she put his gym bag in her locker; that's OK. I can make my own bullets, and shoot them with my finger. He doesn't know about that, and I doubt he'll be able to monitor me without my knowing. 



Camilla Ch. 086



Serena and Rose--those chubby, radical feminist lesbian lovers in the mythology class--walked into Club Ritz on Saturday night, looking lustfully for Camilla, their former classmate. They'd told each other that their reason for coming into the strip joint was to get Camilla to see how 'foolish' she was to allow herself to be objectified, but their real reason for coming was much more obvious.

Naked, 'Goth' Camilla was onstage, doing the last song of her stage show; she was on the floor on her back, with her legs spread wide open and her pussy proudly on display. The song being played was 'Happiest Girl', by Depeche Mode. Camilla, recognizing Serena and Rose, opened her labia wide and grinned at them. The two lesbians' mouths and eyes were as agape as Camilla's cunt. Camilla just giggled as they ogled her.

The song ended, and Camilla got off the stage, taking only her purse and leaving all her clothes by the side of the stage. Serena and Rose, having never seen Camilla with black hair and pale skin before, didn't recognize her until she walked up to them and got up close.

"Good evening, ladies," Camilla said with a smile. "And what can I do for you?"

"H-h-hi," the lesbians stammered together as they ogled Camilla's nude perfection, forgetting how much they were 'objectifying' her.

"Would you like table dances, or lap-dances?" Camilla asked.

"T-table dances, I guess," Serena said.

"OK," Camilla said, and they sat at a table together, waiting for the next song to begin.

"So, you dyed your hair, eh?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, I often change it back and forth," Camilla said. "Blonde to black, then back to blonde. I like varying my looks."

"Uh, Camilla," Serena asked with a smirk. "Have you heard any of those rumours about a girl, sometimes blonde, sometimes black-haired, who's been getting it on with some of the English profs at York, right on the campus, and in their offices?"

"Yeah," Camilla answered, and looked intensely first in Serena's eyes, then in Rose's. "But you ladies don't think I'm that girl."

"We don't think you're that girl," Serena and Rose said mechanically and obediently, in a trance.

Still looking intensely in Rose's eyes, then back in Serena's, Camilla said, "And you aren't going to tell anyone you think I'm that girl."

"And we aren't going to tell anyone we think you're that girl," the lesbians said.

"Good," Camilla said with a smirk of her own. "Well, a new song's beginning; shall I dance for you?"

"Oh, OK," Rose said, blushing.

Camilla stood up, and facing Serena, she began swaying her hips to the first song of similarly 'Goth-looking' Candice's floor-show, "Hey Ladies," by the Beastie Boys. The two lesbians were torn between being turned on by Camilla's sensuality, wanting her to stop making herself into a sex object, and worrying if they were making each other jealous with their leers.

Camilla turned around, spread her legs, and bent over, showing Serena and Rose her pussy and asshole as if she were merely showing off a new bracelet. Camilla looked back at them upside-down from between her legs, her eyes asking the lesbians if they liked the anatomy she was revealing to them.

W-w-why do you do this?" Serena asked with heavy breaths. "Don't you feel humiliated?"

"No," Camilla said, still bent over and almost surprised at the question. "Why should I? Everyone tells me I look great nude."

"It's just...," Rose panted. "All these men l-looking at you like...like..."

"Like you two are?" Camilla asked with another smirk.

"Well, yeah, but...," Rose said. "We at least feel bad about...you know, making you f-feel like an object."

"You sound like this one priest I seduced a month or so ago," Camilla said, straightening up and turning around.

"You seduced a priest?" Serena said. "Bringing shame on the Church; good for you, Sister!"

"Oh, I don't look at it that way," Camilla said, putting her knee on Serena's chair and bringing her lips up close to the fat lesbian's. "I was helping him loosen up. Really, I don't mind being sexy for men. I like pleasing them."

"Why do you want to 'please' them?" Serena asked. "You're subm-mitting to them."

"No, I'm not," Camilla said with a sneer. "I'm the one with the power, not them." Camilla got up and put her knee on Rose's chair, coming up close to her face now.

"How are you the one w-with the power?" Rose asked. "All naked and vulnerable l-like this, and all these guys raping you with their eyes?"

"Oh, come on, you two would-be victims," Camilla said, sitting back on her chair and spreading her legs. "These guys are putty in my hands. You don't realize just how pathetic they really are. They are the victims of a society that addicts them to female sexuality. These guys don't come over here to dominate us, they come over here because they often can't get girlfriends. They're too short, they're bald, they're fat, they're poor, they're geeky. We strippers are the only sexy women they can enjoy--us and the girls in internet porn. Women rule over these guys."

The lesbians were too awed by Camilla's wide-open hole to pay much attention to what she was saying. Just then, Dan, Patrick's fat neighbour, saw Camilla and came up to her.

"I still think we women are the ones to be pitied," Serena said.

"Oh, really?" Camilla said. "Watch this."

When Dan got up close, he recognized her as Camilla. "Camilla?" he asked shyly. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it is," she said with a grin. "My new look. What sharp eyes you have, recognizing me in my black hair in the dark."

"Gregg and I are sitting over there," Dan said, pointing to their table. "When you're done here, can we get some table dances?"

Camilla looked over at handsome Gregg, smiled at him, then looked intensely in Dan's eyes. "He can have table dances," she said, "but you can't."

"He can have table dances, but I can't," Dan said in a monotone voice.

Serena and Rose just watched in awe.

"You'd rather have another girl give you table dances, anyway," Camilla said.

"I'd rather have another girl give me table dances, anyway," Dan said.

"Bye bye," she sang.

"Bye bye," he said, then walked back to his table.

Having no conscious memory of Camilla's subliminal command not to gossip about her notoriety on the York campus, Serena and Rose were dazzled by what they'd just seen, imagining it to have happened for the first time.

"How'd you do that?" Serena asked.

"You ladies believe in the Great Goddess, right?" Camilla asked, bringing her breasts up close to Rose's face.

"Y-yeah," Rose panted, ogling those nipples that were millimetres from her salivating lips.

Camilla now moved over to Serena, and had her breasts an inch or so from the practically drooling lesbian's nose and lips.

"And you worship the Great Goddess, don't you?" Camilla asked.

"Yeah, of c-course," Serena sighed, her voice cracking.

"Well, I am a goddess," Camilla said, suddenly changing her hair and eyes back to their original blonde and blue, and making her skin, pubic hair, and asshole turn back to their original colours. "Now, give me due reverence."

"Holy shit!" the lesbians grunted in unison, then went to their knees before Camilla. The song ended, and Rose, with a shaky hand, gave Camilla some money for the table dance.

"Worship me, and go in peace," Camilla said, picking up her purse and walking away to Gregg's and Dan's table.

The second song of Candice's floor show was 'Get It Together,' by the Beastie Boys. Camilla and topless Candice smiled at each other; Serena and Rose, noticing this exchange of affection (as well as Candice's physical similarity to Camilla before her change back to blonde), walked by Camilla.

"Is the girl onstage your twin sister?" Rose asked.

"Is she a chameleon goddess, too?" Serena asked.

"She's my lesbian lover," Camilla said, licking her lips and smiling at Candice again, who mirrored her flickering tongue.

Rose and Serena left the bar holding hands, and jealous as hell that Camilla got to enjoy so much hotter a partner.

Dan was occupied with another stripper, so Camilla could focus on Gregg.

"Now I can see why you are so comfortable with strangers seeing you naked," Gregg said, remembering his delightful first meeting with nude Camilla at Patrick's house.

"Yep. Would you like to go into a private room with me, Gregg?" Camilla asked.

"Would I ever!" he said. "What can we do in there?"

"What would you like to do?" she asked.

"I'd like to hurry in there," he said, and they went into a private room. He was thrilled to see not only sofas, but a toilet, a shower, and--best of all--a bed. He got on it on his back, she got on top of him in the cowgirl position, and unzipped his pants. "How much is this going to cost?"

"Depends on how much pleasure you give me," she said, pulling his hard cock out of his pants and aiming her pussy over it. "The more pleasure you give me, the less it costs." He pulled his pants down to his knees as she slowly came down. The tip of his cock touched her vaginal orifice, and she started sighing. As his cock went in deeper and deeper, she sighed louder and higher. "Ah!" she screamed when he was all the way in. She drenched his lap with her come. She started bouncing up and down on his cock. "This fuck's...for free!" she squealed in soprano notes. "Oh!"

"You just...get better...and better," he moaned. "Unh!"

His cock was a full seven inches long, and its thickness tickled her every wet vaginal wall. She came again. "Ah!"

"I'm soaking," he grunted. "Oh!"

"I'll blow you," she sighed, pulling up and getting his cock out of her pussy. Then she went down on him, looking up in his eyes and smiling lewdly as she began licking the underside of his cock. He looked down at Camilla in disbelief: she made easy girls seem hard to get!

Outside the private room, they could hear the last song of Candice's floor-show, 'Bodhisattva Vow,' by the Beastie Boys.

She took his cock deep inside her mouth, and sucked all her come off his erection. She pulled her head up with her wet lips tightly sealed around his shaft, and released his cock with a popping sound; then she, never taking her eyes off his, put his balls in her mouth and sucked her come off them. Her tongue gently boxed his balls, making them dance inside her mouth.

After that, she took his balls out of her mouth and wrapped her lips around his cock again. Feeling his ejaculation coming soon, she moved her mouth up and down on his cock faster and faster, her tongue vibrating quickly against the bulging underside of his cock.

Finally, he came in her mouth, and she gulped down every last drop. She took his spent penis out of her mouth. "Did you...enjoy that?" she asked.

"That was...the blow job...of the century," he panted. "Now I...gotta clean up."

"Come with me," she said. She took him over to the shower and washed the rest of her come off his lap and legs. Then she dried him off, and he got dressed. "What do you wanna do now?"

"What do you wanna do?"

"Go home with you."

"Is this a dream?" he asked.

"I don't think so," she said. "I usually have bad dreams."

"Get your clothes and let's go."

"I wanna go naked."

"Do you ever wear clothes?" he asked, amazed at her limitless exhibitionism.

"Not if I don't have to," she said. "Is your car near here?"

"Yeah, right by the back door."

"Convenient," she said, picking up her purse. They left the private room, and went out the back door.

As they went over to Gregg's car, other men in the parking lot were ogling Camilla's nudity, and taking pictures of her with their cell-phones.

"So you don't mind that, eh?" Gregg asked as he unlocked his car door.

"Not at all," she said, using Nigrovum to keep the men from getting too close to her. "Let them enjoy themselves."

She and Gregg got in his car, and he drove her to his house, across the street from Patrick's. He parked in front of his house, and they got out of his car. As they went to his front door, Patrick looked out of his living room window with jealous eyes.

I can't very well win Camilla's love, marry her, and redeem myself in front of my dead wife if Camilla's fucking other guys, Patrick thought.

Gregg and Camilla went inside his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. She got on his bed on all fours with her legs spread out and her butt pushed back so he could see her pussy and asshole.

"I remember that pretty pooper," he said, pulling his pants down and getting on the bed behind her.

"Wanna fuck my ass?" she asked, taking her tube of anal lube out of her purse and handing it to him.

"You're almost too good to be true," he said, taking the lube. He got some lube on his hands, smeared it on his hardening cock, then smeared some all over her asshole and deep inside her rectum.

Too excited even to ask about condoms, he pushed the tip of his cock against her open anus. She looked back at him with a lewd smirk as his cock went in an inch. She moaned softly as she felt it go in deeper and deeper.

He pushed in all the way, amazed at the tightness of her anal lips and her welcoming rectum. He slid in and out, looking at her lascivious eyes, which told him how much she enjoyed pleasing him. The hugeness of his cock thoroughly stimulated her anal walls, stimulating in turn the neighbouring vaginal wall. She reached back and fingered her hard clitoris. He reached forward and fondled her breasts.

"I'm gonna come," he grunted. "Ooh!"

"Take it out," she sighed. "Let's put it...between my tits."

"OK," he moaned, and pulled his cock out of her ass. She turned around, and he stood up. Kneeling before him, she took his erection between her breasts, wrapping them tightly around his cock. Looking up at him as she slid her breasts up and down on his cock, she psychically sensed he'd come in a few seconds, but pretended to be surprised when the first blast of his come shot up at her face in a thin, strong streak, going up her right nostril.

"Umb," she squealed, giggling. Then another splash hit her in the left eye as she looked down. "Ah!" she screamed. Another shot hit her on the lips, and a last one hit her on her right cheek. She looked up at him and giggled.

He got down and lay beside her in bed. She allowed him to enjoy watching his come drip down her face for another minute or so before going to the washroom and cleaning up.

When she got back in bed, he was already fast asleep. Not wanting him to wake up to her being fucked in her dreams by incubi, she set up complete psychic barriers.

Then she sat up in bed and began meditating with Nigrovum. Focusing on her father, she psychically searched through all his private sexual thoughts, hoping again to find some kind of unconscious incestuous desires for her. All she could find was his passion for Carrie.

Trying to contain her frustration and keep concentrating, Camilla then searched through all his thoughts about her: again, there were only feelings of innocent, fatherly affection. She came out of her meditation with a frown.

If I'm a goddess, she thought; why can't I make Daddy want me?

She softly cried herself to sleep.

******************

On Sunday morning, Agape went to Mass, sitting at the front pew as usual; but he came without Carrie, for she was at home sick. Don Josiah was in the church, too, sitting several rows behind Agape. Having grown in power with Nigrovum after meditating with it every day, Don could sense that Agape had made the same spiritual progress.

Don wanted to know how well Agape could use these psychic powers, and if he could use them sufficiently to give Carrie protection from Camilla's schemes. As everyone waited for Mass to begin, Don sent Agape a psychic message:

Agape, have you talked to Camilla since we last spoke?

No, Agape mentally answered, looking back at where Don was sitting; you have this power too, obviously.

Yes, Don psychically said; I hope this power has given you peace, as it has given me.

Agape: It has. Everything in me and around me is at one; it's so serene and beautiful, like the gentle waves of an ocean that goes on forever in every direction. Do you feel that?

Don: Yes, absolutely. It's the very face of God.

Agape: If only this power could give my daughter the peace it has given us. I searched for Camilla on Yonge Street last Monday. I learned she was somewhere in the Eaton's Centre. When I went inside, I used my mental powers to pin-point her exact location, but I couldn't: she was psychically blocking me. She has continued to block me till the present day. She's keeping something from me, and I can't get to her. I'm worried--I think she's up to no good.

Don: I know she's up to no good. Agape, guard your fiancee. Don't let your daughter get near Carrie. Camilla's thinking violent thoughts. Don't tell Carrie this, though: we don't want to scare her.

Agape: I've sensed the danger, and I've made my precautions. Don't worry: Carrie will be safe.

"Good," Don said, having gotten up and now sitting next to Agape. "I'm your servant in this, and I'll help you in any way I can."

"Thank you," Agape said. "Have you by chance made mental contact with a doctor in Vancouver, a Dr. Ravinder Singh? I have."

"Yes, I have too. He tries to communicate with Camilla all the time, but she blocks him, thinking he's crazy to know what we both also know about the true nature of things. He wants to help us, especially to help her."

"He's a good man. Now she's much more powerful than we are individually with this--substance--in our blood; but if we can combine our power with Singh's, we should be able to thwart her plans, keep Carrie safe, and most importantly, be ready to help Camilla when..." Agape returned to mental communication to avoid raised eyebrows from the other parishioners: ...when we're all in the other world.

"All must be done with the utmost subtlety," Don said.

******************

Berman lay in bed that night, chatting with Camilla on his cell-phone.

"Must you be so adamant about this?" he asked her.

"Yes," she insisted. "I want Carrie gone--forever. If you want me, that's my price."

"This is so crazy," he said.

"That's how much I love my Daddy," she said. "I only want what's best for him. He means more to me than anything, or anyone else."

"Are you sure there isn't more to this love of your dad than you're telling me? I get the feeling this really is a crazy love--maybe even a perverse one."

"Don't be silly. It's nothing like that."

"I don't know: I'm getting some weird vibes here."

She correctly sensed that the Nigrovum she'd passed onto Berman during their sex was making him psychically feel her incestuous passion for Agape; also, Candice had just walked in the apartment, so Camilla wanted to end the conversation quickly.

"Look just do it, OK? Bye." Camilla hung up.

"Getting other people to do your dirty deed, eh Camil?" Candice asked, psychically sensing the topic of Camilla's conversation with him. A vaguely red, hot, violent feeling was in Candice's heart, but still aimed nowhere in particular. "Recruiting to the max?"

"Doing whatever I have to do to get it done," Camilla said coldly. "You still haven't done it yet; and if you still haven't done it by tomorrow, I'm gone, remember."

Frowning, Candice looked at the drawer where she kept her heroin.

Berman, meanwhile, thought about his cell-phone conversation with Camilla.




Camilla Ch. 086



She says there's a pistol in her locker in Club Ritz, he thought; She'll show me where it is, and she guarantees she can use her 'powers' to make sure I won't get caught by the cops. And this is all for some anti-Semite sonofabitch? Her father, of all people, is a rival to my love, and the most despicable kind of rival I could ever have. I'd much rather kill him than his fiancee, if I were to kill anybody. Still, maybe my instincts are wrong; maybe she doesn't have incestuous feelings for him. Maybe I'm just going crazy: it sure feels that way. In any case, I've just got to have Camilla: if I were to marry her, I could introduce her to my family, and they'd all know that it was she who kissed me back in our Grade Five class, not me kissing her. They'd know I was innocent after all. They'd also see she truly loves me, and I could finally be forgiven by them. Camilla is my redemption--I must have her. If killing Carrie is the only way, then maybe I'll just have to do it. But Agape would still oppose his daughter marrying a Jew; killing him would remove that problem easily, as well as getting rid of someone I can't help thinking is a real rival. And what if Camilla fails to keep me from getting caught by the cops? I cannot go to jail again! What to do, what to do?...

*******************

On Monday night, Don Josiah was meditating on his bed, psychically communing with Agape and Ravinder. They were going over their plan to help Camilla, sensing how she was taking Nigrovum into darker and darker places.

Their plan to keep Carrie safe was a desperate, extreme, and most foolhardy one: they at times wondered if they were all indeed as mad as Camilla thought Singh was. They didn't feel mad; they were enjoying an indescribable spiritual peace through Nigrovum, a religious ecstasy.

Of course, Camilla had been enjoying an ecstasy of her own through Nigrovum, and she fancied herself a goddess. Not every good feeling is a healthy feeling.

Through Nigrovum, these three mystics could map the world Camilla was so afraid of, the one she experienced in her dreams. The men were also having those Nigrovum-inspired dreams, but they had become acquainted with other aspects of that 'other world'...heavenly aspects.

Furthermore, the men were coming to realize that 'heaven and hell' weren't the opposites their religious traditions had told them. They sensed a circular continuum ranging from the darkest hell, curling around and becoming gradually brighter and brighter until finally reaching the most blissful of heavens; that brightest bliss, however, touched against the darkest hell, and dissolved into it. Singh likened it to the ouroboros, a mystical serpent coiled in a circle, biting its tail. The head was heaven, and the tail was hell.

The three men, in their meditations, were hoping to be able to navigate that 'other world' so they, like bodhisattvas, could help Camilla when she joined them all in it. Then she would have a hope of being free of the burning mansion, the laughing masked men, and non-stop gang-bangs, for ever and ever and ever...

The problem was, if Camilla were to continue down the dark course she had been going on, always fucking and always using her power to manipulate people, and if she were to live a long life of non-stop sinning, getting her out of that hellish afterlife would be all the harder to do...

*******************

In Candice's apartment that same night, she and Camilla were making love. Candice had finished kissing Camilla on the face, and was moving down to suck on her breasts.

"Candice," Camilla moaned. "Tonight's our last night together."

"Are you...sure of that?" Candice said between kisses on Camilla's chest. "You'll miss...my tongue...and lips."

"You haven't...taken care of...Carrie. Oh!"

"Give me...more time." Candice was now sucking on Camilla's left breast.

"I'm shacking...up with Patrick. Ooh! Maybe he'll...kill her. Ah!"

"Maybe I will...before him." Candice moved over to the right breast.

"Maybe he will...before you. Oh! If he does, he'll be...my man, and you'll...be gone. Ah!"

"Give me time, please," Candice said, kissing her way down to Camilla's pussy.

"Only as much...time as there is...before Patrick kills her, or Mr. Berman, or Don. Oh!"

Candice buried her face in Camilla's muff, licking away with an electric, flickering tongue, and looking up at Camilla with mad, wild eyes. Finally, Camilla came in Candice's face, and she swallowed it all, licking the remainder off Camilla's pussy.

They lay side by side in bed and cuddled, slowly regaining their breath.

"Enjoy this while it lasts," Camilla said. "I'm gone tomorrow; only if you kill Carrie will I return. Goodnight." She kissed Candice on the cheek, then sat in meditation, setting up selective psychic barriers; she wanted a ghost-fuck from the desirable lovers of her past. She soon went to sleep.

Candice lay in bed, watching Camilla sleep and feeling that vague, red hot psychic hate in her. An aimless hate, an errant hate, an urge to destroy that was still without a definite target. Faces kept flying by in her mind: Agape, Camilla, Don, Carrie, Patrick, and herself. It was like a spinning wheel, taking ages to slow down to determine whom she'd point her killing instinct at. She fell asleep with no barriers set up at all, for she had no wish for protection at all: her killer instinct, given to her from Camilla's vampiress bite, may have been unfocused, but it was nonetheless strong.

In a dream the girls shared, they were in the burning mansion again, both being gang-banged.

Mr. Grisham was fucking Camilla's pussy; she was sucking Marcel's cock. Mr. Langella was fucking Camilla in the ass, and she was tit-fucking Dr. Davis.

"I'm so glad...I'm getting sex...from you guys," Camilla sighed as she received all four men's cocks. "Ah!"

"We're not so...happy about being here anymore, Camilla," Grisham moaned. "Unh! It is your fault we're all...down here after all."

"This is...a miserable place," Langella grunted. "Oh!"

"Fucking you...is our only pleasure," Davis groaned. "Ah!"

"You killed...us all," Marcel panted. "Unh!"

"Please don't...say that," she pleaded. "I need...some comfort. Oh!" She came.

The masked incubi allowed those four men to fuck Camilla, for they were enjoying Candice at the time. As with Camilla, Candice had one fucking her mouth, one fucking her pussy, one in her ass, and one with his cock between her tits. She didn't care who was ravishing her; she now welcomed violence and destruction. She looked over at Camilla and smiled eerily.

"You'll be...joining us...soon," the masked man in Candice's mouth said to her, looking down on her as she blew him, and laughing that grotesque, distorted, eerie laugh.

"FIne," Candice moaned after taking his cock out of her mouth. "Oh!" She came.

Candice woke up as soon as she came. She looked at the bedsheets, all stained with Camilla's come, then looked at Camilla.

Camilla, with her spread-out legs up over her head, was still receiving invisible cocks inside her pussy, asshole, and mouth. Invisible hands were squeezing her tits, which were still tit-fucking an invisible cock in between them. She just kept on coming and coming, messing up the sheets more and more.

Candice watched and watched with those wild eyes, smiling her eerie smile.

You'll fuck anyone, Camilla, she thought; I never mattered, of course.

Then she got out her heroin and a needle.



Camilla Ch. 087



After finishing her classes at York on Tuesday afternoon, 'Goth-looking' Camilla packed her bags and left Candice's apartment, reminding the lover she was dumping that, only if Candice got Don's pistol out of Camilla's locker in Club Ritz, and used it to shoot Carrie, would Camilla come back to Candice.

As 'Goth-looking' Candice watched Camilla take her bags into the elevator, and watched the elevator doors close, did Candice cry, or plead--however uselessly--to make Camilla change her mind and come back? No: Candice just watched Camilla go, staring with wild eyes and a facial expression that said, kill, kill, kill. But kill whom?

****************

Later that afternoon, Camilla psychically changed her black-haired, black-eyed, pale 'Goth' look back to her original blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look just before arriving in a cab at Patrick's house with her bags. The cabbie was stunned at her transformation, but quietly took her fare money and drove away.

Patrick helped Camilla take her bags inside his house, and put them on the floor in the living room. He and Camilla then sat on the sofa together; he looked out the window he'd looked through when seeing her with Gregg.

Looking back at her coldly, Patrick said, "You fucked Gregg last Saturday night."

"No, I didn't," she lied in her 'Dolly' voice, as she would speak for most of the rest of the conversation.

"Don't lie to me, Camilla," he said with growing anger. "I saw you, naked, getting out of his car with him and going into his house. I was watching through this window."

"OK, OK," she admitted. "I won't do it again." She leaned forward and, smiling, looked in his eyes. "Do you still want me?"

"Of course."

"How much do you want me?"

"For always," Patrick said.

"Oh, you don't really mean that," she said, knowing full well he did, but testing him all the same.

"I do. Really. Loving you always will redeem me."

"You mean loving me just for your late wife's sake."

"No, it's much more than that," he said. "Look, I've become really attached to you in this short time; I don't know how, I don't know why, I just need you. I'm in love with you. What makes you so addictive? Is it that 'psychic power' you keep talking about? Maybe I'm just going crazy, and I know this is sudden, but I want to marry you."

"Patrick, you just want my body," she said.

"No, it's not just that."

"Yes, it is; but that's OK. I don't mind; I understand. I really like your thing, and how good it makes me feel when it's inside me. And your hands: ooh, I'm getting all gooey inside just thinking about it. Let's screw now."

"Please, Camilla, in a minute. You must understand. I need you. I must marry you."

"But Patrick, I'm really not the marrying kind. If we get married, I'll cheat on you, like with Gregg."

"I'll forgive you--it'll be my punishment for cheating on Lisa," Patrick said. "Please give me a chance."

"How?" Camilla asked, already knowing exactly how, and leading up to making her request as carefully as possible.

"Let me prove my love. I'll do anything you want."

"Really?"

"Name it, and I'll do it."

"Well, there is one thing you could do..."

"Tell me," Patrick said eagerly. "It's already done, as far as I'm concerned."

"But it's too hard," she said.

"For your love, nothing is hard."

"No, Patrick. This is extreme...what I want."

"I'll do it."

"OK," she began, no longer in her 'Dolly' voice. "My daddy, whom I love more than anything in the world, has been hurt in love before--by my mommy, the bitch! She cheated on him, divorced him, and accused him of molesting me when I was little...but the accusations were lies, to get custody of me! She took me away from him. The pain she gave him drove him to drink!"

"That's awful," Patrick said.

"Yeah. Well, now Daddy's met this new woman--Carrie, ugh!--and she's the same kind of person; I know it, I get only bad psychic vibes from her, and you know how great my psychic powers are. They're accurate: Carrie will hurt my dad: he can't see it, but I know. I can't let her do that. When I warn him, he won't listen. They're getting married soon, and I have to stop it!" She began crying. "The only way I can stop it is...is..."

"Wait a minute; you don't want me to..."

"Shoot her."

"What?"

"I have a gun you can use," Camilla said. "It's in my locker in Club Ritz. I'll show you later. Wear gloves, and I'll use my psychic powers to keep the cops from knowing you did it."

"You're crazy," he said.

"I'm crazy for my daddy's love." When she said those words, her incestuous feelings radiated outward, and he psychically felt them, as Berman had.

"What kind of love is this you have for your dad?"

"Oh, it's innocent," she lied, most unconvincingly.

"You can't seriously expect me to kill his fiancee."

"If you don't, there's no marrying me." She stood up, took off her black dress--the one he'd bought her--and dropped it on the floor; then she kicked off her high heels. Wearing no underwear, she was now naked. She turned around for him, to 'help him' agree to kill Carrie.

"Oh, come on, Camilla," he panted lustfully as he ogled her delicious peach skin, pink nipples, and brown pubic hair. "Ask for something else."

"You promised you'd do anything for me."

"Yeah, buy you expensive jewellery, take you on trips to Hawaii or something; but not that. That's crazy."

"You don't love me," she said bitterly, turning around as if to leave. "Just like you didn't love Lisa."

"Get out!" he shouted. "Get your clothes on and go!"

"You sure about that?" she asked in her 'Dolly' voice again, bending over, spreading her legs, and showing off her pretty brown asshole. Then, looking back at his hungry eyes, she used Nigrovum to cool his anger quickly and heat up his lust. Within seconds, he was completely in her control.

"L-let me fuck that beautiful ass, and I'll kill Carrie."

"Promise first to kill Carrie, and my poo hole's yours."

He paused. "Oh, OK."

"Good," she said. "Now take me upstairs."

"I'm taking you here," he grunted, jumping her. She was on the wooden living room floor on all fours, with her legs spread out and her asshole showing. She took her tube of anal lube out of her purse and handed it to him. He lubed up his cock and her asshole, inside and out, then pushed the tip of his cock against her anal orifice.

"Uh," she moaned as she felt his cock push in an inch or two. As he slid in a few more inches, they were moaning together in alternating ascending and descending pitches.

He got his cock in all the way. "Unh!" he grunted, and she squealed two octaves higher.

Patrick aggressively thrust his cock in and out of her ass, reaching over and fondling her breasts. She fingered her hard clitoris as she felt his cock massaging her every anal wall, stimulating her neighbouring vaginal wall.

As he was ass-fucking her, Dan, his fat neighbour, came by and saw them through the living room window. Dan took out his cell-phone, set it to video, and began recording the ass-fuck.

"Finally," Dan said as he watched the image on his cell-phone. "I get to see the bitch in action. This is what you get for rejecting me, you ho."

Feeling the approach of an anal orgasm, Camilla reached in her purse and pulled out some tissues to catch her come. She covered her soaking pussy with them; when she came, completely drenching her tissues within seconds, a lot of drops still got on the wooden floor. Not wanting to soil his floor any more, she psychically accelerated his excitement, bringing him to ejaculation in the next few seconds.

"Pull it out," she said. "Come on my buns."

"OK," he said, pulling his cock out. He sprayed all over her anal cleft, her right buttock, her gluteal sulcus, and her back just above her left buttock. She took his cock in her hand and gently wiped the residual come from the tip of his cock on her left buttock.

He put his spent penis back in his pants and did them up. Then they lay on the floor, him on his back and her on her front. As they caught their breath, he stared at his come as it dripped off her pretty buns.

Dan kept filming, zooming in on the come on her ass. "That is so great," he said. "Sorry to use you, Patrick, but I have to get my revenge on that nudist cunt."

"Come with me to Club Ritz anytime between now and Thursday night," Camilla said in her normal voice, "and I'll show you where my locker is. Take out the gym bag that's in there. Have you ever fired a gun before?"

"Yeah," Patrick said. "I served in the army years ago."

"Good," she said. "This should be easy, then. Do you remember the house I used to live in? You walked me home one day after school."

"Yeah, in that nice neighbourhood."

"Carrie's living there with him, replacing me. Kill her."

Replacing you, eh? Patrick thought; That love you have for your dad doesn't sound innocent at all. I'm getting some psychic abilities of my own, Camilla, and knowing how this sick incestuous love of yours makes your dad my rival, I'm a little undecided about shootng Carrie, or killing him.

****************

That night, Don Josiah sat on his bed and meditated. As had been the case ever since last Friday night, when he'd given Camilla the gym bag with his pistol and box of blanks, he sensed no one going over to her locker in Club Ritz and taking the bag. His psychic powers assured him that it was still safely there, untouched.

He could also vaguely sense that though she'd been continuously going over to the park near his home to do some kind of bizarre 'target practice', but without the gun, she assuredly hadn't ever gone to Agape's house to fire at Carrie.

While he was relieved to know Carrie was still safe, he had conflicts in his mind about Camilla. His aspirations to grow spiritually with Nigrovum were being realized more and more each day, giving him soothing peace of mind; but his love for Camilla was also as strong as ever, since this addictive passion was as inspired by those microscopic black things in his blood as were his spiritual insights.

He wanted her, but was no longer desirable to her. To become a priest again, just to be more appealing to her transgressive lust, would have been an insult to his spiritual calling. But wearing the collar was the only way she'd be willing to be his lover again.

Also, as much as he liked Agape, Don knew her father was a rival for Camilla's love, something Mr. Berman, Candice, and now Patrick knew. His gun was still sitting in that locker, easily accessible to him: he could psychically figure out the correct combination to the lock and get the gym bag. He wanted to retrieve the bag, but why? Out of repentance for having so stupidly given it to Camilla, and so to stop a murder, or out of a desire to do a murder himself? Agape was a rival: killing him would put that problem to an end. Killing Carrie, as hateful an idea as that was to him, might have inspired in Camilla a gratitude that could conceivably have gotten her back in Don's arms.

Madness, he thought; sheer madness! I must wipe those temptations out of my mind.

To fight those thoughts, he closed his eyes and contemplated the Oneness of all things that he had been getting increasingly acquainted with. His visions of an infinite ocean surrounded him, and he felt himself absorbed in its bliss. The slowly undulating waves calmed his troubled heart, and he could now think clearly.

In that deep meditative state, he could feel the psychic presence of Agape and Dr. Singh, who were at that moment also meditating. The three mystics could now mentally commune, and go over their plans together, to help Carrie and Camilla. The men were learning how to navigate that other world, as they called it. In the darkest regions of it, where Camilla's soul was unswervingly headed, the men saw visions of a burning mansion, eerily laughing men in grotesque masks and black suits, and the incessant gang-raping of naked, lost souls of both sexes. The sight was horrifying to contemplate as a fate for Camilla; if she went there, the three mystics, dead or alive, would have to guide her out of it.

The men's plan to save Camilla was a desperate one, and a mad one, but no other way seemed possible. She couldn't be allowed to live for too long in her sinful state. The hell she was ultimately destined for would only be harder to get her out of if she were to continue living, sinning, and accumulating more bad karma as the years went by. She would have to die young.

*****************

On Wednesday afternoon, after finishing her classes at York, 'Goth' Camilla was in Dr. Mason's house again, for her third therapy session. With her black hair tied back in a bun, she was wearing a new skin-tight, one-piece black outfit, to replace the one she'd torn in her fight with Sam and those other men in the parking lot behind Club Ritz. Ready to do some sexy crying for her therapist, she removed her emotionally numbing psychic dome.

She sat at her chair, and Dr. Mason finished writing on his notepad. "So, how are you today, Camilla?" he asked.

"Oh, fine," she said with a smile. "Wanna fuck?"

"Uh, later," he said, blushing. "Just because I've slept with you doesn't mean I don't care about you, sweetie. How's your relationship with your dad these days?"

"Shitty, as usual," she said.

"You need to replace him, Camilla," he said.

"Well, I have, for the moment," she said.

"Oh? Who's the lucky guy? Or girl?"

"His name's Patrick; I'm shacked up with him. You can still fuck me, though, if you want."

He chuckled. "So, it isn't serious with Patrick."

"No. Not at all," she said. "He has a big dick, and he satisfies my needs."

"He satisfies your physical needs," Dr. Mason said. "But not your need for love. Then you still have no replacement for your father."

"No one can replace Daddy, Doctor."

"Someone must replace him," he said.

She began her rapid-fire, crazy speech again: "Look, I've tried replacements: my profs at York, an artist back in Vancouver named Carl--wow, he was hot; Dr. Davis, who saved me from ODing on speedball once; my former boss, Mr. Holland, whose wife used to hit him; then, of course, there were all my high school teachers, and my old..."

"Wait a minute," Dr. Mason interrupted. "You fucked your high school teachers?"

"Yeah, back when I was in grade twelve," she said. "Not all of them, of course. Some of them were too ugly."

"OK, how many of them did you have sex with?"

"Oh, about...half the faculty."

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah. I once went back to my old primary school, just after graduating from high school; and I fucked some of my old teachers there, too."

"Wow," Dr. Mason said, quickly writing to catch up with what she was saying.

"You see, Daddy's a York professor, so I'm naturally drawn to teachers, men your age--you know, smart guys."

"I see." Dr. Mason smiled as he continued writing.

"My point is, I've tried it with other men similar to Daddy, to replace him. It's been fun with all those guys, but they're never good enough to replace Daddy."

"Well, you can't have your father, Camilla," Dr. Mason said. "I'm sorry, but he's taken, and he's dead against incest."

"Well," she said, sobbing. "What am I gonna do?"

"You're a beautiful girl, Camilla," he said, giving her a tissue. "You must be up to your armpits in guys chasing you. How about dating younger guys?"

"No! I don't like them. They're boys; I want a man."

"A young man is still a man, Camilla."

"But they're all immature assholes! They're rude. Dumb. Mean."

"Not all of them are; and remember that some older men are assholes."

"Not as many as there are younger assholes," she said, still crying.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Camilla."

"The only young guys I could ever find attractive are, well, quiet and shy ones, raised right by their moms."

"That's interesting," he said.

"Sometimes I give those kinds of boys lap dances at Club Ritz. Some of them are kinda cute...and sweet."

"Well, there you go. Why not try dating a few of those nice 'boys'?"

"I guess I could. Look, I'm getting kind of sick of talking. Are we gonna screw soon, or what? I'm getting a little edgy."

"Oh, alright then," Dr. Mason said.

They went upstairs to his bedroom. He took off his shoes, then got some paper towels and put them all over his bed, in anticipation of her gushing come. He pulled off his pants and underwear, and sat on the bed, watching her.

She stood in front of him, slowly dancing and turning around. When her back was to him, he reached up and slowly unzipped her black outfit at the back, pulling the zipper from her neck down to her buttocks. She pulled the skin-tight material off her shoulders and pulled it all down to her feet, bending over with her buttocks just inches from his sniffing nose. She took off her black high heels, then pulled her feet out of the outfit. She was now completely naked. He licked his lips at the sight of her pale, 'Goth-girl' skin.

Still bent over, she spread her legs out wide so he could see her purple pussy and black asshole. She looked back at him upside-down from between her legs, smiling. He licked her all the way from her clitoris up to her asshole in one slow, long, inclusive lick. She squealed with pleasure. Then she got on the bed on all fours, still proudly showing off her pussy and asshole.

He got on the bed behind her, doggy-style, and aimed his hard cock at her wet, inviting vulva. He pushed his knob against her tingling vaginal orifice, sliding his cock in a few inches. She sighed and screamed as she felt his manhood brush against her G-spot. He pushed in further, and she screamed even louder; he got in three-quarters of the way, and she was already approaching orgasm.

As soon as his cock got all the way in, giving her hot A-spot a poke, she gushed her first ejaculation, soaking his cock and balls. He gently jabbed that A-spot again and again, and she screamed and screamed. Her vaginal walls eagerly and tightly embraced his long, thick cock, and she came a second time.

"Oh!" she squealed. "Wanna fuck...my ass, Doc? Ah!"

"OK," he panted, then pulled his cock out of her pussy. He scooped up some of the come she'd soaked his paper towels with, and smeared her asshole with it, pushing his wet finger deep inside and thoroughly lubing it. Then he pushed the tip of his cock against her welcoming, opening anus.

He pushed in a few inches, and she looked back at him with encouraging eyes. He pushed in further, getting in half way.

"Ah!" she groaned. "You like...my poop-hole, Doc? Oh!"

"Oh, yeah," he grunted. "Oh!" He got his cock all the way in, and began thrusting.

He reached over and felt her tits, gently squeezing them and pinching the nipples as he continued fucking her ass. She reached back and fingered her cunt, putting her finger inside and tickling her G-spot. She came a third time.

"When you're...about to come," she sighed, "Oh! Pull out. I'll blow you. Ah!"

"That would be...about now," he moaned. "Unh!" He pulled his cock out of her ass.

She got off the bed, and he sat at the side of the bed. She knelt between his legs and took his cock in her hand, raising it up to her mouth. Smiling lewdly at him, she licked the underside of his cock, just under the knob; then she wrapped her wet lips around the knob, sliding his cock in a third of the way.

He suddenly blew his load, and she gulped every blast down, missing nothing. When he was completely spent, she took his flaccid penis out.

"Did I...please you, Doctor?" she asked, looking up into his eyes and grinning.




Camilla Ch. 087



"Yeah," he panted. "You were...amazing, as always."

"Thank you," she sighed.

"Try younger men. It may help you."

"I'll think about it."

********************

After leaving Dr. Mason's house, Camilla went to that park again, for more target practice.

She was determined to hit that centre tree this time. If she missed, she'd use Nigrovum to heal her sore, bleeding finger quickly, then try to regain her focus as soon as possible so she could try again. On the other two occasions, when she'd fired and missed, she was always too mentally drained from overuse of Nigrovum to take second shots; this time, she was going to try either to get her aim just right the first time, or to get rid of that drained feeling quickly.

She pointed her right index finger at the tree, aiming as if her finger was the barrel of Don's pistol. She concentrated hard, visualizing the feel, weight, and internal structure of that gun, and imagining her finger to be exactly the same.

As she focused, her hateful feelings for Carrie were ballooning inside her heart again, distorting her sense of her surroundings. She fought hard to reverse this blurring, keeping her hand as steady as possible. She looked at that tree, thinking hard about hitting the centre of it.

Finally, she 'fired', and her finger felt a sharp pain as the psychic bullet came flying out in a straight line. "Ow!" she yelled. "Fuck!"

She hit the centre tree, dead in the middle.

"I did it," she said in disbelief. "Maybe I can kill Carrie myself after all. I may not need those other guys to do it for me, if my marksmanship stays the same. Carrie, I'm coming to get you."

Camilla put her sore finger in her mouth and sucked the blood off as she walked towards the swings.

But I'm not killing her tonight, she thought; My finger hurts too much. It sucks that I can practice only one shot at a time. Apart from the pain, I'm always too mentally wiped out to keep practicing. Why does Nigrovum's power have to have these limitations? Maybe I'll kill Carrie tomorrow night. Between now and then, Candice, Mr. Berman, and Patrick will first have a chance to prove their love to me.

She sat on a swing, closed her eyes, and began meditating on Agape again.

Please, let me find some sexy thoughts about me this time, she thought.

She psychically scanned the darkest areas of his subconscious for any possible incestuous feelings that her father may have had for her; she did a thorough sweep of his brain, spending almost a half hour searching and searching, and not wanting to get up until she'd found something.

Still, she found nothing to her liking.

Every desire the man had was for making love with Carrie: kissing her, holding her, and fondling her ageing body. After a gruelling fifteen minutes or so of this jealousy-inspiring ordeal, Camilla could go no further.

Now Camilla searched his mind for all his thoughts about her. She ran past image after image of innocent, sentimental feelings of dandling her, as a little girl, on his knee, hugging her when she was crying, and kissing her on the forehead. Though the mental scenes of him comforting her reminded her of how much she was so deeply in love with him, her heart was aching from never seeing any images of him wanting to fuck her as an 18-year-old.

Again, after about fifteen minutes of going through those exclusively innocent thoughts, she gave up in frustration.

"Fuck!" she said. Carrie's gotta go, she thought; but even when she's gone, how am I gonna make Daddy want me as he does her?

********************

Later that night, Berman found the address where Agape and Carrie lived. As well as giving Berman Agape's address the day before, Camilla had shown him where the gun was in her locker, though he hadn't taken it.

He stood on the sidewalk, just staring at the house. His mind was splitting apart in two opposite directions: killing Carrie was the only way to get Camilla's love (she wouldn't be talked out of that), and he couldn't live without her; but he didn't want to kill anyone, except maybe her father.

Another conflict was with her father: Berman so hated anti-Semites, from all his life experiences having been baited for being a Jew, that killing a Jew-hater seemed more a public service than a crime. Yet killing Camilla's father would only make her hate Berman. He couldn't see how this Carrie could have been such a bad woman; Camilla was obviously jealous, and killing her wouldn't bring Berman any closer to winning Camilla's love, because she obviously wanted to have her father.

Killing Carrie was the only way to get Camilla's love, yet murder would bring a prison sentence. Camilla claimed her psychic powers would stop the cops from linking the crime to him, but why was she to be believed? With Carrie killed, Camilla could have just had Berman convicted of the crime, then she could have her father. This seemed like an obvious trap, and she was obviously using Berman, yet he was so insanely in love with her that he couldn't resist falling into the trap. He'd been in love many times before, but something--seemingly swimming in his blood--was intensifying this love so much that reason had become a completely alien concept to him.

As alien as those tiny black 'eggs'.

********************

Both Agape and Don psychically sensed that 'gunshot', as well as Berman's presence in front of Agape's house, as they meditated in their bedrooms that night. The men sensed no gun in either Camilla's or Berman's hands. Agape and Don were also completely puzzled as to how Camilla could have fired at targets with no gun. Their sense of what she'd been doing was blurred, because she was always blocking their attempts at mental probes of her.

Indeed, it was precisely her blocking of the two men that was forcing them to use the extreme measures they were using. They couldn't find her whereabouts, so they couldn't talk to her face-to-face. They knew her psychic powers were so strong that the police would have been of no help. If she was blocking Don and Agape, and psychically keeping them far away from her, they couldn't communicate with her at all. That meant that they couldn't reason with her, and make her see the folly of what she was trying to do.

They had only one choice: to draw her out, and have her make an attempt on Carrie's life.

The men sensed Camilla would try to kill Carrie only in Agape's house at night, the safest place and time. Having Camilla in Agape's house, he would be there with her to protect Carrie, and Don could be there to help him. Then they'd have a hope of talking some sense into Camilla, and of stopping her.

And if they couldn't stop her from being violent, then maybe a change of the victims of that violence would serve their purpose.

Agape had an invisible psychic dome covering Carrie as a protective barrier; he'd instantly be able to sense Camilla trying to weaken it, then he'd strengthen it, twice as strong as before. No matter where Carrie was, she'd be safe. At night, in their home, Agape would occasionally, briefly remove the dome to lure Camilla out. She wasn't coming that night, so Carrie's dome was set and secure.

Agape was meditating, navigating the other world, sensing all the gradations form the darkest hell, where he hoped Camilla would never go upon death, and the higher, more 'celestial' realms, where he was assured he'd go upon dying. His spiritual growth was so impressive, he hadn't had a drop of booze for the past several weeks!

In his growing enlightenment, he realized that this physical world was insignificant next to the other world: that world is our true destiny. Though Agape was terrified of Camilla's killing Carrie, he was even more afraid of how much karmic damage that murder would do to his daughter's soul. Camilla had always been troubled; true peace of mind was something that had been denied her for too long, and Agape was determined she'd have it one day.

No matter what the cost, in this world.

********************

On Thursday night at Club Ritz, Camilla sat at a table, fuming in frustration that no one had come to take the gym bag out of her locker. Patrick hadn't shown up to take it, though she'd shown him where it was the day before; Mr. Berman hadn't shown up since she'd shown him her locker two days before; and Candice was way too high on dope to come near the locker. Not even Don had come over to try to get his gun back.

Now Candice still had that wild look in her eyes, the look of a killer...an unfocused killer. It actually frightened Camilla to look in Candice's eyes, for she had no idea what violent thoughts Candice was thinking. Candice was psychically blocking Camilla's attempts to find out: she was obviously stronger with Nigrovum than Camilla had originally thought.

Camilla wasn't so sure if giving Candice that 'vampiress bite', and passing all her hate into Candice's blood, was such a good idea. Still, Camilla had vague hopes Candice would use that aggression to Camilla's advantage, and kill Carrie; after all, Candice was still in love with Camilla.

Giving up in total frustration, Camilla left Club Ritz at about midnight and went back to Patrick's house. He wasn't home: she psychically scanned his whereabouts. He was getting drunk in a bar not too far away from Club Ritz, but the strip joint would close soon, and Camilla doubted he'd get over there in time to get the gym bag before closing time.

She went upstairs, went into the bedroom, got naked, and got in bed. She was so frustrated that she forgot to set up the psychic barriers again.

She soon fell asleep. In her dream, she was in the burning mansion again, on basement one. She was being gang-banged by Larre, Wayne, Leroy, and Holland. This seemed like a pleasant surprise to her; she actually imagined she'd have a pleasant dream for a change.

She was sucking Larre's cock, Wayne's was fucking her tits, Leroy was fucking her pussy, and Holland was ass-fucking her.

When Larre was about to come, he pulled his cock out suddenly and rained his come all over her face. She looked up at him and asked, "Did you...like that? Ah!"

"Yeah," Larre panted. "But I hate you."

"Why?" she asked. "I just...got you off. Oh!"

"It's your fault...we're all here," Wayne grunted, spewing his come on her face. "Oh!"

"We're miserable...here. Unh!" Leroy groaned as he kept thrusting inside her cunt.

"I wish...I'd never...met you," Holland said, his cock sliding in and out of her ass. "Ah!"

"But I...saved you...from your wife," she sighed. "Oh!"

"No, you didn't," Holland said. "Ow!" Mrs. Holland, having suddenly appeared, hit him on the back with a baseball bat. She then pulled him away.

"Still fucking that slut?" Mrs. Holland growled. "Let the masked men have her! You're mine!"

Camilla looked around, and indeed, she was now being gang-banged by four masked men, with one fucking her mouth, one fucking her tits, one fucking her pussy, and one fucking her ass, just as before. The Vancouver punks were standing by, watching and laughing.

"If you think...your plan will work," the masked man she was blowing said, "you're in...for a big...surprise!" He laughed his eerie laugh, as did the other masked gang-bangers with him.

"We're up next, big titty bitch!" the leader of the Vancouver punks said. "When you die, we're gonna gang rape you for ever, and ever, and ever!" The punks joined the masked men in laughing at Camilla.

Then the incubi all began singing a variation to the lyrics of Trampauline's song: "She wants to get gang-banged! She's gonna get gang-banged!"

Camilla suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. What if the incubi are so powerful with Nigrovum, they come into this world and interfere with my killing of Carrie? My finger doesn't hurt anymore; I'm going over to Daddy's house and killing her now, while the incubi aren't yet too powerful.

She got out of bed, got dressed, and left the house. At 2 PM, Patrick still hadn't come home.

********************

Agape woke up, sensing that Camilla was coming. He undid Carrie's psychic dome to lure Camilla. He yawned in bed.

This is it, he thought; the moment of truth. He yawned again.

Though he was deeply worried about what would happen, he was also extremely tired from having slept so little throughout the week, obviously from the same worry. To calm himself, he visualized that mystical, infinite ocean that is everything, and its slowly moving waves calmed him...to the point of nodding off...

********************

Desiree had stayed at Club Ritz late, until 2:10 in the morning before going home. She'd been giving the boss blow jobs in his office, and the fun had just kept on going until a ridiculously late hour.

She went to the room where the lockers were, and noticed Camilla's locker door wide open. Camilla's jacket and some high heels were inside--and that was all.

"Damn, Camilla," Desiree said. "What you leaving your locker door open for? I hope nothing was stolen." She closed the door, reset the padlock, and left.



Camilla Ch. 088



Around 5 AM, someone driving in Agape's neighbourhood saw a black-haired woman walking out of Agape's house and onto the sidewalk. The dress she was wearing looked familiar.

"That's one of Carrie's dresses, isn't it?" the driver said. 

When the woman had walked far away enough not to notice the car, the driver parked in front of Agape's house, got out of the car, and went over to the side of the house.

The sun was just starting to come up, allowing only a slight hint of light. The driver looked through the window of the side door, which led into the kitchen. The dim light allowed the sight of only a pool of blood on the floor, and a hand lying palm up in the blood. The naked eye wouldn't have even seen if the hand was a man's or a woman's, it was so dark; but the driver knew who was lying there.

Walking quickly back to the sidewalk to see where the black-haired woman was going, the driver took out a cell-phone and dialled a number. The woman was walking towards that tall apartment building where, in one particular room neighbouring that of a fat young man, there had been much lesbian lovemaking, as well as a lot of heroin use. 

"Hello, police?" the driver said into the phone.

*****************

Patrick, piss drunk, had arrived home at about 3 AM. He'd turned on his computer and sent an e-mail to all of his family and friends. This is what it said:

I can't live with what I've done. My selfishness has resulted in death, undeserved death. I, however, do deserve to die. Sorry, but I can't take the pain anymore. Something inside me, in my blood, has made me inhuman, a monster. The pain I feel weighs down on me; I can't breathe. Sorry, and goodbye. 

Patrick

He'd left the house ten minutes after sending the e-mail, having left the computer on so Camilla could see the message when she came back.

*****************

The black-haired woman went into the apartment building with her hair hanging down over her face, covering it almost completely. She pressed the elevator button and waited.

How could everything have gone so wrong? she thought. The elevator opened, and she got in.

*****************

At about 5:30 AM, Mr. Berman's housemates forced their way into his bedroom after he hadn't answered their repeated knocking; they found him hanging by the neck from a sturdy light on the ceiling. A chair was lying on its side by his dangling feet.

"What the fuck?" one of them said, almost falling on the floor in shock.

The other housemate, with his hand over his mouth in case he threw up, went over to Berman's computer, moving the mouse and noticing, on the monitor, a draft of an e-mail, sent to Berman's family, friends, and boss. This is what it said:

I've done many bad things in my life, some real, and some imagined by slanderers. But the worst thing I ever did was fall in love with one of my former students. She made me do things that I, in my right mind, would never have done. I hate myself for being weak enough to get mixed up with a girl half my age. My family despises me, I've lost my self-respect as a former teacher, and I've degraded myself beyond redemption. 

This self-hate has pulled me down so low in depression that I literally can't even move, except with great effort. Something...alien...is inside me, making me feel even more ashamed that can be put into words. I can't bear this agony anymore. Sorry, but goodbye.

Adam Berman

*****************

As the driver, frowning, waited for the police to arrive, he psychically scanned the bullet that had been shot, to ensure that the ballistic fingerprinting would match the bullet to the gun. Sensing different markings, and concentrating with closed eyes, he mentally adjusted the markings to ensure accuracy.

It's a perfect match now, he thought; I'm ready. He saw a police car coming down the road, and rushed to his car to get something.

*****************

As the elevator went up to the right floor, the black-haired girl went over in her mind what had happened three hours before.

I put my gloved hands on the doorknob of the front door, she thought, then I psychically scanned for the locking mechanism and the burglar alarm, assuming they'd be set. But bizarrely, the burglar alarm wasn't on, and the door was unlocked! Had someone already come in to do the job? It didn't feel that way. Anyway, I obviously didn't need Nigrovum to help me get in. I opened the door carefully and quietly, and I walked in, removing my coat and high heels and leaving them by the door. I crept over to the kitchen; then I sensed someone coming down the stairs from the bedroom. But who was it? Was I being psychically blocked? As I heard the person coming towards the kitchen, I hid behind the fridge, waiting to fire...

*****************

At about 5:45 AM, a police car drove by the scene of a car crash. Patrick's car was smashed against the side of a building. Patrick's bloody, lifeless body was leaning against the steering wheel, his mouth kissing the ever-beeping horn.

*****************

Two police officers, one male, the other female, got out of their car and walked up the driveway to Agape's house, where the driver, sobbing, was sitting on the porch with the gym bag on his lap.

"You reported a murder, sir?" the policewoman asked.

"Yes," the driver said, wiping tears from his eyes. "My name is Don Josiah, and three hours ago, I shot and killed Agape Mennon."

*****************

The elevator doors opened, and the black-haired girl got out and went down the hall. The fat neighbour opened his door slightly to ogle her. She gave him a look that would have made the evil eye seem friendly; he quickly shrank back and closed his door. 

She got out a key and unlocked the door to the room across the hall from the fat man's. She went in, still thinking about what had happened in Agape's kitchen.

I felt that urge swelling up inside me, she thought; Kill! Kill! Kill! My hate and lust for violence was distorting my thinking, and though I couldn't psychically focus on who was entering the kitchen, I knew I wanted to shoot that person, whoever he--or she--was. I took off my gloves and got ready to aim.

She went over to the bedroom, about to open the door; still, she went over in her mind what had gone awry in Agape's kitchen.

I aimed as my victim came in the kitchen and turned on the light, she thought; I saw Carrie. "Ca--?" she began to say.

The black-haired girl opened the bedroom door, turned on the light, and looked at a pile of blankets on the bed, covering most of the motionless body of a pale-skinned girl with black fingernails. Walking closer to the body on the bed, she barely seemed to notice the disturbing sight, for she simply couldn't stop obsessing about the tragedy that had occurred in that kitchen.

I fired, she thought; as soon as the bullet hit 'Carrie' in the chest, 'she' suddenly changed into Daddy! He'd been using Nigrovum to trick me into thinking he was her! This was his plan to protect her from me. The sharp sting in my fingertip, which dripped ignored blood on the floor, was a pleasure to feel compared to the shaking of my heart. 

Camilla pulled the blankets aside and saw the open-eyed, pale face of 'Goth-looking' Candice lying on the bed, dead from a deliberate overdose of heroin. Wearing no makeup, her lips were nonetheless jet black, and her baggy eyes suggested black eyeshadow.

"So now I know where you were aiming your killer instinct, Candice," Camilla said, beginning to cry. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

*****************

Agape's body was put on a stretcher and in an ambulance. The police handcuffed Don, while Carrie, sobbing in loud, high-pitched shrieks, watched him being put in the back seat of the police car.

"Please forgive me, Carrie," he said, still crying. "I was out of my mind; I didn't know what I was doing."

Carrie, with her face blanketed in tears, watched the police car drive away. Then she thought she heard--or, more accurately, felt--a voice, Agape's, 'saying', Don't cry, sweetie. I'll be right by your side, every second of every day. And wait for your dreams: there you'll have a taste of heaven, with me, every minute of every night.

*****************

Don mediated in the back seat of the car, communing with Agape's spirit. We did it, Don thought; Camilla has absolutely no reason to kill Carrie now, for without you, her father, Camilla has no prize to claim.

Agape: That's right. It's a good thing you got to her locker in that strip joint, just in time before it closed. 

Don: This power we have, it sure is convenient, allowing me to open the padlock just by mentally scanning for the right combination; and psychically distracting everyone else, so no one would notice me in the locker room. I got my gym bag out, and left safely. I'm so glad no one else got to it before me.

Agape: And with the markings on her mental 'bullet' altered to match your gun, the evidence will point only to you, and not to Camilla. She'll be safe from any suspicion in the murder. You sacrificed your freedom for the girl you love, my daughter. Thank you so much.

Don: Oh, that's nothing. You sacrificed your life for the woman you love. That was very brave.

Agape: I hope Carrie will be alright. I'll comfort her in her dreams. And now that I'm in this other world, I can navigate it more skillfully, so when Camilla dies and arrives in the darker areas, I can rescue her faster and more assuredly.

Don: I wish Camilla could appreciate the value of sacrifice, for it is true love, not incessant sexual conquests.

Agape: Yes, and I hate to wish an early death on my daughter, but she mustn't build up any more bad karma. It will only make it harder to get her out of hell.

******************

Camilla sat on Candice's bed. She'd removed her emotionally numbing psychic dome, for she knew she had to have a crying moment for her father, to remind herself that she was still human. Always crying, she continued going over in her mind what had happened in Agape's house:

"Daddy!" she screamed, grabbing him and breaking his fall. She laid him gently on the kitchen floor on his back, and knelt beside him. "I'm so sorry! I can heal you. I'll use my power to get the bullet out."

"No," Agape said, coughing out blood. "Let me die."

She tried visualizing her 'bullet' disintegrating, and the wound closing, but Agape wouldn't let her psychic energy touch his body. 

"Daddy, why are you blocking me?" she cried, desperately trying to break through the force field he'd put between her healing energy and his wound. "I can save you: let me save you!"

"No," he said, smiling serenely as he looked up at her lovingly. "You must...let go...of me." He coughed out more blood.

"No!" she screamed, bawling and crying. "Carrie! Help me! Daddy's dying!"

"She can't...hear you. I've put...a dome...around her. It...protects her...and blocks...out sound."

"Why do you want to die? That's despair. That's a sin. You know what the Church teaches. You'll go to hell."

"No, I won't. I don't...want to die. I must die."

"Why?"

"To save you...from yourself. It's you...who'll go...to hell...when you die. I must get...you out...of there. My dying...will teach you...to let go...of your desires."

"No, Daddy. Please! Don't you die on me. I love you." She was sobbing so intensely that her inarticulate words were now barely intelligible.

"I love...you, too. But I...love Carrie," he said, still spitting out blood.

"Yes! You must live for her!" Camilla cried.

"Then what? You try...to kill her...again?"

"No, I won't."

"You will," he said, his voice getting weaker and weaker.

"I won't, Daddy. I promise. I learned my lesson. I'll be good, I swear. I'm sorry I hated her."

"You still do. I can't...be with her...if you...oppose our...togetherness. You must learn...the consequences...of your actions. Saying sorry...and promising...without keeping...the promise...won't be...enough. In the...other world, I'll be waiting. When you're...in hell, Don and I...will get...you out."

"Don's not dead, is he?" Camilla asked.

"No, not yet. But alive...or dead, he'll help you...as will...Dr. Singh."

"No, Daddy. Don't listen to Ravinder. He's gone crazy with this power."

"No. He's right. The masked men...want you."

"Oh, no," Camilla said in softer sobs. "Nigrovum's made you crazy, too."

"No. It's given...me peace. You can...have it, too."

"I can't have peace, Daddy. I'm too horny. I'm being eaten up by desire."

"That's why...I must...save you," Agape said. "You can...be saved." 

"It's too late for me."

"It's never...too late, sweetie."

"But I always want sex. I can't stop wanting it. It's an addiction."

"The masked men...make you want it. They make it...an addiction...to make you...their slave. But I'll save you, sweetie. I promise."

"Oh, Daddy. You're so sweet to me. I love you. Oh, I want you." She, breathing heavily, reached down to kiss him on the lips, craving to drink his blood and make it mix with hers.

"No, my daughter. I won't...take part...in your...filthy desires." 

"Let me kiss your mouth." Her lips got closer and closer to his.

"You'll have...my body," he said, feeling his life drain out of his body, "but my spirit...will repel...all incest. I'll be...in your...dreams tonight, and...every night..."

As soon as her lips met his, he died. She kissed him passionately, putting her tongue inside and snaking it around his motionless tongue. Sensing the lifelessness of his body, she acted fast.

"I'll reanimate you," she said with a shaking voice. She stared intensely at his vacant eyes, visualizing them moving and showing human expressiveness again. They moved ever so slightly, if soullessly; it was enough for her to continue trying. Come back, she thought, imagining his resurrected body; come back to life, for one last fuck.

As she continued focusing and concentrating on her meditation, her hair began to flutter out at the sides, as if a wind was blowing on it; her entire eyeballs also temporarily turned pitch black. The energy of Nigrovum vibrated from her hands into his lifeless body, electrifying it from head to toe. She was breathing heavily and hoarsely as she sent her psychic energy pulsating throughout his corpse, which, within seconds, seemed no longer to be a corpse. Indeed, his body slowly began to make ever so slight movements in the hands, legs, and head.

Encouraged by this progress she was making, and madly covetous of every inch of his--as she saw it--sacred body, she bent down to his chest, in the middle, where the bullet hole was; careful not to suck the bullet out, she began sucking out his blood, in large gulps. I will have as much of you inside my body as I can, she thought. Though she felt saintliness in his energy, she ignored that aspect completely.

His body was now moving, if mechanically. She then focused on his cock. She unzipped his pants and pulled it out, visualizing it as fully erect. She grinned salaciously as she watched it slowly grow and thicken into a rock-hard phallus. Her dress was soaked in his blood; she took it off and threw it on the kitchen floor near the entrance to the living room, outside the ever-widening pool of blood. Wearing no underwear, she was naked.

She got on top of him in the cowgirl position, and held his artificial hard-on below her descending pussy, which was already wet with lecherous expectation. She slowly fed it in, the dead member that eighteen years ago had given her life. Sighing hoarsely as she felt his hugeness filling her up and stimulating her every vaginal wall, she thought, I can only temporarily reanimate you. But if I can make you come in this resurrected state, I can get pregnant with your child. I'll use Nigrovum to ensure that no birth defects result from inbreeding, and in a way I'll have you back, however indirectly.

She fucked and fucked, screaming and squealing from the probings of the best cock she had ever felt--and would ever feel--in her whole life. Even as a cool, reanimated corpse, he was hot! She came, her ejaculation mixing with his blood. She kept him hard, and continued fucking. 

In a way, this was the best fuck she'd ever had with him, even with him dead: for she didn't have to divide her attention by psychically making herself look like Carrie, to fool him--she could focus completely on her lust; also, with Carrie in a soundproof psychic dome, Camilla didn't have to worry about her lovemaking being interrupted; best of all, she could keep this reanimated corpse going, and going, and going, for it was only about a quarter after three in the morning. They could keep fucking until sun-up, and she wouldn't get tired! 

She came a second time, and her come poured out on his lap, surrounded by his pool of blood. She continued fucking.

As she bounced on his cock, she reached down to drink more of his blood from the wound in his chest. Her face was dripping with red, but she loved it, because it was his blood. She came a third time. Now she wanted to use Nigrovum to make him come: she visualized that cock inside her about to spout, as it tickled and massaged her G-spot, A-spot, and all her vaginal walls. Finally, he 'came', and she gleefully felt his love-juice flowing inside her. 

She got up, feeling his tingling cock slide along her vaginal walls and come out of her soaking pussy. Then she went down on his lap and sucked all her come, with his blood, off his lap, using Nigrovum to ensure that absolutely no traces of her come remained. 

Suddenly, she remembered her bleeding finger: she mentally healed it within seconds, and sucked her blood off; then she scanned the room for drops of her blood on the floor--it had mixed with her father's. She psychically made her blood merge with his so completely, and indistinguishably, that no blood analysis would recognize any of it as hers. 

Then she took her come, which she'd psychically separated from his, from out of her pussy and lubed her ass with it. Noticing his erection going soft again, she mentally got it hard again and sat on it, slowly feeding it inside her rectum. As his cock slid in and out, she thought, since this is going to be our last fuck, Daddy, I'm making sure it's our best--one epic, necrophile fuck!

She went up and down, up and down on his cock, loving how its thickness and length stimulated her anal walls thoroughly. Her only regret--apart from, obviously, her accidental killing of him--was that he wasn't enjoying the fuck as much as she was. After several minutes of intense ass-fucking, which caused her to have an anal orgasm, she pulled his cock out and flipped around for some ass-to-mouth. 

After drinking all of the come from her anal orgasm from his cock, balls, and lap, and enjoying its mixture with his still-flowing blood, she slowly took his cock in her mouth, licking the tip and underside, and taking his shaft in half-way. 

She blew him with a most ironic joie de vivre. She took his cock out of her mouth and sucked on his balls for a while, her tongue kicking them alternately and feeling them bounce off the roof of her mouth. Then she put his cock in her mouth again, deep-throating him: his blood-stained pubic hair went up her nostrils, and she sneezed as the drops went up her nose. She thrilled to feel the knob of his cock down in her throat. As she continued to have the entire length of his manhood in her mouth, she gently shook his balls with her hands. 




Camilla Ch. 088



My idea of heaven is always fucking you, Daddy, she thought, forever, and ever, and ever.

Finally, she pulled his cock out with a popping sound. Aiming his cock right at her nose, she mentally made him come all over her face, hitting her nose, her left eye, her right cheek, and lips, and her chin. She giggled, and licked all his come off his cock; then she put his cock back in his pants and zipped them up. She used Nigrovum to stop reanimating him, and his body fell limp on the floor.

She got up and looked at her dress, stained with his blood. "Must get rid of the evidence," she said, then went to the ground floor bathroom. First, she washed as much of the blood off her dress as she could get off it, careful to make sure the blood all went down the drain. Then she let the shower water rain all over her blood-soaked naked body. As she, sobbing again, washed her body clean with thoroughly-lathered soap, the tears running down her face seemed to compete in quantity with all the water coming from the shower nozzle. She wanted to be cleansed of her sin, but she would be clean only in body.

After getting out of the shower and drying off, she found one of Carrie's dresses, which was lying on a chair in the living room, and put it on. She took a cloth and wiped away any drops of blood she'd left in a trail from the kitchen to the bathroom. She then went back into the kitchen and looked at Agape's body. Still sobbing, she realized she had to pull herself together. She put up that emotionally numbing psychic dome around her, and felt a fading away of her urge to cry, replaced with an almost inhumanly blank facial expression. 

Then she used Nigrovum to remove all of her fingerprints from the scene of the crime. She also tried her best to make her bullet match those she'd sensed in Don's box of bullets; she didn't do a very good job of cloning them, but Don would correct her inaccuracies soon enough--in fact, he was waiting in his car a block or so down the street. 

Camilla now scanned Agape's semen in her vagina--with Nigrovum's help, she realized that it had been sterilized! Did Daddy have a vasectomy? she thought; well, I'm going to have a baby, come hell or high water.

It was around 4 AM now; she went into the living room and sat on his chair. She began to meditate. She channeled all the psychic energy of every lover she'd had, focusing on her favourite men--and women: Mr. Grisham, Wayne, Mr. Hanson, Mr. Langella, Mr. Baker, Carl, Troy, Candice, Akemi, Belle, Mr. Leroy, Bob, Mr. Patterson, Li-ping, Don, Dr. Singh, Alex, Mr. Holland, Dr. Davis, Marcel, Dr. Lee, Dr. Lawson, Dr. Abruzzi, Dr. Martin, Patrick, Mr. Berman, and, of course, her father.

She amalgamated all of them into one perfect entity: with, for example, Dr. Lawson's intelligence, Agape's sweetness, Wayne's kindness, Li-ping's gentleness, Akemi's virginal naivete, Candice's loyalty, and Carl's creative genius. 

With her dishevelled hair flowing in, as it were, an imaginary wind, and her eyeballs completely black again, Camilla chanted, "Come, you spirits, sex me here. Fill me, from head to toe, with a mother's fertility. Make my womb round, let no sterility thwart my purpose. Make my breasts full of sweet milk. Give me a son, a beautiful, perfect baby boy." If I can make a bullet 'ex nihilo', and can reanimate a corpse, she thought, surely I can create a human life out of nothing, too.

She carefully visualized every feature of her boy-to-be, wanting no defects anywhere in or on his body, or in his mind. He'd grow to be handsome, he'd eventually be a big, strong man, he'd have genius intelligence, he'd be in perfect health, both physically and mentally. She imagined his future brain, hair, eyes, ears, face, bones, spinal cord, heart, lungs, stomach, kidneys, intestines, genitals, arms, legs, hands, feet, fingers, and toes, all in perfect working order. His nervous system, lymphatic system, circulatory system, and digestive system would all be flawless.

There would be no chemical imbalances or 'faulty wiring' of any sort in his brain. She vividly imagined her son's future personality: gentle, soft-spoken, patient, considerate, polite, generous, and loving. Completely devoted to his Mommy. 

In the intensity of her concentration, she became aroused again, feeling the combined psychic energy of all her past lovers stimulating her vaginal walls, her anal walls, her nipples, and her skin. It felt like two dozen hands were gently stroking, caressing, and fingering every inch of her body, leaving not a goose bump untouched. Anticipating an orgasm, she lay on the living room floor on her back. She put her legs up, and raised her ass up off the floor.

When she came, she used Nigrovum to make her come fly in an arc and fall, with perfect aim, into her mouth. She swallowed it all, and not even as much as one drop trickled down her cheek. 

Then she put on her coat and shoes, stuffed her bloody old dress in her purse, and went out of the house.

****************

A week later, a funeral was arranged for Agape. Camilla and Carrie held hands and wept together during the whole service. After the service, they talked.

"I'm so sorry, Carrie," Camilla said in sobs.

"Why do you keep apologizing?" Carrie asked. "Don's the one who killed him, not you."

"Well, yeah," Camilla lied, with effort. "But it was Don's love for me that led to this. He went crazy because I neglected him."

"I see," Carrie said, hugging Camilla, and psychically sensing, vaguely, dishonesty in her. All the same, Carrie was too bereaved to pursue these suspicions at the time.

"I miss Daddy so much," Camilla sobbed.

"So do I," Carrie said. "So do I."

"I dream about Daddy."

"So do I; it's comforting."

****************

Candice's body was taken back to Vancouver for a private family funeral. Camilla wasn't invited to this funeral, because her family blamed Camilla for corrupting Candice with sex, drugs, and partying. Camilla planned, when she found the time, to visit Vancouver, find Candice's grave, and lay some flowers on it. That free time, however, would never come. 

****************

Camilla was now living in Candice's old apartment. In her eager expectation to see Agape in her dreams, Camilla often went to sleep at night quickly, forgetting to set up protective psychic barriers, as she had that night.

In basement three of the burning mansion, naked Camilla was being gang-raped by the four Vancouver punks. The leader of the punks had his cock in her mouth; another punk fucked her tits, another her pussy, and the fourth fucked her ass.

"We'll be...rapin' you...like this...forever, big titty bitch!" the leader grunted. "Forever, and ever, and--"

"No, you won't!" Agape said when appearing. He waved his hand quickly, as if to swat a fly, and all four punks were psychically thrown to the other side of the room. The masked men, standing in a circle surrounding everyone, just watched the scene and laughed eerily.

"What the fuck?" one of the punks said after getting up. "We were banging that girl."

"She's my daughter," Agape said, staring the punk down.

"Then you're dead, Pop," the leader said, approaching Agape with clenched fists, as were the other three punks.

"We're already dead, Einstein," Agape said. Then he psychically confined the punks in a thick dome. They punched and kicked at it, but couldn't get out.

"Hey, you fucker," one of the punks yelled, his voice muffled inside. "Get us out of this!"

"Thank you, Daddy," Camilla said, sitting on the floor. "My hero."

"Let's put some clothes on you," he said.

"But I wanna be naked and sexy for you," she said. 

"No. You're my daughter. Fathers and daughters are not lovers, Camilla. You must accept that."

"But I love you," she said, beginning to sob.

"Then love me honourably."

"Oh, alright, I'll try. But how will you save me from this place?"

"Only with your cooperation," he said, handing her a dress. "Get up. Put this on, and come with me."

She got up and put on the dress. He led her to a black wall at the side of the room. 

The masked men, naturally not wanting Camilla to escape, started closing in on her and Agape; but he thrust his hand out forward, psychically knocking down those in front of him and Camilla and pushing them aside. Then he set up a psychic force field, a glowing wall of blue light separating the masked men from him and Camilla. She touched the black wall at the side of the room: it was soft, gelatinous, and muddy.

"Oh, Daddy, it's disguising," she said, grimacing at the feel and smell of the wall. "Do I really have to go through it?"

"Yes," Agape said. "Go quickly. The force field and dome won't last long. The masked men and those punks will soon be upon us again."

They pushed their way through the thick, black slime that made up the wall. After pushing through about five feet of the revolting muck, they got into another room where an orgy was taking place. Everywhere, naked men and women were engaging in group sex.

Camilla saw Li-ping being gang-banged by three masked men: one with his cock in her mouth, another fucking her pussy, and the third fucking her ass. Jasmine and Candice were making love in the 69 position. Calina had Clarence's cock in her pussy, as well as another black man's cock in her mouth, and another's in her ass. A fourth black man was fucking her tits. Many surrounding masked men watched, and laughed their distorted laughs.

"Oh, this looks like fun, Daddy," Camilla said, taking off her dress. "Let's stay."

"No, Camilla!" Agape shouted. "No more sex. This room is just meant to tempt you, and lure you back to that other room, where you'll be raped again. Put your dress back on, and come with me. Hurry, before it's too late."

"Oh, Daddy!"

"Come on!" He grabbed her by the arm and pulled. "There's a much better place than this, a peaceful one." 

She resisted, crying, "No, I don't wanna go!"

Camilla suddenly woke up.

"Oh, I just wanted to have some fun, Daddy," she said.

***************** 

A month later, Camilla sat on her bed and meditated, psychically feeling the beginning of the embryonic period of her pregnancy.

She could sense the beginning formation of such things as the embryo's brain, spinal cord, and heart. She visualized every part of that beginning embryo, scanning for any possible defects. So far, everything seemed perfect.

"Amazing," she said. "I've created an embryo in my own body, without a man's help. I am a goddess."

*****************

Two days later, Don Josiah was taken to his prison cell. Since he'd signed a full confession to the murder of Agape, and his and Camilla's use of Nigrovum ensured that no one found any traces of contrary evidence, nothing at all could have led to his acquittal and her being charged with the crime. He was thus quickly taken to Kingston Penitentiary to serve his sentence. 

He sat on his bed in the cell as a guard closed and locked the cell door. It was nighttime, and the lights would soon go off. The inmate sharing his cell, a big, muscular man leaning against a wall, looked at him.

"What are you in for?" he asked, sneering at Don.

"Murder," Don said, keeping his cool. "What about you?"

"Triple murder," the inmate said. "I'm doing life; no hope of ever getting out."

"I see," Don said. "Who'd you kill?"

"Is that any of your fuckin' business?"

"No, but since we're going to be sharing this cell, it won't hurt to get to know each other."

"I'm no stranger to doin' time, but it always used to be for stealing. This time, I killed three priests, and I'm not sorry about it."

"Why did you kill them?" Don asked.

"I used to be an altar boy for the local Catholic church," the inmate said. "The priests took turns fuckin' me in the ass when I was ten."

"That's awful."

"I hate all priests; whenever a so-called 'man of God' comes around, the guards have to keep me from killing him. I see a preacher, I kill him instantly--simple as that."

"Well, not all priests and ministers are as bad as the ones who made you suffer," Don said, sensing the danger he was exposing himself to; but instead of fearing it, he actually welcomed it. 

"What you defending them for?" The inmate got off the wall and approached Don threateningly. The lights went off.

"Because I used to be an ordained priest, and I never--"

"Close enough for me!" 

Don closed his eyes, took a breath, and sat peacefully as the priest-hater got near him. 

The inmate grabbed Don by the neck, put his head in a headlock, and twisted it. Don's neck snapped, killing him. 

The inmate took bedsheets from off Don's bed, and tore strips off them to make makeshift ropes. He tied Don's arms up high on the bars of the cell door, stretching them out so that Don's lifeless body hung like Christ on the Cross.

That was unpleasant, Don's spirit thought; but I'm useless to Agape and Camilla in a prison cell. My dodging violent criminals all the time would have only distracted me from navigating the other world, and helping Agape. Now I can be of much better use to him, and can help Camilla. The physical world is but a pastime; this other world is the real world.

*****************

Several nights later, 'Goth' Camilla again went to sleep without psychic barriers, happy to have her father rescue her from incubi rapists.

In her dream, she, naked, was making love with Li-ping, Calina, Akemi, and 'Goth' Candice in the burning mansion. Camilla licked Li-ping's pussy, Calina sucked Camilla's right breast, Akemi ate Camilla's pussy, and Candice sucked Camilla's left tit.

Suddenly, Candice reached up and bared vampiress fangs at Camilla, grinning eerily.

"Candice!" Camilla said. "What are you doing?"

Candice reached over and bit Camilla on the neck, as she had bitten Candice's almost two months before. Candice greedily sucked Camilla's blood, which poured down her neck, then let go. 

"Ow!" Camilla yelled. "Why'd you do that, baby?"

"I am yours," Candice said with a hoarse voice, and still with that wild look in her eyes. "Forever, and ever, and ever. Remember, Camil?"

"Forgive me, Candice," Camilla said in sobs. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Neither did I, in biting you," Candice lied, smiling bitterly.

Then Don appeared in priestly attire, showing the crucifix on his necklace to the naked succubi.

"Go away," he said to them. "Leave Camilla alone."

"That won't work on us," Candice said, baring her fangs and laughing at him. "You have to have faith for that work on me; and you're not even a priest anymore."

"You're not a real vampiress," he said. "And I have a new kind of faith...and power." He thrust the crucifix in his hand out again, visualizing the crucifix as glowing with Nigrovum's energy. The succubi were all thrown back. He had them surrounded in a psychic dome, glowing in light blue. 

He then gave Camilla a dress to put on.

"Oh, Father Josiah," she said, putting the dress on the floor. "I like being naked. You like me this way, too, and you know it. C'mon: let's fuck."

"No," he said firmly. "Put the dress on, and come with me."

"But you're so hot-looking as a priest," she said.

"Stop this nonsense and put the dress on."

"No! You want me to abstain from sex, just like Daddy does."

"Freeing you from your addictive desires is the only way to save you from this place." He picked up the dress.

"But I don't wanna give up sex!"

"You must! Your lust will destroy you." He handed her the dress again.

"No!" she said, throwing the dress further away on the floor.

She woke up. 

"If I have to give up sex," she said, "then I'm destined for hell...unless Nigrovum can grant me immortality."

****************

Two and a half months later, Camilla was in Club Ritz, with her hair and eyes changed back to their original blonde and blue, her skin its original peach colour, and all her other body colours as they had been before Nigrovum gave her her 'Goth' look. She was in a private room with a cute eighteen-year-old boy, lap-dancing him. 

She was aggressively rubbing and grinding her ass against his hard cock. Fondling her breasts, he was panting with lust, even though her aggressive pushing on his cock almost made him feel as if it would snap off. 

He moved his right hand off her breast and went down to touch her slightly round belly. He asked, "Are you pregnant?"

"Yeah," she said with a proud grin. "About sixteen weeks now." She stood up, with her ass in front of his face.

"Wow," he said. "I think pregnant women are hot." He opened her buttocks wide to see her puckered brown asshole.

"Thank you, Allen," she said. "You're sweet."

"Hasn't it been uncomfortable for you to work like this?" He was fingering her asshole.

"Not at all. Never."

"What? You mean you've never felt morning sickness or anything?" He slid his finger between her legs. 

"Absolutely none," she sighed, turning around and facing him.

"How can that be?" he asked, tickling her wet pussy.

"I have special powers." She sat on his lap. 

"Powers?" he asked with a sneer. "What powers?"

"Oh, let's just call them friends in high places." She put her hand on the bulge in his pants, massaging it. 

"I see," he panted, still not believing her and fingering her asshole again. "Who's the father?"

"Nobody," she said with wide-open eyes.

"Oh, fuck off." 

"Allen! Nice boys don't say bad words."

"Well, stupid boys believe BS like what you're telling me. Who d'you think you are anyway, the Virgin Mary?"

"No," she said, smirking. "I'm a goddess."

"Well, you may be beautiful enough to be a go--"

Suddenly, she psychically turned the lights on brighter, then changed her looks back to her black-haired, pale-skinned 'Goth' look. His jaw dropped to the ground.

"Now, do you believe me?" she asked with a grin, then stood up.

"Goddess!" he said with a look of awe in his eyes.

"Get down and pray."

He got down on his knees before her. She sat on her chair with her legs spread out, and he put his face between her thighs. His tongue frantically licked her shaved wet pussy; she ran her hands through his hair and moaned softly. He put his hands on her belly, gently caressing where the foetus was. He felt his tongue lick as if it had a mind of its own: indeed, she was psychically controlling it, to ensure she got better head. He was shocked, yet thrilled, at his sudden loss of control. 

His tongue flickered wildly against her hard clitoris, and he sucked on her swelling labia. Then she got up and turned around; he opened her buttocks and started licking and kissing her asshole. His lips and tongue went all over her crack. She fingered her clitoris as he licked away.

Then she turned around, feeling her orgasm coming. He put his face into her crotch and resumed licking there. She, sighing up high, came a cascade all over his face. 

"I baptize thee...in the name...of the Goddess," she sighed.

"And I'll worship thee, gladly," Allen said, licking her come off his lips. 

"Good," she said. "Later, I'll give you instructions on how to worship me. In the meantime, pay me, and go in peace." 

******************

That night, Camilla fell asleep and dreamed without psychic barriers again.

In the burning mansion, Patrick was fucking her ass, Berman was fucking her pussy, Baker's cock was between her tits, and Marcel was receiving a blow job from her. Though she worked hard to please all four men, they were looking hatefully in her eyes.




Camilla Ch. 088



"My wife...is being raped...somewhere in here," Patrick said as his cock slid in and out of her ass. "it's your fault...she and I...committed suicide." 

"Same here," Berman said, pumping his cock aggressively in her cunt. "You ruined...my whole life."

With Marcel's cock slipping in and out of her mouth, she could answer these accusations only with moans and groans. 

Baker squeezed her tits against his cock with the intent of hurting them. "All sex...and no love...make..."

"...you all bad men," Agape said when suddenly appearing. With a shake of his hand, he used his mental powers to knock all four men off of her. When they tried to get back on her, he created a psychic wall separating them from her and him. They punched and kicked at it, but couldn't get through. Agape gave Camilla another dress. "Hurry up: put this on and let's go."

She put the dress on, and he took her by the hand. They jumped through the black wall of slime, and were able to get into the orgy room much faster. Before she could get a chance and look at all the delightful sex going on there, he pulled her by the arm and led her to the next wall of slime. Again, they jumped through it, and felt the black slime change into fresh water. When they reached the surface of the water, they found themselves in a swimming pool. They got out of the water, and opened a door at the side, leading to the next room.

Here they saw a high school gym, where teenage boys were with their dates during a prom. The boys and girls dancing looked lovingly in each other's eyes. 

"See, Camilla?" Agape said. "This is what being in love is like. It's innocent, sweet, and..."

"Kinda dull," she said. "I liked the orgy room better."

"Well, if you want better than this," he said, "come with me."

They ran to a black wall on the far side of the gym; again, it was made of gelatinous muck. They jumped into it, and the slime again changed into fresh, clean water. The surface of this water was one of the walls of the next room: a playroom for kindergarten children. They pulled themselves out of the water-wall, fell on the floor in front of it, then stood up, looking around the play area. 

Here they saw little four- and five-year-old boys and girls swimming in a sea of multi-coloured plastic balls, laughing and jumping around. Their moms and dads stood in a circle around them, watching and smiling lovingly at them. 

"See, Camilla?" Agape said. "Sweet comes to sweeter."

"And more boring," she said.

"And nobody's getting hurt. People are together, enjoying each other's company, not just grabbing pleasure for themselves, at the expense of other people."

"Yeah, but I still don't like it."

"Come on," he said. "Into the balls: let's swim down to the bottom." They went into the balls, crawling and kicking their way, deeper and deeper, until the balls changed once again into pure, clean water, which then in turn changed into clouds, out of which Agape and Camilla gently floated downwards, onto the grass of the yard of a beautiful mansion. She looked up at the bright spring sky, and the lovely green countryside that surrounded her and Agape. 

"This is beautiful," she said.

"Yes," he said. "Here is salvation. The mansion has many rooms where you can rest and recreate yourself. It's not the absolute, ultimate bliss, but it's a kind of 'Pure Land', if you will: ideally suited for preparing oneself for that final nirvana."

"Well, it's nice, but still boring. Where's the sex?"

"Camilla, there's no need for sex here. Here we have something much better. Here we have love, friendship, and companionship."

"Oh, Daddy, is this the only way to save me from that burning place?"

"Yes, it is the only way, sweetie. It's also a long, slow process. You must accustom yourself to the intermediate rooms we saw before, to teach you to give up your addictive desires and replace them with more wholesome ones."

"Can't we do it faster at least?" she asked, frowning in disappointment.

"No. I'm just showing you the final destination now, so you'll see the goal: true bliss."

"I have to go through all those boring places first? And stay in them a long time?"

"Yes," he said. "But I assure you, it will be well worth it."

"Not in my opinion," she said, jumping up as high as she could, to reach the clouds. She disappeared in them, hoping to make her way back to the orgy room and have some fun. Agape jumped up into the clouds to try to stop her.

She woke up. 

"Heaven ain't a good place to be," she concluded. "And hell is horrible." But Nigrovum is the greatest technology ever, she thought; there are so many apps, that I'm only starting to learn about. If I can create things out of nothing, including life out of nothing, surely I can extend life, maybe even forever. I'll bet I can keep myself young, disease-free, and protected from any kind of life-threatening situations, if I use Nigrovum right. I'll bet I can stay alive--forever, and ever, and ever...

****************

Two and a half months later, Camilla met a new photographer named Geoff. She went to his studio apartment a day after meeting him for a photo shoot and to do some POV video. 

She'd gotten Bob's old POV camera back when he was arrested, so she gave it to Geoff to wear. He eagerly agreed to be her POV lover as well as her photographer and video man. 

With the camera strapped to his face, Geoff lay on his bed on his back and pulled his pants and underwear down. She gladly took off her maternity clothes, thinking she looked ugly in them, and when fully naked, she got on top of him in the cowgirl position. As she aimed his hard cock at her slowly descending vagina, she could feel the 'quickening' of her baby.

"Ooh! My baby moved!" she said. "I love it when I can feel him doing that!"

"Pregnant women are so hot," Geoff said. "And this is my first time to fuck one. This is going to be fun!" She giggled.

He looked up at her and switched the camera on to PLAY. Here is what was filmed: you are Geoff, for you see what he saw during the sex.

You look at her large breasts and round belly as she feeds your cock inside her wet pussy. She looks up and sighs to feel your cock filling her up. You put your hands on her big belly, gently caressing it.

Your cock is all the way in, and she squeals with pleasure. She is bouncing up and down on your cock; you watch her breasts bouncing with her. She is screaming and squealing, and you look down at your cock as it disappears in her soaking wet pussy and reappears. The bed is squeaking with her bouncing, squeaking almost in harmony with her squeals and your groans. 

Finally, she comes, flooding your lap and making a mess on the sheets. She gets up, getting your cock out of her. You look down at all of her glorious come, all over you and the bed. She gets off the bed, kneels on the floor at the side of the bed, and you get up and sit on the bedside, looking down at her. Between your legs, she goes down on your cock, licking the tip and underside of it before putting it half-way inside her mouth. She looks up at you with a lewd smirk as she slides your cock in and out of her salivating mouth. 

She can sense you're about to come, and she moves her head up and down on your cock faster and faster. Just at the point of ejaculation, she pulls her head back, releasing your cock with a popping sound. Your come splashes in her left eye, her left cheek, her nose, her chin, and on her right cheek. She looks up at you and giggles as your come drips off her face. 

Geoff pressed STOP. "That was...incredible," he panted.

*****************

As the days and weeks went by, Camilla was using her psychic powers to 'void out' all dream visions, heavenly or hellish. The whole idea of an afterlife had become utterly hateful to her. 

Every night, before going to bed, she would sit and meditate, no longer setting up mere psychic barriers to protect herself from incubi rapists. Now she focused on seeing a peaceful black environment, with absolutely nothing there to frighten her or trouble her; also, there would be a most peaceful silence, allowing her to get perfect, uninterrupted sleeps--the first she'd had in about half a year. 

No longer would she see visions of a burning mansion, with masked men or incubi forcing themselves on her. No longer would she see any of her former lovers aggressively fucking her, with hateful, unforgiving looks in their eyes. And no longer would she even see her father, or the ex-priest, exhorting her to give up her life of pleasure, only to be in a state of boring bliss. 

Now Agape and Don were very worried about this alarming turn of events, since it thwarted their hopes of preventing her from accumulating more bad karma. Neither they nor Dr. Singh could communicate with her now. 

This didn't bother her, though, of course: now she could focus on salvation by immortality.

*****************

By the time she'd reached her seventh month of pregnancy, 19-year-old Camilla was getting sick and tired of it. She was longing to have her old, curvaceous body back, since the novelty of being sexy for pregnancy fetishists had long worn off. 

Furthermore, the summer had arrived, and she'd written all her exams, successfully finishing her first year of university. She was starving for a summer of no-limit partying, and she wasn't going to let pregnancy or motherhood slow her down. 

She decided to take her psychic powers to the next level. All through the months of her pregnancy, she'd meditated, carefully scanning for any defects in her baby; she was most pleased never to find any in the slightest. This good luck encouraged her to be bold with Nigrovum: she would use it to speed up her third trimester so she could have the baby, not after another month, but in another week! 

Meditating intensely for an hour every day during that week, she visualized her baby's faster development, careful to make vivid mental pictures of her boy's every physical and mental feature, imagining them all as being in perfect health and functionality. Having looked through all the illustrations of a copy of Gray's Anatomy, she made sure she didn't neglect or ignore any part of the boy's anatomy, always visualizing utter perfection.

Finally, she went into labour in early July. She'd lied to the doctors and nurses when she was brought into Toronto General Hospital, telling them she'd conceived in October. Giving birth was agonizing for her, since she had to focus on having the baby, and thus couldn't focus on using Nigrovum to ease the pain. 

But when having the baby was over, she was much more worried, because she was desperately anxious to see him, and make sure there was nothing wrong with him. Had she overlooked something? Would she really have a beautiful, healthy baby boy, or a deformed monster? She was shaking with fear, and almost hysterical in her impatience.

"Please, nurse," she said as she lay in bed. "When can I see my baby?"

"Don't worry," the nurse said as she adjusted the sheets on Camilla's bed. "You'll see him soon. And we've seen the baby. He's beautiful. He's perfect. You have nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of course we are," the nurse said. "it's our job to be sure about these things. Please, get some rest."

Several minutes later, a second nurse came into the room with Camilla's baby. "Here you are," the nurse said, putting the baby in Camilla's arms.

Sobbing with joy, Camilla looked at him and said, "He's beautiful. Is he really normal?"

"Absolutely," the second nurse said.

"No defects or anything?" Camilla asked.

"Of course not. Why are you so worried about that? This is a happy moment for you: enjoy it, Mommy."

'You're right," Camilla said, looking down lovingly at her boy. She did a quick psychic scan of the boy's body, from head to toe. She found no problems at all. He was rather large for a newborn baby, with piercing black eyes, pale skin, and black hair. But he was beautiful. He smiled lovingly at her; indeed, he was quite thrilled to be with his mother. She sighed loudly with relief. Still crying, she said, "Your name is Eros. You're perfect. The son of a goddess." 

END OF PART TWO



Camilla Ch. 089



18 years later, in late August, in Montreal

*

Camilla was now 37 years old; thanks to her use of Nigrovum to slow down the ageing process, however, she looked only 25! She'd been a lecturer on English literature in McGill University for the past nine years, having started her teaching job there quite soon after receiving her doctoral degree.

So where was she now?

Was she teaching a class? Was she doing research?

Neither.

She was naked, hovering inches above the surface of the water of a tank in a public aquarium, facing the ceiling, with her spread-out legs up over her head; she was being gang-banged by the ghosts of former lovers she'd had back during a vacation in Thailand, eighteen years before!

She'd accumulated hundreds of lovers over the past eighteen years, lovers of whom the vast majority had already died from the maddening effects of the Nigrovum she'd been sexually transmitting; with the aid of this accumulation, the collective psychic power of the masked Satanists, those both alive and dead, was now most formidable. It was their combined mental power that stripped Camilla naked against her will, forced the nude woman to run all the way--in broad daylight, with people all around watching her in disbelief--from her home to a newly-built public aquarium in downtown Montreal, and kept her floating over the surface of the water, continually gushing come into it. Soon after each ejaculation, she'd piss into the water, and occasionally even shit in it.

All the fish in the water tank had died from the toxicity of a few hours of her spewings. The masked Satanists had psychically clogged the drains, so it was only a matter of time before the pressure caused by her soiling was to cause the glass to break, flooding everyone watching her.

And indeed, many, many people were watching this most unusual sight. The water-tank glass separating naked Camilla from her viewers was like a movie screen in a theatre, or a large flat-screen TV. Not only were many lecherous men (and more than a few similarly-minded women) getting video of the gang-bang on their cell-phone cameras, but news media from countries around the world were filming her and reporting the headlining story. The viewing area was crowded with voyeurs, all looking up through the glass at the naked woman being fucked in her mouth, pussy, and asshole by invisible dicks, her tits squeezed by invisible hands.

Some men got up high, eye-level with her and squatting on a high ledge where, conveniently, her spread was facing them, from only about five feet away. The men were able to get clear, up-close images of her gaping pussy and asshole as they were being pumped by invisible cocks. All Camilla could do was look helplessly at the cell-phone cameras, for her own psychic powers were far from sufficient to fight off the ghosts and end her ongoing public humiliation. Come and piss kept gushing from her cunt.

No one could help her: the masked men were psychically controlling the police, army, media, and owners of the aquarium, mentally blocking them all from doing anything about the situation. A force field was surrounding her body in an invisible dome, allowing no one to get to her, cover her up, and get her out of there. Now, none of those preventive measures even seemed necessary for the Satanists, for everyone watching, whether there in person, or at home watching the spectacle on TV, just stared passively and stupidly, mesmerized and motionless, with agape eyes and mouths.

With an invisible hard-on poking in her mouth and making her right cheek pouch out and in, out and in, Camilla couldn't even scream for help. She could only think, How could I have allowed all of this to happen?

After a few more hours of the endless gang-bang, she heard the disembodied voices of some of the Satanists.

This is just the beginning, Camilla.

No hope for a rest.

No rest for the wicked.

Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.

Man will die in the filth we leave him in.

Then, she heard three other voices, more comforting ones.

Agape: We'll get you out of this, sweetie. Don't worry.

Don: It will be hard, but we can help you, if you let us.

Dr. Singh: I have friends in Vancouver who'll help, too.

Did you die, too, Ravinder? Camilla mentally communicated.

Singh: No, I've been in Vancouver, all these years, growing with Nigrovum's power. You shouldn't have shut me out of your life like you did. I warned you: I hope you now finally see I'm not crazy.

Camilla: Sorry, Ravinder.

Don: Now do you finally see the consequences of your actions?

Camilla: Sorry, Father Josiah.

Agape: Sorry isn't enough. You must change.

Camilla: I can't, Daddy.

She wanted to cry, but couldn't. The shame of the situation, having now gone on, without rest, for the whole afternoon, was completely unbearable for her; but she was still too afraid to die, for fear of suffering much worse in Hell. The only psychic power she found she could effectively use was to relive old memories in visions, in a kind of out-of-body experience.

She began with a vision from the summer, eighteen years before, when she'd just given birth to her son, Eros Neville Mennon.

Shortly after she got out of the Toronto hospital, Camilla took her baby to the clothing store in the Eaton's Centre, where Patrick had bought her that black evening gown. Knowing Clara, the lesbian owner of the store, had the hots for her, Camilla showed her the baby.

"Wow, he's beautiful," Clara said, picking him up and cradling him in her arms.

"Thanks," Camilla said. She then looked intensely in Clara's eyes, sending psychic waves from her eyes into Clara's. "I'm going on vacation to Thailand. You're going to watch my baby for me."

"I'm going to watch your baby for you," Clara said in a monotone voice; Nigrovum's psychic power was vibrating throughout her body, forcing her to obey.

"You'll take good care of him," Camilla continued.

"I'll take good care of him," Clara answered.

"You'll never let him out of your sight."

"I'll never let him out of my sight."

"You'll love him as if he were your own child."

"I'll love him as if he were my own child."

"He''ll be perfect when I get him back."

"He'll be perfect when you get him back."

"Thanks, Clara. You'll be rewarded for this kind favour." Camilla grinned pleasantly.

"You're welcome, Camilla. I'll be rewarded for this kind favour." Clara similarly smiled, completely forgetting the dialogue she'd just had with Camilla, but subconsciously obedient all the same.

"Bye," Camilla said, walking out of the store, and ignoring Eros's beginning to cry.

**************

In early August, Camilla went on her vacation to Thailand with Veronica, a sultry red-headed stripper from Club Ritz. After hanging out in Bangkok for a few days, they went to Pattaya Beach. Camilla was impressed with the 'lady-boys' she saw walking about everywhere, completely open about their fondness for dressing like women, and often cunningly successful at really looking feminine. Camilla frequently didn't even notice Adam's apples on the transvestites.

"I think it's proper for boys to worship feminine beauty like that," she told Veronica as they walked over to the beach in the afternoon. "Goddesses' male priests are often eunuchs in drag."

"Oh, you don't want them cutting that off, now, do you?" Veronica asked with a giggle. "What a waste that would be."

"Oh, no, they should keep their dicks, absolutely, so they can please the Goddess with them," Camilla insisted. "But worshipping the Goddess means imitating her, dressing like her. I'd appreciate my boy admirers doing that for me."

"You deserve it, Goddess," Veronica said, pecking Camilla on the lips. "I'm still awed by your power."

"You'll get it, too," Camilla said, "after we've made love enough times, and you've drunk enough of my come."

When they got to a dock, they rented a boat and sailed out on the water in Pattaya Bay. Camilla changed from her black-haired, pale 'Goth' look to her original blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look. Veronica just watched in amazement. "Wow," she said.

"You'll soon be able to do stuff like that, too," Camilla said, taking off her red string bikini and flip-flops. Now naked, she said, "You'll see: Nigrovum's power is unlimited."

"I can't wait," Veronica said, stripping out of her yellow string bikini and flip-flops. Now she, too, was naked, except for a golden, stringy, see-through sash she had around her waist. Veronica had silicone tits, but perfectly shaped ones; indeed, it was their all-too-perfect shape that gave their phoniness away. Her soft, pink areolae looked like disk-shaped gum drops. She also had a silver ring in her navel, and skin as peach-coloured and delectable as Camilla's. Veronica leaned proudly against the side rail of the boat, hoping to attract desirable men, as did Camilla, of course.

Nude Camilla, wearing only sunglasses and an orange-yellow flower in her hair, sat on steel rails on the front of the boat, with her legs spread wide open, proudly displaying her body to any other people sailing in Pattaya Bay that sunny afternoon. She used Nigrovum to scan for any sailing men who'd be desirable to her and Veronica. The men didn't have to be older to appeal to Camilla; they just had to be good-looking, well-hung, and intelligent.

Her psychic powers found a boat with men fitting that description within a few minutes of intense concentration; she caused the boat to come close enough to see her frontal nudity, while pretending not to know they were looking. Knowing Veronica's tastes in men, Camilla was lucky to find one man in that boat whom her redhead friend would like.

As the boat came closer, Camilla--still pretending to be unaware of her voyeurs--happily allowed the men's eyes to pour all over her delicious flesh.

"Holy fuck!" the man steering the men's boat said upon seeing Camilla's tits and pussy. "Guys, come up front and check this out!" The other men came over: their jaws dropped, and their cocks rose in their swimsuits.

After having given the men a generous enough look at her body, Camilla went back to join Veronica at the back of their boat; they got down on the floor, on all fours, beside each other. Veronica removed her stringy sash, and Camilla took off her sunglasses. With their legs spread out and their asses pushed up, the girls gleefully displayed their assholes and pussies--pink, perfect, and shaved--to the men, whose boat was now beside the girls'. The men got out their cell-phones, switched them to camera mode, and started taking pictures of the naked girls, who gently kissed each other, always pretending not to notice the men.

Then Camilla and Veronica turned around and lay on their backs side by side, with their legs still spread wide open, and their pussies showing for the men's hungry cameras. Camilla's pussy was shaved like a landing strip; Veronica fingered her completely hairless pussy as she and Camilla looked at each other and talked.

"I love sunbathing here, don't you?" Camilla asked, speaking in her sultry 'Marilyn' voice, with her eyes and mouth agape.

"Yeah," Veronica said. "I feel so free here, with no one to bother us."

"Not a care in the world," Camilla said; then she pecked Veronica on the lips.

The men snuck on the girls' boat, as quietly as they could, to get a closer look. They stood before the naked girls, still taking pictures. The girls never looked away from each other, maintaining the illusion that they didn't know the men were studying their nakedness.

"Why don't they say anything about us?" one man said as he took pictures of Camilla's pussy.

"Shut up! They'll hear," a second man whispered while taking pictures of Veronica's hand on her pussy.

"Enjoy the show while it lasts," a third man whispered. "When they scream, we bolt."

"If they scream," a fourth man said. "I'm sure they want us to look."

Camilla--still apparently not seeing the nearby men--crawled over to get her face between Veronica's legs. On all fours, with her legs spread out and her butt pushed up, Camilla's asshole and pussy were showing; she just insouciantly licked Veronica's clitoris as the men took more pictures.

"Are these girls high?" the first man asked, crouching beside the girls to get a closeup shot of Camilla's tongue on Veronica's labia.

"Good question," the second man whispered. "Why haven't they noticed us?"

"I told you," the fourth man whispered. "They want us to watch." He got some closeup shots of Camilla's asshole.

"Oh, yeah?" the third man whispered. "Then why haven't they simply said 'hi' to us?"

Veronica squealed as she came, and Camilla licked away the sweet ooze. Then Camilla got on her back, with her legs spread out wide, and Veronica, on her knees, got a dildo from out of her purse and gently pushed the tip against Camilla's wet vaginal orifice. Camilla softly sighed as Veronica pushed the dildo in a few inches. The men, getting bolder and bolder, crouched beside the girls to get closeup shots of Camilla's penetrated pussy.

With her eyes closed and her mouth wide open, Camilla was still able to convince the men she didn't know they were there. Veronica kept up the same illusion by staring only at her dildo going in and out of Camilla's soaking cunt.

"I'm...gonna come," Camilla moaned. "Oh!"

"Alright," one of the men whispered.

Veronica brought her mouth down to Camilla's hole. She slowly pulled the dildo out, deliberately tickling it against Camilla's G-spot. Camilla's come sprayed out all over Veronica's wide-open mouth: she ate it all up, and licked the remainder off her lips.

Then Camilla and Veronica switched positions. Veronica lay on her back, and Camilla, on all fours, got on top of her, with her legs spread out and her ass pushed up, exposing her pink asshole and pussy for the cameras. Veronica sucked on Camilla's left tit, and the girls still acted as though they were the only people on their boat while the men continued taking pictures of them.

The fourth man, always ogling Camilla's ass, couldn't take it any more. He slowly bent down, bringing his face to her ass.

"Wait! Don't!" the first man whispered.

"Don't worry," the fourth man said softly. "They want us to." His face was a mere centimetre from Camilla's asshole now.

Knowing his face was in her ass, Camilla psychically changed the smell of her flatulence to raspberry. She audibly farted in his face: the other men snickered as quietly as they could, but the fourth man got a major boner from the soft breeze of Camilla's fruity fart; he greedily sniffed in the sweet smell, then kissed her asshole hard and passionately, as if it were her cherry lips.

Pretending to have a low IQ, Camilla--still in her breathy 'Marilyn' persona--reacted slowly to the sensation of his wet lips and tongue on her asshole. She casually looked back at him and said, "Oh, hi."

"Hi," her ass-licker, a young man, said.

"I poop out of that hole," she said, still with her ass in his face.

"Yes, you do," he said. "But it's beautiful."

"Thank you," she said. "What's your name?" She turned around.

"I'm Paul," he said, putting out his hand for her to shake.

"I'm Camilla," she said, shaking his hand and standing up.

"Extremely pleased to meet you," he said, looking up and down at her body.

Veronica stood up, too, and put out her hand for the first man to shake. "I'm Veronica," she said.

"Hi," the man said, shaking her hand. "I'm Peter, and you're extremely beautiful."

"Thank you," she said. "You're kinda cute. Wanna fuck me?"

"More than anything else in the world," he said. She took Peter downstairs to a room with a bed.

The other three men stayed with Camilla on the deck of the boat.

"My name's Richard," the second man said while fondling Camilla's breasts from behind her.

"Hi Richard," she said, looking back at him and not bothering to shake his hand, out of consideration that his hands were full.

"I'm Gene," the third man said while putting his left hand between Camilla's legs. He put out his right hand to shake hers.

Shaking it, she sighed, "Hi Gene. Ooh." Her pussy was getting wet from his gentle touch.

"You like that?" Gene asked, sliding his finger up her cunt.

"Oh, yeah," she said, with her eyes closed. "Ah!"

All this time, Paul was handling her buttocks, opening them wide and fingering her asshole. He slid his index finger a few inches inside, pushing it in and pulling it out.

"You have a really beautiful body," Richard said.

"Thank you," Camilla said. "Oh!" She came in Gene's cupped hand. He brought his hand up to his face and drank her come, then licked the remainder off his hand.

"OK," Paul said. "You're satisfied, but what about us? Our pricks are still parallel with the floor."

"Gene, get on the floor," Camilla said. "I'll get on top of you." Gene lay on his back on the floor and pulled down his bathing suit. She got on top of him, and aimed his hard-on at her cunt.

"What about us?" Richard said.

"I still have two more holes," she said. "FIll them up. Ah!" She felt Gene's cock sliding in half-way.

"Alright!" Paul said. He pulled down his shorts and got behind her. She used Nigrovum to cause her anus and rectum to be fully lubricated. He pushed the tip of his cock against her anal orifice. "This is gonna feel so good!"

Richard stood in front of her and pulled his pants and underwear down. She looked up at him and began kissing and licking his cock. Paul's cock pushed in a third of the way, and Camilla took Richard's cock three-quarters of the way inside her salivating mouth.

When both Gene's and Paul's cocks got in their respective holes all the way, she had her first orgasm, soaking Gene's lap. She deep-throated Richard's cock, and gently shook his balls in her hand. As Paul pumped his cock in and out of her ass, he reached forward and fondled her tits.

"Ah!" she moaned with a muffled scream when she came a second time. She had Richard's cock half-way inside her mouth now; her tongue vibrated quickly against his corpus spongiosum.

"What about..when we come?" Paul asked in moans. "Unh!"

She pulled Richard's cock out of her mouth with a popping sound. "Come on...my ass," she said, jerking Richard off, and keeping his cock pointed at her face. "Gene, come on...my tits. Ah!" She came a third time.

Paul, about to come, pulled his cock out of her ass. Richard blew his load all over her face, while Paul sprayed his jizz all over Camilla's buttocks. As the two men put their spent cocks away, Gene, about to come, pulled out of her pussy.

She squatted before him, come dripping off her nose, cheeks, chin, and ass. Gene stood up and aimed his cock at her tits. She jerked him off, and he sprayed first on her left nipple, then her right, then between her tits, then finally on her left breast, below the nipple. He pulled up his bathing suit. Practically drowning in come, she looked up at the three standing men and giggled.




Camilla Ch. 089



When Peter had finished fucking Veronica, the four men got back on their boat, agreeing to sail back to shore and meet with the girls there.

As they sailed their boats back to the dock, Camilla cleaned the come off herself in the shower below, and Veronica got dressed. When they reached the shore and were ready to get off their boats, Camilla stayed naked.

The men waited by the girls' boat, watching the girls get off. Veronica joined Peter, while the other three men ogled Camilla's nudity.

"Don't you want to get dressed?" Richard asked.

"You say I have a beautiful body," she said, still in her breathy 'Marilyn' persona. "I should stay nude."

"OK," Paul said. "Let's all surround her in a circle as we walk back to your hotel; that way, we won't get in trouble."

"I don't mind if people see me," Camilla said, getting off the boat and carrying her bikini and purse.

So the men escorted Veronica and still-naked Camilla along the streets of Pattaya, surrounding Camilla and fondling her. Richard was fingering her already-wet pussy, Gene, behind her, had his hands on her tits, and Paul had her buttocks in his hands, always fingering her asshole. Peter and Veronica completed the circle that was meant to hide Camilla's nudity from the public, though many people on the streets could still see her naked anyway.

By the time they all got to the girls' hotel room, Camilla--finding Paul more attractive than the others, used Nigrovum on the other two men.

"Thanks, Gene and Richard," she said, looking up in the two men's eyes as Veronica unlocked the door to the girls' room. "You can go now."

"We can go now," Gene and Richard said together, mechanically and obediently.

"Bye," Camilla said.

"Bye," the two men said, then walked away. The others went into the room.

"How'd you do that?" Paul asked in amazement.

"I'll tell you in the bathroom," Camilla said. "I have to use the can."

Peter and Veronica sat together on her bed while Paul and Camilla were in the washroom.

Camilla sat on the toilet, and Paul stood before her, looking down. "Really," he said. "Tell me how you got rid of those guys."

"I'm a goddess," she said, looking up at him as she began peeing. Her legs were spread out so he could see the golden line pour out.

He sniffed her urine, which she'd psychically made smell like apple juice. Then she farted, and dropped a few turds in the toilet water; she used Nigrovum to make them smell like chocolate.

"That's amazing!" he said as he sniffed. "How can you smell like that?"

"I told you," she said, dropping a few more turds and farting. "I'm a goddess."

"You sure seem to be, with fruity piss and chocolaty shit."

She pulled some toilet paper off the roll and wiped her ass, with never a look of embarrassment on her face as she looked up at him. "My body is divine: worship me."

"How, Goddess?"

She stood up and lifted up the seat. He looked down at her turds and piss in the bowl.

"Eat it. It's delicious," she said.

"I'll bet it is." He got down on his knees before the bowl, and stuck his face down inside. Encouraged by the sweet smell, he started eating and drinking: indeed, it all tasted like chocolate and apple juice. He eagerly ate it all.

When he was finished, he got up.

"Good boy," she said.

"I can't believe I just did that," he said, belching.

********************

While Veronica continued fucking Peter, Camilla quickly got bored with Paul, and psychically made him go away as she had Richard and Gene.

Wearing a sleeveless Navy blue top and tight yellow pants, blonde Camilla walked along the streets of Pattaya the next day. Annoyed that all the men she found attractive seemed to want only Thai whores, she went into a dark alley and closed her eyes.

I'm a beautiful Thai whore, she thought, concentrating; I'm a beautiful Thai whore.

She felt the psychic energy vibrating throughout her body, seemingly toasting her skin. Her eyes and face were gently stretching to assume their new shape. When she was finished, she came out of the alley and walked by a small eatery where there was a mirror. She looked at herself.

Now her sexy curves and big tits had black hair, black Asian eyes, an Asian skull, and delicious brown skin. She just grinned, narcissistically admiring her new Oriental beauty.

She sat at a chair in the eatery, psychically scanning for desirable men; she soon found a tall, handsome 42-year-old blond man. She could sense his intelligence and big cock.

Quickly learning how to imitate a Thai accent, she said, "Hello, strong, handsome man," as he approached.

"I'm Rob," he said with a smile. "I'm from Ontario, Canada."

"Really?" she said with a grin, pleasantly surprised to meet a man from home.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Nineteen."

"That's all?"

"Yeah," she said, getting up and sitting on his lap.

"You're just a baby," he said, holding her and rocking her in his arms.

"You want me?"

"Yes, let's go out on a date first, though. I like that. It's more romantic."

"OK," she said, smiling.

"Can I see your body first, though?" he whispered. "I'll pay you well."

So much for romantic, she thought. "Sure. Come with me." She led him to the washroom in the back of the eatery. They went in and she locked the door. She psychically kept everyone in the eatery from disturbing them by putting up an invisible force field in front of the door. Anyone who had to take a crap would have to go elsewhere.

He sat on the toilet, and she stood before him. First she unzipped and pulled down her tight yellow pants, revealing a black thong that hugged her crotch in a delicious camel-toe. After removing her pants and high heels, she pulled off her top, revealing her bra-less breasts, which wiggled before his practically drooling face. He pulled her thong down, revealing her wispy landing-strip pubic hair.

"You like my body?" she asked.

"You're really beautiful," he said. "Please turn around for me, sweetie. Let me see the rest of you."

"OK," she said, and turned around, displaying her callipygian behind. Then she spread her legs out as wide as she could get them, and bent over, showing off her now black asshole and pussy. She looked back at him upside-down from between her legs. "You like?"

"Beautiful," he said. He didn't like her natural smells, though--gone were the chocolaty, fruity smells that Paul had enjoyed. "May I clean you?"

"OK," she said.

There was a shower stall in the washroom, beside the toilet. He washed her pussy and asshole, inside and out, sliding his fingers deep inside. He couldn't believe how permissive she was being, but he just went along with it, delighted to see how far he could go. He dried her, and she sat on his lap, lap-dancing him as he fondled her breasts, buttocks, pussy, and asshole.

"You are exquisitely beautiful," he said, sliding his finger inside her asshole. "I wanna wine and dine you, romantically. Let's get together tonight, OK? Wear these clothes; you look sexy in them. After we have dinner in a nice restaurant, we'll make love in my hotel."

"Great," she said.

He paid her a generous amount of Thai Baht, and walked out of the washroom. She put her clothes back on, and left soon after.

*******************

That night, he took her to a restaurant owned by a German expatriate. They ate schnitzel and drank red wine. After dinner, he gave her a piggy-back ride to his hotel room. During the date, he frequently groped at her crotch and unzipped her pants in public. Though she didn't mind, she could only think, so much for 'romantic'.

In his hotel room, he sat on his bed and watched her take off her yellow pants, sleeveless top, black thong, and heels.

"I got to go pee-pee," she said in her faux Thai accent.

"May I watch?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, walking into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, but he hadn't followed her in yet. She could psychically sense him hiding her clothes in the other room. Creep, she thought. "I thought you want watch me pee-pee."

"Coming," he said, rushing into the bathroom. He stood before her, looking down and watching her pee pour out into the toilet bowl. She looked up at him with the innocent eyes of a child. When he heard her squirting out her last few drops of piss, he squatted down and reached for the toilet paper. "May I wipe you?"

"OK," she said. He wiped her pussy dry of piss, then she got up and flushed the toilet. He went over to the shower and turned on the water; she got into the shower stall. He lathered up the soap and cleaned her pussy and asshole as thoroughly as he had that afternoon in the washroom of the eatery. He rinsed her, she got out of the shower stall, and he towelled her dry.

Then he carried her out of the bathroom and lay her on the bed on her back. He started kissing her from her cheeks and neck down to her breasts, sucking each of them for a few seconds; then he kissed his way down to her belly, and finally down to her pussy. He pulled her legs up and spread them out, and began licking her pussy and asshole frantically. She sighed and sighed, higher and higher, and louder and louder. Finally, she screamed in whistle register and came on his face.

"Wow!" he said, licking come off his lips. "I wasn't expecting that." Then he pulled down his pants and underwear, and lay on the bed on his back. She got on top of him in the cowgirl position, and slowly fed his long, hard cock inside her wet pussy.

After feeling his thick cock tickle her vaginal walls for a minute or so, she came again. As he kept thrusting and she kept bouncing, she'd come another two times. Finally, when he was about to come, she got off of him and brought her face down to his cock. She licked the underside a few times, and he blew his load on her nose, in her right eye, on her right cheek, and on her chin.

"Beautiful," he said, looking down at her face, with his come dripping off it.

*******************

The next day, she pretended not to care about her clothes, so when they were about to leave his room, he gave her his raincoat. She put it on, put on her high heels, got her purse, and they left. He took her to a restaurant and bought her breakfast, always imagining that his paying her way everywhere was him being 'romantic'. Then he took her to a clothing store. She found a shiny, silver and gold dress that she loved. It was tight-fitting, showing off her cleavage as well as lots of leg. He bought it for her, paid her for the sex, and they said good-bye.

Liking being a sexy Thai whore, Camilla walked down the streets of Pattaya with the hip-swinging of a happy-go-lucky prostitute. She saw Veronica walking along.

"Hi Veronica," she said.

"Sorry. Do I know you?" Veronica asked, not recognizing her.

"Of course you do," Camilla said. "It's me--Camilla."

"What the fuck?" Veronica said, carefully looking at the Thai girl standing before her, and only now beginning to notice a vague resemblance to Camilla. "Camilla? Is that you?"

"Yeah! Do I look good as aThai?"

"Hotter than hell! Your powers are limitless! Peter's gone. Hey, can you make me look like that?"

"Sure."

Camilla put her hands on Veronica's shoulders and closed her eyes. Both girls visualized Veronica as a sexy Thai whore, and in ten seconds, she was a coffee-skinned, Asian version of herself, with her hair changed from red to black. The two girls walked, swaggeringly, arms around each other, like the happiest whores in the world. They came by a relatively lonely section of the beach.

A short, but cute European man came by. Camilla reached out and grabbed him by his shirt, at the chest. Intimidated, but turned on, he looked up and down at Camilla.

"What you want us to do?" she asked him.

Not missing a beat, he said, "Get naked: right here, right now."

"OK," she said nonchalantly, and unzipped her dress at the back. She pulled off her dress, letting it fall onto the ground. Veronica picked it up, looking around and hoping no cops would see them. Camilla kicked off her high heels and turned around for the man. "You like my body?"

"You are hot," he panted. "Let me touch you."

She got up close to him, and his hands roamed up and down her smooth, brown skin: first along her hips and thighs, then he fondled her breasts and put his hand between her legs, feeling her wet pussy. He squalled down, and she turned around, putting her ass in his face. He opened her buttocks out wide to see her asshole. He fingered it, and had a sniff.

She got down on the ground on all fours, spreading her legs out so he could see her asshole and pussy. He fingered her pussy while licking her asshole. Veronica noticed some people gather round, getting out their cell-phones and switching them to camera mode. Veronica figured there was no harm in these people getting video of Camilla, knowing she didn't mind: as long as no cops saw what they were doing. The crowd of people were obscuring the public sex from those farther away, anyway.

Camilla came in the man's cupped hands, and he drank it all up. Then he sat on a nearby bench, and she sat on his lap. She gave him an aggressive lap dance while he felt her breasts. Finally, she got off him, knelt between his legs, and unzipped his pants. She took his cock out and started licking and kissing the tip. She looked up in his eyes lewdly as she took his cock three-quarters of the way inside her mouth. He looked down at his cock-sucker and moaned his thanks.

Everyone surrounding them just stared in awed disbelief.

"This is definitely going online," one young man said as he recorded video of the blow-job on his cell-phone.

Finally, the European came in her mouth, and she got every drop in her mouth. She turned around to let everyone see his come in her wide-open mouth. She allowed the people to film her slowly swallow the remainder of the man's jizz. When she'd finished swallowing, she took a bow, while everyone enthusiastically clapped.

Not wanting to be bothered by the onlookers anymore, she psychically made them all want to leave. The man was amazed to see them all suddenly go, but Veronica wasn't.

"Why'd they all leave?" he asked.

"Because I made them all go," Camilla said.

"I don't understand," he said.

"You don't have to," she said. "Now pay me."

He paid her, she got dressed, and they all left.

*******************

That night, 'Thai' Camilla, wearing only a skimpy gold bikini and high heels, went to a whore house: the sign outside said, 'Girls, Girls, Girls.' Across the street was another whorehouse with a sign that said, 'Boys, Boys, Boys.' I'd love to watch the gay sex in there, she thought as she went into the first go-go bar.

Using Nigrovum to make sure no one took notice of her as a non-employee, Camilla got up onstage and scanned the bar for attractive men. She found a grey-haired, fifty-something man, and promptly undid her G-string and bra, revealing her breasts with a gleeful wiggle. Now she stood nude, except for her high heels, with a lascivious grin on her face. The man instantly flagged her down.

They went into a room at the back, her staying naked the whole time. Their room was being cleaned by a forty-something Thai woman. The man, as exhibitionistic as Camilla, pulled down his pants and underwear in front of the cleaning woman. His erection bounced and wiggled as soon as it was exposed. She giggled in a mixture of embarrassment and excitement at the sight of the now naked man.

"Want to make more money?" he asked the woman.

"OK," she giggled, still blushing, but willing to do anything for some extra Baht.

"Clean my body, then hers," he said.

There was a shower area in the corner of the room, opposite to the bed. The cleaning woman lathered up her hands while Camilla sprayed water from the shower nozzle on his body. The cleaning woman washed him everywhere below the neck, being particularly thorough about washing his cock, balls, buttocks, and asshole, mining her soaped-up finger deep inside his rectum. As she cleaned his legs, he slapped his big, three-quarters erect cock against her cheeks. She giggled at his immodesty, then took his cock in her mouth, blowing him briefly.

"Do you want...me to fuck you?" he asked in sighs as her mouth went back and forth along his cock.

She pulled his cock out of her mouth. "OK," she said.

"I don't want to pay you, but if you're horny, I don't mind satisfying you," he said.

Frowning slightly, but still wanting a fuck, she got up and pulled her pants and underwear down. The man slid his cock inside the woman's wet pussy; not wanting to be left out, Camilla came beside the woman, and she felt Camilla's tits and ass up as the man's huge cock stimulated her every vaginal wall. After a few minutes of fucking, the woman came, screaming with delight. Her husband's needle dick was nothing compared to this man's.

She pulled up her pants and underwear, then began cleaning Camilla's body while the man watched and played with himself. The woman was just as thorough in washing Camilla's body as she had been with the man, cleaning all of Camilla from the neck down. The woman's lesbian cravings for Camilla were obvious when she moaned, cleaning Camilla's tits, buttocks, and her pussy and asshole, both inside and out. When Camilla felt the woman's sensitive fingers ticking her G-spot and poking at her A-spot, she soon came.

The man paid the cleaning woman, and she left. He got on the bed on his back, and Camilla got on top of him in the cowgirl position. She fed his cock inside her pussy, and as she bounced up and down on his cock, he had his hands on her ass, fingering her asshole. After she came, he asked, "I want to lick you."

"OK," she said, and she got off of him, then got on top of him in the 69 position. He licked her pussy and asshole while she sucked his cock. Noticing that neither the cleaning woman's pussy, nor Camilla's pussy or mouth, had made the man come, she asked, "You want fuck my ass?" in deliberately ungrammatical English.

"Yes," he grunted. She let him get behind her, and used Nigrovum to cause her asshole and rectum to be thoroughly lubricated. He slowly slid his cock inside her ass, grunting and groaning the whole time. The Nigrovum in her had detected HIV in the man's blood; she used her power to cause the virus to disintegrate in a matter of seconds. Within a minute, she could psychically sense he was about to come, so correct was her intuition that an ass-fuck would get him off.

"Pull it out, and come...on my ass," she sighed.

He took his cock out, and she reached back and briefly jerked him off; he came all over her butt-crack, her left buttock, and her right gluteal sulcus.




Camilla Ch. 089



Veronica was with another man in their hotel, and Camilla had promised to let her have the hotel for the night, so confident was Camilla of getting a lover for the night. Liking this man, she asked, "You want me go to your hotel?"

"Yes," he said. "But stay naked."

He took a raincoat out of his backpack and gave it to her. She put it on, and they went to his hotel.

When they got to the door of his room, he got out his key. "OK," he said. "Take off the raincoat."

She took it off, standing naked in the hallway, completely content to let the other people in the hall see her. He unlocked the door, and they went into his room.

She got on his bed, waiting for him to take all his clothes off.

"OK," he asked. "What haven't we done yet?"

"You no fuck my tits," she said.

"OK," he said. "Let's do that."

He put his cock between her breasts, and she squeezed them around his erection. Looking up at him, she slid her soft, smooth breasts against the length of his rock-hard cock. He stroked her hair and looked down at her glorious nudity as he tit-fucked her.

"You like?" she asked, looking up at him and grinning.

"Oh, yeah," he panted. "I'm gonna come."

He sprayed his load up her right nostril, on her lips, in her left eye, and on her left cheek. She looked up at him and giggled as he watched his come drip down off her face. After that, she washed her face, and they went to sleep.

The next morning, he saw her walking around his room, twirling and showing off her naked body. At one point, she went out on the balcony and let anyone out there watching see her. As he watched, he jerked off and came in some Kleenex.

When they were ready to go out, he got the raincoat ready. "Go out into the hall," he said. "I'll give you the raincoat to wear when you're out there."

"OK," she said, and went out into the hall nude. Again, some people in the hall ogled her in fascination. He came out, gave her the raincoat, and locked the door. She put the raincoat on, and they left.

After buying her breakfast in a nearby restaurant, he took her to a shoe store. He bought her some silver-coloured high heels, then they went to a clothing store, where he bought her a matching, glittering mini-dress.

After walking along the streets of Pattaya and showing off the woman he was owning for the while, he took her to the beach. She took off her high heels, and they walked along the sand, noting lots of families there swimming and getting tans.

When they approached the water, he said, "OK, take off your dress and go into the water, but only waist-deep."

"OK," she said. She unzipped her dress at the back, pulled it off her, and gave it to him. Then she casually went into the water. The mouths of many people dropped when they saw the naked Thai girl wading in the water. Waist-deep in the water, she had a carefree expression on her face as the waves went up and down, sometimes covering her pubic hair and buttocks, sometimes exposing them. Her breasts were always exposed, and she faced all the people on the beach, giving them all a generous look.

Again, the cell-phones came out, and people took pictures and video of her.

Camilla could psychically sense some offended mothers going off to inform the police. "We should go," she said to the man. "We get in trouble."

"RIght," he said. She got out of the water, and he gave her her dress. She put it on, and they quickly left the beach.

As they continued walking along the streets, she said, "I gotta pee."

"OK," he said. "Let's find an alley where you can go. I'd like it if somebody saw you there."

"OK, if you want," she said. They went into an alley.

She took off her dress and high heels, then squatted down for her pee. He looked down at her as the golden water poured out from between her legs and onto the ground. Again, somebody saw her, got out his camera, and set it to video mode. He recorded her whole piss.

"Thailand is a wild place," he said as he got the video of her.

*********************

On their last day in Thailand, Camilla and Veronica changed back to their white girl look (Camilla having her black-haired, 'Goth' look). Then they flew back to Pearson Airport in Toronto, Canada.

Anxious to see her baby, Camilla used Nigrovum to eliminate the feeling of jet lag; and as soon as she'd got home and put her bags back in her apartment, she rushed out to find Clara.

As Camilla rode in a taxi, she used Nigrovum to sense where Clara was at the time; she was in her apartment. Camilla got there within twenty minutes.

Clara heard her doorbell ring, and she got up to answer the door. The baby had been crying hysterically the whole time. Clara let Camilla in.

"Oh, Camilla, thank God you're back!" Clara said.

"Is Eros OK?" Camilla asked, sensing the boy's emotional pain.

"Physically, he's perfectly OK," Clara said. "But all he ever did was cry and cry."

"Really?" Camilla asked.

"Yeah. It started shortly after you left him with me in the Eaton's Centre. I did everything I could to take care of him, but he just wouldn't stop crying. I'm sorry: I did the best I could."

"I know why he's crying," Camilla said, picking up her now suddenly completely pacified son. "He simply missed his mommy--didn't you, sweetie?"

Eros just looked in her eyes and smiled a smile of perfect peace.

*********************

In the public aquarium in Montreal, 37-year-old Camilla had been going through all those memories continuously, without a break, for so desperate was she to forget the horrors she was being exposed to. Only her past could give her happiness now, for her present--and presumably, her future--could only be hell. Even the voices of the spirits of her father and Don, and of Dr. Singh, would have given her little comfort in her predicament.

Her photographic memory had provided every detail, to ensure that she could keep those out-of-body visions going on as long as possible; but even they, in all their length, had to end. Coming back into the terrible present, Camilla looked around her. It was nighttime. The news cameras were still rolling, and the water tank was much more soiled now.

She was being gang-banged by the spirits of Gene, who was fucking her tits; Paul, who was fucking her ass, Richard, who was fucking her pussy, and Rob, who was fucking her mouth. All the people watching were gazing up in amazement at this naked woman whose tits were being squeezed by invisible hands, and whose gaping holes were being fucked by something...inhuman.

Your apple-piss and chocolate-shit are poison, said the voice of Paul's ghost; They killed me, you fucking whore.

Your come's poison, too, said Gene's ghost's voice. You knew the danger, and you didn't stop yourself. Goddess, my ass.

Contemplating her ongoing humiliation, Camilla knew she would have to continue having those out-of-body visions, visions of a happier past, to forget this present horror. How could her father save her from this?



Camilla Ch. 090



It was the second day of naked 37-year-old Camilla's ghost gang-bang ordeal at the public aquarium in Montreal. Nothing had changed: she was still hovering a few inches above the surface of the soiled water in a huge tank, always coming and pissing in it. A couple dozen dead fish were floating around her, though none of them blocked the view of all her voyeurs, for the masked men psychically moved them out of the way.

Indeed, none of her mesmerized watchers had left. They'd camped there, in the viewing room, taking minimal sleeping breaks. The news cameras were ever filming, for the live coverage of this extraordinary developing story was non-stop.

The spirits that were gang-raping her were those of Allen, the young man who'd received lap dances from her while she was pregnant; two other spirits, fucking her pussy and ass, were those of two men--one young, one older--whom she'd given lap dances to just after she'd had her baby. The young man had met her before her trip to Thailand, and the older man had met her shortly after she came back. Allen's invisible cock was in her mouth.

You never had any control over me, Camilla, the spirit of the older man mentally told her as he continued thrusting his invisible cock inside her gaping asshole. You were always in my power.

You controlled me, though, the young man psychically told her. I'll never forgive you for how you made me degrade myself.

Same here, added Allen. Now it's our turn to degrade you, you fucking bitch.

How could you let these fish die? Camilla mentally asked the older man. I thought your party cared for the environment.

We don't give a shit about the environment any more than your average factory owner, he psychically replied. We just talked the green talk to get in power, and to build as big and statist a government as we could.

Though Camilla was always climaxing during these spiritual gang bangs, her sexual pleasure was only compulsive--always without joy, for the spirits were forcing her to come. Lecherous men and women were still getting video of her on their cell-phone cameras from down below in the viewing room, and from up above on the high ledge, where there was a close-up view of her spread-out legs, and where her gaping pussy and asshole were being stuffed with invisible cock.

"This is so fuckin' hot," one man up above said as he got video of her wide-open holes.

"Buying all these cell-phones was a good investment," another man--squatting beside the first man on the ledge--said as he got video of her. "When one phone runs out of memory, I can quickly switch to my next phone, missing only tiny bits of this."

Now do you see, Camilla? Agape's spirit said to her, in a voice only she could hear. You're not a goddess.

I know, Daddy, she mentally said to him, her cheek still puffing out with Allen's invisible cock inside it.

You must let us help you, Don's spirit said.

Psychically let go of your life, Dr. Singh telepathically said to her, all the way from Vancouver.

I can't, she answered, tears dripping from her eyes. I'm too scared. And the sex is too addictive for me to resist. She started to slip away, into more of her out-of-body visions of old memories, to escape the horror of the present.

Don't lose contact with us! Agape told her, feeling her psychic connection with him, Don, and Dr. Singh fade away. We can save you!

Sorry, Daddy, she told him before feeling her helpers' consciousness completely dissolve from her attention.

******************

Back in Club Ritz in Toronto in late July, 19-year-old 'Goth' Camilla was giving a lap dance to an 18-year-old boy in one of the private rooms. She'd used Nigrovum to speed up her recovery after giving birth to her son, Eros; she wasn't urinating excessively, she'd psychically soothed her vagina so she'd feel no pain during sex; her figure was as good as ever; and her Nigrovum-inspired sex addiction ensured she'd feel no lowering of her sex drive.

Though she didn't even have stretch marks, when the boy touched her belly, he noticed a looseness in her abdominal skin.

"Did you just have a baby?" he asked her in a panting voice.

"Yep," she said with a grin, grinding hard on his large erection.

"And you haven't lost your looks at all," he sighed. "Amazing."

"That's right, Joey," she sighed, enjoying the feeling of the tip of his cock rubbing against her wet vulva. "I'm a yummy mummy."

"You sure are beautiful. I think pregnant women are hot. I wish I'd seen you then." He put his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them.

"I have a porn website, www.camillacome.com. There's POV video of me pregnant there, if you're interested."

"I'd love to see that." He put his hand on her pussy and started fingering her hard clitoris.

She looked back in his baby blue eyes. "You're such a cutie," she sighed. "Oh!"

"You're flawless," he said, sliding his finger in her wet cunt.

She pecked him on the lips. "Thanks, sweetie." She got up, turned around, and sat on his lap again, this time facing him.

"How can you be so perfect?" He put his hands on her ass and gently squeezed her buttocks.

"You really wanna know how?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he said, opening her buttocks and making his fingers crawl inside her crack.

"I'm a goddess, that's how." She brought her face over to his ear and let her tongue snake its way inside.

"You sure are." His index finger started rubbing circles against her asshole.

"Really, Joey, I literally am. I'll prove it." She closed her eyes and visualized a bright room, and all her original body colours coming back. Within seconds, the room brightened up.

"Hey, who turned on the lights?" he asked in surprise.

"I did," she said, bringing her face back in front of his, so he could see her original blonde hair, blue eyes, and peach skin, all suddenly changed from their previous black and pale 'Goth' colours. "Ta da!" she sang.

"What the hell?" Joey said, his jaw drooping almost to the floor. "I thought you had black hair."

"Nope," she said proudly. "I'm really blonde, but I can use my power to look any way I want. The real reason my figure wasn't ruined by my pregnancy is that I used my power to restore my original looks. My powers are what helped my quickly recover after I had my baby. I'm a goddess, really."

"Wow," he said in panting awe, his heart pounding. "Let me worship you."

"That's exactly what I want you to do. There's another cute boy, Allen--your age--who wants to worship me. In time, I'll show you both how to do so; when you do begin to worship me, you'll receive my blessings. For now, though, keep coming here for lap dances." She kissed him on the mouth again, and fondled the hard cock in his pants. He was about to come.

"Gladly, Goddess." His mesmerized eyes never left hers. "Oh!" he creamed his jeans.

"Oh, dear," she said, looking down at the puddle in his pants. "Come over to the shower area; I'll clean you up."

"OK," he said. They got up and went over to the shower.

"Pull your pants down. Don't be shy." He pulled his pants and underwear down, revealing his spent penis. "Aw, what a cute fellow he is!" She giggled as she lathered up some soap. He took off his pants, underwear, shoes, and socks. Then she sprayed water all over his crotch and soaped up his penis and scrotum. She was very thorough in her touching; he wished he could get another erection fast, but soon she rinsed off the soap.

She got a towel and dried him off. He paid her for the lap dances and got dressed.

"Bye," he said. "Thanks for everything, Goddess."

"Go in peace," she said as he left the room.

******************

When she'd returned from Thailand and got her baby from Clara, she immediately took him home. In her apartment, she cradled the beautiful child in her arms. Eros looked up into the eyes of his mother, with the same hypnotized love that so many of Camilla's lovers had given her.

Though she felt she was through with incest for good, and had absolutely no intention of ever making her son her lover--even when he was to reach the age of consent--she couldn't help being flattered to see the Oedipal longing in his eyes, thinking that a boy's crush on his beautiful mamma was the sweetest thing ever.

There's no love as unconditional as that between a mother and her son, she thought as she smiled down on him like an angel. It's been said that I can't love. Whoever thanks that, living or dead, should see me with my boy now. We totally love each other.

******************

On her next day to work at Club Ritz, after her return from Thailand, she gave Allen and Joey lap dances, at separate times during the evening; and just before each boy left, she gave him his instructions for worshipping her. Both boys were made to say the same things during their separate moments with Camilla. She looked in each boy's eyes intensely, and said the following.

"You must become my priest," she said.

"I must become your priest," each boy said during his time with her.

"You will dress as a beautiful woman," she said.

"I will dress as a beautiful woman."

"You will shave your face, armpits, and legs every day."

"I will shave my face, armpits, and legs every day."

"You will serve me, and obey my every command."

"I will serve you, and obey your every command."

She then touched each boy's Adam's apple, and visualized it being so small as to be unnoticeable. The Adam's apples shrank within seconds.

"Now go in peace," she said to each boy during his time with her.

Several hours later, 'Goth' Camilla had been stripping onstage when a handsome man in his forties came to sit at the tip rail. She was coming to the end of her second song, Aerosmith's 'Dude Looks Like a Lady'; she was naked except for the white cowboy boots she had on. She squatted before him and spread her legs. He smiled at the sight of her purple pussy.

The song ended, and she took off her boots. Her last song was 'It's No Good,' by Depeche Mode. Crawling around the stage on all fours, she turned her back to him and showed off her pussy and asshole to his eager eyes and panting mouth.

When that song finished and she got off the stage with her purse, leaving her clothes there, he asked her for table dances. The naked girl went with him to a table, and they sat together, facing each other. He was on a chair, and she was on a sofa.

"My name's Garth Van Duyne," he said, holding out his hand.

"I'm Camilla," she said, shaking his hand. "What do you do, Mr. Van Duyne?"

"Actually, I'm running for mayor," he said. "Do you recognize my face on TV?"

"I'm afraid not, sorry; but I'll look for you," she said. "Maybe you shouldn't be here: it might be bad for your image."

"Oh, I'm well protected, don't you worry about that." His psychic blocking of her was so subtle, even she didn't know she was being blocked.

A new song started, and she got up. She licked her lips like a cat as she swayed her hips to the song, looking lasciviously in his eyes. She slowly turned around for him, allowing his eyes to roam all over her skin and study her breasts, pubic hair, and buttocks. After turning around for him completely, she was again facing him, and she put her knee on his chair, pushing it against his already hard cock; reaching forward, she brushed her right shoulder against his right cheek.

She brought her face up to his right ear and put her tongue inside it. After her tongue had slithered its way all around the ear-hole, pushing in as deep as she could get it, she pulled her tongue out, then pursed her lips and blew into the hole. She wrapped her lips around his earlobe, sucked on it, then nibbled on it just hard enough to make it sting slightly. He found the pain delightful.

"Wow," he said. "A mere table dance gives me all this, eh?"

"Yeah," she said with a 'shy' giggle. "But that's not all."

She turned around and sat on his lap, gently rubbing her soft, smooth buttocks against his monolith of a cock. He moaned softly at the sensation. Then she got up, turned around to face him, and sat back on the sofa. She spread her legs out wide with a carefree grin, gladly giving him a generous look at her pussy.

"Do you like my cunt?" she asked in her uninhibited 'Kitty' persona.

"It's cunnilicious," he sighed, moving forward to get a closer look. She giggled.

Then she turned around, and with her back to him, put her knees on the sofa, spread her legs out wide, and pushed her ass out so he could see her asshole and pussy. Not liking the black colour Nigrovum had turned her asshole into, she'd psychically changed it back to its original, pretty pink just before turning around.

Remembering the black asshole he saw on her onstage, he asked,"I thought your asshole was black."

Looking down at her bum, she said, "Oh, yeah. I changed it to pink."

Yep, he thought; this is the girl. She has the power.

"Do you like it better the other way?" she asked. "I can change it back, if you want."

"No, no," he said. "I like it better this way. Pink and pretty. Delicious."

She giggled. "Do you like anal sex?"

"Love it. Have you received anal before?"

"Oh, yeah. Lots of times. Here: take a good look at my asshole." She spread her buttocks wide for him, and he bent down to get a better look. "Don't I look used?"

"Not really; but you sure look enjoyable down there." She giggled again. The song ended. "May I have another table dance, please?"

"OK," she said with a giggle of feigned shyness, doing a combination of her shy 'Angel' persona, and her 'Kitty' one. Veronica was onstage, and her first song was an edited version of Gentle Giant's 'Pantagruel's Nativity."

"Now, there's a song you never expect to hear in a strip joint," he said.

"Oh, yeah. My daddy used to like old music like this." She got up and started turning around for him.

"The song's lyrics were inspired by Rabelais's Gargantua and Pantagruel books. I love those books. 'Do what you will' is the advice given: I totally agree with that--don't you?"

"Absolutely," she said, sitting on his lap again and rubbing away.

"My favourite character was Panurge. He was such a scoundrel; I've always wanted to emulate him."

Getting up and returning to the sofa, she asked, "Why?"

Mentally rendering her passively and uncritically accepting of all he said, he explained: "Panurge, in the fourth book, angrily threw a sheep out into the sea when its owner overcharged him. Then all the shepherd's other sheep threw themselves into the sea, too, blindly following the first. When I become more politically powerful, I hope to have that kind of power over the moutons de Panurge that are our citizens."

She had her back to him while on the sofa, showing off her asshole and pussy, all the while licking her lips and widening her eyes lasciviously. She'd lick her hand, then touch her wet pussy with it. Looking back at him, she mentally told him, All three of my holes are yours, Your Future Worship.

I know: I plan to fuck all three of them quite soon, he thought. She was still made unaware of his powers. The song ended, and he pulled out his wallet. "Well, I've got to go," he said. He paid her. "Bye."

Looking in his eyes in earnest, she said, "I really had fun being naked for you. Bye."

He grinned enigmatically and left.

*********************

The next day, 'Goth' Camilla felt this inexplicable urge to get on a bus in downtown Toronto. She was wearing a schoolgirl kind of outfit: a white blouse, a dark plaid skirt, knee-length socks, and black leather shoes. Garth was sitting at the back of the bus, waiting for her. As soon as she saw him, she hurried over to his seat.

"Hi!" she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "Why's a politician on the bus? Don't you have an expensive car?"

"I do, but I rarely use it," he lied. "I like going green, since that's the political party I represent. The Green Party."

"I'll vote for you for sure," she said.

I'll make sure of that, he thought.

"Do you remember me?"

"Of course. Camilla, the amazing dancer."

"Do you remember my cunt?"

"Yep. And your pretty pink asshole, too."

She giggled. "Thanks."

"Let me take you out to dinner," he said. Where do you wanna go?"

"Do you know Giovanni's?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. How about tonight at 8:00?"

"Sure."

**********************

At Giovanni's that night, Camilla and Garth chatted while they waited for their food. She was wearing the black dress Patrick had bought her, with no underwear underneath.

"I remember yesterday, when I was giving you your table dances, you said you'll be protected against the scandal of being seen in a strip joint," she said. "What did you mean by that?"

"Oh, let's just say I have a mask," he said with an eerie grin. "All good politicians do."

Remembering the mansion on Grouse Mountain, she began to get nervous; but he looked intensely in her eyes, and Nigrovum's psychic energy radiated from his eyes to hers, calming her instantly.

"You needn't worry about me," he said.

"I needn't worry about you," she said, in a monotone voice.

**********************

An hour later, he took her to his house, a big, beautiful one in a pricey neighbourhood. In his bedroom, as he undressed, he watched her unzip her black evening gown and drop it on the floor, revealing her naked body. She took off her high heels and got on his bed on all fours, with her legs spread out and her ass pushed up so he could see her asshole and pussy. When he was naked, he got on the bed behind her, ready for doggy-style.

He slowly slid his hard-on inside her wet pussy; she sighed as she felt it go in deeper and deeper, rubbing against her G-spot. When he got it all the way in, poking against her A-spot, she let out a loud squeal. He thrust inside her several times, the tip of his cock poking thrilling kisses against her A-spot. She came after less than a minute of that poking, soaking his bedsheets; he didn't mind.

Since he had her still in a state of passive acceptance of everything he said, he knew she wouldn't have the will to object to what he was saying.

"You will...vote for me," he said. "Unh!"

"I will...vote for you," she said. "Ah!"




Camilla Ch. 090



"In a few years, I'll become leader...of the Green Party," he continued. "You'll vote for me...when I want...to be...Prime Minister. Oh!"

"I'll vote for you...when you want...to be...Prime Minister. Ah!" She came a second time.

"I wanna fuck your ass now," he said. She psychically got her anus and rectum thoroughly lubricated for his cock. He pushed the tip of it against her anal orifice. "You'll help us gain power...by the ballot...and in the bedroom."

His cock went in a few inches. "I'll help you gain power...by the ballot...and in the bedroom. Oh!"

His cock pushed all the way in now, and he began aggressively thrusting. "You'll spread Nigrovum...to as many people...as possible."

"I'll spread Nigrovum...to as many people...as possible."

"Enslaved by desire, you'll do...whatever we want...you to do."

"Enslaved by desire, we'll do...whatever you want...us to do."

"Buy whatever...we want...you to buy."

"Buy whatever...you want...us to buy."

"Hate whomever...we want...you to hate."

"Hate whomever...you want...us to hate."

"Keep us...in power...for all time."

"Keep you...in power...for all time."

He pulled his cock out of her ass and stood up on the bed. "Turn around," he said. "Suck my dick, bitch."

"Yes, sir," she said, still in her mesmerized state. She turned around, kneeling before his cock. Looking up at him, she smiled servilely and started licking and kissing the knob. Then she fed his manhood into her mouth.

"Good girl," he moaned. "Oh!"

She deep-throated him, gently shaking his balls. He held her head tightly in his hands, in full control of it, outside and inside. He was about to come.

"Take it out," he said. "I wanna come...on your face."

She took it out of her mouth, then jerked him off. He showered her face with his come, splashing it on her nose, in her right eye, on her right cheek, on her lips, in her left eye, and on her chin. Temporarily blinded by his come, she looked up at him but couldn't see the sneer on his face.

He lay down on the bed and slowly regained his breath, delighting at the sight of his come dripping off her face. He soon went to sleep.

As soon as he was asleep, she came out of the trance he'd put her in. She went to his bathroom and washed the come off her face. Then she returned to the bedroom and looked at him.

I don't remember anything you said after mentioning your 'mask', she thought; but I'll bet I'm right you're one of those bastards Candice and I were almost killed by back in Vancouver. Now it's my turn, Satanist asshole. She focused on his heart, and visualized it no longer beating. Within ten seconds, his heartbeat indeed stopped. Satisfied that she'd rid the world of another corrupt politician, she got dressed and left.

After she'd walked out the door and hailed a taxicab, his heart started beating again. His eyes opened. "Nice try, Camilla," he said. "You'll be crucial in my rise to power."

***********************

That night at the aquarium in Montreal, 37-year-old Camilla had just returned from her out-of-body memory visions.

Now lesbian spirits were having her: Akemi was licking her pussy; Li-ping's pussy was in Camilla's face, and Camilla's tongue and lips were being forced by Li-ping's spirit to lick and suck on her clitoris; Clara sucked Camilla's left tit, while Ms. Callahan sucked on Camilla's right tit; Calina tongued and fingered Camilla's asshole; Desiree's hands stroked Camilla's back and tummy.

Though these spirits had a pleasant touch, Camilla could sense malicious energy emanating from each of her ghost lovers. She shivered with as much fear as she did with desire.

One voice of comfort, however, was heard in Camilla's mind.

Camil, we'll get you out of this. Don't worry, Candice's spirit psychically told her. Don, Ravinder, and your dad got me out of hell. They can get you out, too. Have faith in them.



Camilla Ch. 091



On the third day of Camilla's ongoing ordeal at the Montreal aquarium, the spirits of some of her former young adult male followers, and the spirit of a former prof, were gang-banging her. Her naked body, held up by the mental powers of the masked men, still hovered over the surface of the water of a tank; while none of her mesmerized voyeuristic watchers had left the scene.

To those who knew she was 37 years old, that she looked no older than 25 was almost as much of a shock as what they all saw happening to her. Now very few people, apart from the masked men, Dr. Singh, and his fellow researchers, knew about the seemingly limitless powers of Nigrovum. Such knowledge was deemed dangerous by Singh and his peers, out of a fear that many more people would suffer Camilla's fate; such knowledge was also deemed dangerous by the masked men, who jealously guarded their power, for the sake of the worldwide hegemony they were plotting.

The cameras of global news media were still filming Camilla, reporters never stopped talking about her, and lechers continued getting video of her on their cell-phone cameras. A dozen or so of such lechers, make and female, were crowding that upper ledge, pointing their cameras at her wide-open spread, and greedily getting video of her gaping pussy and asshole as she got stuffed with invisible cock.

Her breasts were being pushed together by invisible hands, and an invisible cock slid up and down between her breasts. Another invisible cock went in and out of her mouth, making her left cheek puff out and pull in, out and in, out and in. Her come and piss continued to pour out in an arc into the water that lay inches below her body.

Getting used to your 'natural smells', bitch? the spirit of the young man pumping her pussy psychically asked her.

We had to get used to it, added the spirit of the boy fucking her mouth. Now you can.

Enjoying your exhibitionism? the prof's spirit, fucking her ass, mentally asked her.

You like everyone looking at your body, added the spirit of her tit-fucker, a young classmate of hers from her third university year. Now you've got it.

Camilla, let go of your life, Agape's spirit urged her. The water tank is reaching capacity. It'll flood the whole viewing area before long.

We've tried psychically dissolving your come and piss, Candice's spirit added; but we can only disintegrate so much of it. The masked men are limiting our power to help you. Between the spirits of the dead ones and those still living, there are simply too many of those bastards for us to handle. Only you giving up your life will stop the overflowing of the tank.

Yes, only your cooperation will help us to succeed, Don's spirit psychically told her.

I'm too scared, Camilla mentally told her friends. The afterlife is too terrifying for me to face.

It may not be an actual afterlife, Dr. Singh began to explain in a psychic communication from Vancouver. One of my colleagues, who is researching Nigrovum with me, agrees that what's in our body fluids are millions of microscopic alien life forms; but his atheism makes him reject the idea that a soul survives us when we die. He believes it's the Nigrovum that's living on--not your father, Don, or Candice, or any of your deceased lovers; he believes the black, ovoid life forms have absorbed the identities and desires of your former lovers. Nigrovum is raping you, not them.

No, Ravinder, Camilla protested, it's really my old lovers' souls. They really exist.

We all really exist, Agape, Don, and Candice insisted.

Please don't doubt that that's my conviction, too, Dr. Singh told them. My colleague's atheist bias closes his mind to the spirit world; of course, he counters that my religious bias closes my mind to his views about Nigrovum. For what it's worth, anyway, his is an alternative explanation.

Mentally let go, Camil, Candice told her. We'll save you. Please have faith in us.

Camilla ignored Candice, and let her consciousness float away, to relive more old memories, and escape her present predicament. Her out-of-body visions brought her back seventeen years into the past, when she was twenty years old, and two weeks into her third university year at York in Toronto. Through Nigrovum's slowing of her ageing, though, she had the body of a girl who was only 19 years and four months old. She had been living in Agape's old house for some time now, having inherited it from him.

One morning, before leaving the house to go to school , she picked up one-year-old Eros and looked in his eyes lovingly.

"Who loves you?" she asked him, gently resting her forehead against his.

"Mommy," he said with a grin.

"That's right," she sang, grinning back at him. He giggled excitedly at the sight of her adoring eyes. "You are so sweet." She kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you, Mommy," he said.

"I love you, too, baby," she said, kissing him on the forehead and putting the rather large toddler down on the floor. He clumsily walked into his bedroom to play with his toys. "How quickly he's learned talking and walking around by himself. He's smarter than I am; I can already tell. My use of Nigrovum was flawless in my making of him. He's a genius, and I'm a goddess."

She heard Emily, Eros's live-in nanny, come in through the front door with some groceries. This woman had been his nanny since shortly after Camilla came back from Thailand the year before. Knowing how traumatized he had been when she left him with Clara to go on her vacation with Veronica, Camilla had to think fast to prevent a repeat of such trauma. Emily now made it easy for Camilla to part with her son regularly for school, work, or sex.

Emily was a perfect nanny for Eros: she was patient, loving, responsible, and even resembled Camilla in her mannerisms. Every day before leaving, all Camilla had to do was use Nigrovum to make Emily look and sound like Eros's beloved mommy; that way, the boy would be tricked into thinking Camilla was always with him. Emily would see herself in the mirror and hear her own voice, but Eros would see and hear Camilla. He would call Emily 'Mommy', but his nanny would hear him call her Emily.

With Eros upstairs, playing with his toys in his bedroom and not knowing what Camilla was doing, she could stand behind Emily while she was taking the groceries out of the bags, and visualize her looking and sounding exactly like Camilla. Within seconds, the transformation was complete without either the nanny or the boy being the wiser, and Emily, now a perfect clone of Camilla, went upstairs to see Eros.

Camilla walked out the front door with her book-bag and headed for the bus stop. It'll only be a matter of time before my genius son realizes that Emily isn't me, she thought; when that happens, hopefully he'll be able to accept being separated from me from time to time.

******************

It was just after 8:00 that night in an evening class: Camilla was sitting up front as usual, listening to her prof, Dr. Cage, lecturing on 'The Miller's Tale', from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.

Dr. Cage was discussing a trick being played on John by Nicholas, who hoped to get into bed with Alison, John's beautiful wife. "Nicholas warns John of another Great Flood," Cage said, "and that if they are to save themselves, Nicholas and John must suspend themselves and Alison in tubs from the ceiling. Assuming Nicholas and Alison would do the same, John puts himself inside a tub suspended high from the ceiling; meanwhile, Nicholas and Alison are about to go to bed together.

"Then Absolon, a parish clerk who also lusts after Alison, comes to John's house that night, hoping for a kiss. Absolon is standing in the dark by a privy window, waiting for her to appear. Alison, who wants Nicholas, only wants Absolon to go away, which he won't. She agrees to let him have one kiss, though it won't be the kind of kiss he was hoping for. Unable to see anything in the dark, he puckers up, and she sticks her naked ass out the window. He kisses her asshole, and knowing she has no beard, is shocked by all the hair he feels brushing against his face."

The class was echoing with loud laughter. Camilla, however, was the only one not laughing, for her psychic powers were giving her the vague impression something bad was about to happen, there in her classroom, and elsewhere, to Veronica. 

******************

Indeed, while Camilla was having her out-of-body memory visions, she could also see what had happened to Veronica during the Chaucer lecture, for Nigrovum had thus expanded her consciousness to know the relevant experiences of others.

At the very moment Camilla was hearing Dr. Cage's lecture, Veronica was in the large guest room of Mayor Garth Van Duyne's house, with all his politically influential friends.

The guest room was dimly lit with tall candles, and priceless antique furniture graced the whole area. Though the place was beautifully decorated, it had an eerie atmosphere that Veronica found frightening. Strange ritual-like chanting could be heard from another room, over an intercom. She was surrounded by seated men in black suits and grotesque masks, like those worn by the Satanists in the mansion by Grouse Mountain near Vancouver. They were all sitting in a circle around her, with the mayor, also masked, on a chair facing her. The beginning of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring was playing on Garth's stereo.

A few nights earlier, Garth had gone over to Club Ritz and gotten lap-dances from Veronica and Camilla; he'd thanked Camilla for her help in getting him elected mayor, for she'd used the same mind-controlling powers he'd used on her to get all her many Club Ritz customers--her transvestite followers especially--to make them vote for him. Garth was content to have only Veronica come over to his house, since the masked men would be able to send their psychic power out of the house and manipulate Camilla in her classroom that night.

He lured Veronica over to his house with the promise of paying her extremely well for a private strip show. When she'd arrived, however, she was disturbed at the sight of all those masked men; not only were the men frightening to see, but since she'd eaten some of Camilla's come and received a bit of Nigrovum's power, she had vague psychic feelings that she wasn't safe. The music suddenly got loud and tense: strings and horns were playing strong, irregular, stabbing rhythms.

Still, the men's much more proficient use of Nigrovum calmed her fears for the moment, and she asked, "Shall I start?"

"Of course, my dear," the mayor said. "Undress for us."

She reached behind and nervously pulled the zipper of her dress down from her neck to her waist.

******************

Camilla was the first in her classroom to sense a psychic power permeating the room, like an invisible gas. Everyone felt his will fade away, replaced by the will of the masked men. They all sat passively, as if awaiting orders.

Dr. Cage, also under the control of the masked men, said, "Camilla and Chris, please come to the front of the class now." The prof didn't know his two students' names, but the masked men knew, and used him as their spokesman.

Chris, a tall, thin, and cute boy with blond hair and blue eyes, came up with Camilla before all the students.

"What do you want us to do, sir?" she asked Dr. Cage.

"I want you and Chris to re-enact the scene of Absolon and Alison," Dr. Cage said. "Camilla, take all your clothes off."

She immediately unzipped her pants.

******************

Veronica removed her evening dress and dropped it on the floor. The masked men doing the ritual in the other room were channeling Nigrovum's power to control not only Veronica, but Camilla's entire classroom, making what happened in both places parallel each other with perfect synchronism.

Though Veronica acted with complete, docile compliance, she was still inwardly frightened. She slowly removed her dark red bra and let it fall by her feet on the floor. She began pulling down her matching panties timidly, looking over at masked Garth. Though she had to obey, she could only feel intimidated by the mysteriousness of the masked men surrounding her.

"Don't be shy, Veronica," the mayor said. "Take it all off."

"OK," she said with a slightly shaky voice. She pulled her panties further down and dropped them at her ankles; she pulled her feet through the leg holes, then removed her high heels.

The men all ogled her naked body with lewd smirks.

"Beautiful," the mayor said.

******************

Camilla pulled down her jeans, revealing her pink lace panties; everyone watching her smiled. When her jeans had come down to her ankles, she bent over, unlaced her sneakers, then took them off. She pulled her feet out of her pants, then pulled off her white socks. Next to come off was her tight green T-shirt. Her ornately designed pink lace bra and panties were a feast for her viewers, all as mesmerized by the power of Nigrovum as they were by her sexiness.

Chris stood beside her, and was especially enthralled by her black-haired, 'Goth girl' beauty. She removed her bra with a joyful wiggle of her tits, then she pulled down her panties to reveal her black pubic hair. She was now fully naked in front of everyone.

Dr. Cage, the dummy of the ventriloquist masked men, now said, "OK, Camilla, now turn around, get on the floor on all fours, and spread your legs out wide so everyone can see your asshole." Camilla did as she was told. Then Cage was made to say, "Now, Chris, squat behind her and passionately kiss her asshole."

******************

Stravinsky's music had gotten slow, soft, and mournful. In her helplessness, Veronica felt the same way. I wish Camilla were here, she thought.

Mayor Van Duyne said, "Veronica, go outside and masturbate over the grass. A man there will collect your secretion on the grass, and make a special use of it. Go outside now." She went out.

The voices in the other room ritualistically chanted, "Vote Green Party! Vote Green Party!"

"Well, this has been a good first year for you, Your Worship," a masked man sitting beside Garth said to him. "Camilla and her many friends really multiplied your support base, like a fast-spreading infection."

"Yes, the Green Party's influence is growing at an unprecedentedly fast pace," Garth said, "in spite of the controversies of old Green Party purists splitting off from us, accusing us of corrupting their 'principles' ."

"Are you worried about their newly-formed 'Earth Party'?" another masked man asked the mayor.

"Not at all," Garth said. The music suddenly exploded in loud, violent dissonance. "We're an unstoppable force now, thanks to Nigrovum. What our associates started in cities like Vancouver has spread everywhere. Nigrovum has been found on vegetation worldwide. Politicians, businessmen, and bankers in countries all over the world are doing rituals like this one, with girls like Veronica and Camilla as their puppets. In the coming years, everyone will be enslaved to their lust and materialism, we'll get their money by making them buy whatever we'd have them buy; and I, one day, will be Prime Minister, controller of Canada's section of our worldwide revolution."

*******************

"Can everybody see me OK?" Camilla asked, looking back at her classmates, who all ogled her ass.

"Yes," they all moaned.

"Start kissing and licking," Dr. Cage told the boy.

Camilla had taken a shit just before class started, so Chris had her faecal odour in his face. Unable to resist the trance the masked men had put him in, he began licking and kissing her black asshole.

"That's what Absolon did with Alison," Cage said.

"Vote Green Party," Camilla moaned. "Vote Green Party."

Soon, everyone--including Cage and even Chris, between his licks and kisses--began to chant, "Vote Green Party. Vote Green Party."

********************

The music, beginning Part Two of the ballet, had gotten soft again, but eerie-sounding.

"No one will take seriously what the old Green Party dissidents are saying about us," Garth continued, "that a harmless environmentalist party is plotting world domination. The people in the new 'Earth Party' are making fools of themselves with their conspiracy theories. Did you hear about that Indian doctor in Vancouver, a Dr. Ravinder Singh? He attests to this conspiracy, and he's laughed at every time he warns people. We've nothing to fear. If our American associates were infiltrating the Republican Party, people would try to stop us, no doubt. But we've played this game very cleverly by choosing the peace-loving Greens."

Veronica came back into the living room, and a masked man followed her with a glass of grass coated with her come. She returned to her spot in the middle, encircled by the seated masked men.

"There isn't much come in it, the masked man with the glass told the mayor.

"So she isn't a gusher like Camilla," Garth said. "No matter: what she sprayed on the grass will be enough. We'll mix it into a drink, and serve it to the next group of strippers who come here for the ritual. It's best if they don't have too much Nigrovum in them--they may become more difficult to control, like Camilla. Think of how many men we needed to control her tonight. Only after enough of her lovers have died, and have grown antagonistic to her, will we be able to control her completely and permanently. As we wait for that day to finally come, we'll get the survivors among those strippers in our current rituals to use mind control on their customers, making them all vote for the Green Party."

"We'll soon control everyone," a masked man sitting across from Garth said. "Hail, Satan!"

"Hail, Satan?" Garth said with a sneer. "Hail, Nigrovum. I don't know about you, but I don't follow that old Vancouver cult."

"Of course not," the man across from him said. "We just adore what Satan symbolizes: desire for knowledge and power."

"Right," Garth said. "Killing our victims isn't a series of sacrifices to gain the favour of the 'devil'; it's to strengthen our power in the other world."

"You're not afraid of the hellish realms there, after we die?" the masked man to the left of the mayor asked.

"Not at all," Garth said. "We're going to own so-called 'hell'. We'll rejoice in our victory there, rather than suffer. Since we'll be taking over most of the realms there, the afterlife is nothing to fear. Most of the lost souls under our control will be languishing in our dominated area, and so we'll easily rule over them. Don't expect any of them to escape, let alone fight a war against us and ever hope to win. We'll rule the whole place, and we'll be happy. As Milton's Satan said, it's 'better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.'"

"Hail, Satan!" all the masked men shouted together.




Camilla Ch. 091



"Veronica," Garth told the still-entranced naked girl. "Get on the floor on all fours. We want to enjoy you now."

*******************

In Camilla's class, Chris was fingering her pussy vigorously as he continued kissing and licking her asshole. Dr. Cage and all the panting students watched the lovers, as if in a daze. The boy's finger tickled her G-spot and gently poked at her A-spot.

When she was about to come, Chris felt a psychic power bring his head down to her gaping cunt, and he pulled his finger out. With his mouth wide open, he received every drop of her plentiful ejaculation. After gulping it all down, he resumed licking her asshole; his finger rubbed against her hard clitoris.

Their watchers kept chanting, "Vote Green Party."

*******************

Mayor Van Duyne got behind Veronica, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his hard-on. Another masked man, with his pants and underwear pulled down, lay on his back on the floor under the dazed girl. A third masked man pulled out his cock and stood before her face, ready to get sucked off. The rest of the masked men just sat back and enjoyed the show.

The three men used their psychic powers to lubricate their cocks, her pussy and asshole, and to make her salivate. Then they slid their cocks in, all at the same time.

Stravinsky's music suddenly got loud and violent again, with a pounding drum and irregular rhythms.

She squealed as she felt the men's cocks thrust in and out, in and out. When she'd agreed to strip at the mayor's house, she hadn't agreed to the sex; but she was too much under the control of the men's psychic power to resist, of course, let alone to be aware of what they'd planned to do to her when they were finished fucking her.

"You see...," Garth groaned as he slid his cock in and out of her rectum, "we elites...enjoy sex, but we aren't...slaves to it, as she is...or as the common...herd is."

"Yeah!" the man getting blown sighed. "Oh!"

"Democracy...," the mayor continued as he ass-fucked her, "is absurd. There are leaders...and followers. That's natural. It's always...been that way, it always...will be that way. Unh! Here, and in...the other world."

*******************

Camilla came in the boy's wide-open mouth again; he swallowed it all, except for a few drops running down his chin. He gulped it down, then resumed licking her asshole.

"Can everybody...see?" she asked in squeals. "Ah!"

"Yes, we can," still-hypnotized Dr. Cage said. Indeed, all the students were crowding around her and her ass-licker to get a better look.

They kept chanting, "Vote Green Party."

*******************

Veronica's fuckers were about to come. They all pulled their cocks out; Garth and the man fucking her pussy got up and stood before her, with the man she'd been blowing.

Then all the other masked men got up and stood around her. They all had their hard cocks out, masturbating over her face.

The music had reached the last five minutes or so, and was now climactically violent and dissonant. The priest doing the ritual in the other room said, "NIgrovum rained from heaven all over Mother Earth." Right at the sound of those words, the masked men all ejaculated on her face and hair, and Camilla had then come in Chris's mouth a third time, too.

The masked men's come covered Veronica's face so completely that she could hardly breathe. Garth took a small knife out of his blazer pocket; he slit her throat with it.

"OK, men," he said. "Grab a part of her body, and dig in. Bon appetit." They used Nigrovum to visualize their teeth as sharp and strong as lions': within seconds, their teeth were just so. Then they all grabbed her arms, legs, and torso, and started biting into her flesh. Garth was biting off chunks of her buttocks; other men fed on her belly and breasts, spitting out the silicone. When they were all finished eating her, her corpse was little more than a skeleton. Her blood was a pool staining the mayor's carpet. He was content with that, though.

"She is now ours," he told the men. "We control her soul in the other world, as we will Camilla's. Let Camilla believe she's a goddess here: we know better, as she will know soon enough. It truly amuses me how the common people think they have power, when really they're mere ants under our crushing feet."

********************

The masked men made that 'gas' of mind control disappear instantly, and everyone in Camilla's classroom suddenly came out of his trance, as if having abruptly woken from a deep sleep, and having forgotten what had just happened. They were now, however, perfectly conscious of what they were looking at--Chris with his face in Camilla's naked ass! Shocked looks were on Dr. Cage's and all his students' faces to see naked Camilla on the floor on all fours. Chris couldn't believe his tongue was actually touching her asshole! Having a taste for coprophilia, though, he didn't mind the faecal smell.

She was as surprised by her embarrassment as she was to find herself suddenly naked there--after all, she hadn't been the one using Nigrovum to control the situation...other, unknown people had.

Thinking fast, she visualized everyone, except her prof, as being frozen in time. Within seconds, everyone except herself and Dr. Cage were in a motionless tableau vivant.

She got on her feet, then turned around for her teacher. "Do you like my body, sir?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, as embarrassed as he was aroused.

With her back to him, she spread her legs and bent over so he could see her asshole and pussy again. "Would you like to fuck me?"

"I'd love to," he panted.

"Good," she said, straightening up and reaching for her underwear. "Gotta get something good out of this embarrassing situation. Take me to Giovanni's tomorrow night, then to your home, or mine, for sex." She put her feet through the leg-holes of her panties.

"OK," he said. "I just have to figure out how to get away from my wife."

"Sorry I can't stay naked for you now, sir," she said as she put on her bra. "I'm still a little weirded out by what just happened here. Normally, I'm the one who controls public sex events like this."

"You do, do you?" he asked, remembering all those rumours about a sometimes blonde, sometimes black-haired girl having public sex with York profs.

"Yeah," she said, putting on her socks. "I don't know who made this public sex thing happen: I'll have to find out."

Camilla's vague sense that something bad had happened to Veronica that night is what made her choose to relive this particular memory; now that she'd seen Veronica's death at the hands of the masked men, she could start to piece together all the events that had led to her predicament in the Montreal aquarium.

"Who else could have done this?" Dr. Cage, still stunned at the sight of his unmoving students, asked Camilla as she picked up her T-shirt. "Do you think they could have used some kind of black magic?"

"Black egg magic, actually," she said as she put on her T-shirt.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, never mind," she said as she picked up her jeans. "It's a long story: I'll explain everything during our date. Just take me out to Giovanni's tomorrow night, then fuck me. You'll love my body."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She was putting on her jeans now. "I'm great in bed. Fuck my pussy, my ass, and my mouth." She started putting on her shoes. "I'll even let you come on my face."

"Wow. What'll we do about all these potential gossipers?"

"Oh, I've got that. Don't worry: I'll make them forget everything that just happened."

"Don't make them forget my lecture."

"Oh, they won't forget that," she said. Now fully dressed again, Camilla closed her eyes and visualized every student's memory of the embarrassing situation during their class that night, from the mind controlling 'gas' and her undressing, until the end of her present visualizing, all erased like an old tape recording. (She didn't erase the sex scene from Chris's mind, though: she found him cute, was glad to have had him see her naked, and saw him as a potential new follower of hers.)

While she erased the sex scene from all the other students' memories, she deliberately left a light trace of the memory buried in her classmates' subconscious, the light trace being like those barely audible vestiges of an old, erased tape recording. Her vanity wanted everyone to have some sense of what she looked like nude.

When she was finished erasing her classmates' memory of her embarrassing moment, she went back to her seat and sat down. Then she released her classmates from their motionlessness.

"What the hell?" Chris said as he looked around. All the other students were still standing closer to the front desks, as they had been when they were watching him eating out her ass. They, too didn't understand why, one moment, they were sitting listening to Dr. Cage talking about 'The Miller's Tale'; and now, with this sudden interruption, they were standing closer to the front, with Chris in front of them, hurrying back to his seat.

As Chris went back to his seat, he blushed to see Camilla smirking at him. After all, only he, she, and their teacher remembered his face being just inches from her naked ass a few minutes ago. Dr. Cage resumed his lecture, also blushing whenever he looked at smirking Camilla.

After class, Camilla followed Chris to the bus stop. "Hi!" she said with a grin when they stopped to wait for the bus.

"Oh, uh, hi," he said shyly, looking away.

"What's your name, sweetie?" she asked.

"Chris," he said, blushing, but getting a hard-on.

"I'm Camilla, and you're cute. You seem kinda young to be in a third year class," she said.

"Yeah," he said. "Well, I'm 18, actually. I started university two years ago, because I skipped two grades back in public school."

"Wow, you must be a smart one, then."

"I guess so."

Now Camilla used her mental powers to communicate more privately with him: Do I look good naked?

Startled as much by the fact that he 'felt' her question as he was by its boldness, he asked, "Did you just...what?"

She looked hard into his eyes. Do you think my nude body looks beautiful?

Now he tried the same mental communication: Yeah, absolutely. He was amazed by his success at it.

Thank you. Sorry if my bum smelled like poo.

Oh, that's OK. Your poo is divine, as far as I'm concerned. The bus arrived, and they got on. They found a seat and sat together; the bus started driving out of the York campus.

I'm glad you can appreciate my dirtier sides. Can you guess why I can communicate with you without talking?

"How?" he asked.

I'm a goddess, that's how. When you were licking my poo-hole, I was controlling the whole thing. Though she'd obviously lied about that, she definitely wanted to find out who really had controlled their classroom sex. I also made everyone else in our class forget what happened, to avoid embarrassment and gossip. That's how powerful I am.

"Oh, come on," he said. "Do you really expect me to believe all that? You're a goddess?" He whispered that last word.

Do you have a better explanation for why, one moment we were listening to Dr. Cage, the next moment, I was naked and you were licking my ass?

No.

Or how nobody was looking at you or me weirdly after that? she psychically asked him.

"No," he said. "I can't explain any of that."

"Then just accept my explanation," she said. Then she whispered in his ear, "I have special talents you are now only beginning to know about."

"Wow," he whispered, feeling his hard-on pressing painfully against his pants' zipper. "You're beautiful, and powerful."

Wanna worship my divinity?

Yes, Goddess.

"Then meet me in my house tomorrow afternoon," she said, taking out her new name card, with the address of Agape's old house on it. She gave him the card. "Tomorrow at 2 PM. Don't be late."

"I won't," he said, pulling the cord for his stop and getting up. Good night, Goddess.

Go in peace, she psychically told him as he got off the bus. And vote Green Party.

*******************

Chris arrived punctually on the porch of Camilla's house at 2 PM the next day, ringing the doorbell. Emily answered the door. Little Eros stood by Emily's feet, looking up at her and seeing Camilla.

"Come in," Emily said. "Camilla's upstairs in the bathroom. There are two other guys waiting up there for her in her bedroom. Go up and meet them; she'll be with you all in a minute."

"OK," Chris said nervously. Two other guys? he thought as he went up the stairs. Does she have other worshippers? He looked in her bedroom. He was surprised to see, apparently, two young women in there, heavily made up and wearing tight red and blue dresses. I thought they were guys; if they are, they look amazing as girls.

Camilla had her original blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look. Naked, she was sitting on the toilet and ready to crap. Sensing Chris's presence, he mentally said, Hi Chris. All three of you boys join me in here.

The transvestites followed Chris into the bathroom. So they are guys, Chris thought.

"Hi, sweetie," she said as he walked in; he blushed to see her naked on the toilet, and turned his eyes away. "Don't be shy, Chris. You can look at my body; you've already seen it. Chris, meet Joey and Allen; Allen and Joey, this is Chris."

"Hi," he said shyly, shaking Joey's hand, then Allen's. "You're very convincing as girls--I mean, dressed that way. I--I really thought you were girls."

"Thanks," Allen said, almost mechanically.

"This is how we serve the Goddess," Joey said, in a similarly soulless way. "By imitating her."

"As you soon will," Camilla said, staring intensely into Chris's eyes.

"As I soon will," he obediently answered, in a trance.

"Close the door, Joey," she commanded; Joey did so. "Now, Chris, let's see just how accepting you can really be of my natural smells." I'm controlling this sexual scene, as I plan to control all future ones. She farted, and dropped a few turds into the toilet bowl with her drizzling piss. "To worship me properly, you must appreciate my dirty sides." A few more turds plopped out; all three enthralled boys obediently sniffed away, looking at and adoring her beautiful naked body, and the way her curvaceous, round buttocks caressed the the toilet seat as she pissed and shat. "As Marilyn Monroe once said, 'if you can't handle me at my worst, you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.'"

"Did you dye your hair?" Chris asked. "Are you wearing blue contact lenses? I remember your eyes being black."

"Nope, no dyeing, no contact lenses," she said, finishing her crap, getting up and flushing. "These are my original body colours."

"Then you'd dyed your hair black last night?" Chris asked. "And you were wearing black contact lenses then?"

"Wrong again," she said, getting on the floor on all fours, with her legs spread open and her shitty asshole showing in all insouciance. Allen pulled some toilet paper off the roll and gave it to Chris. "My divine power allows me to change my looks at will. I can even make myself look Asian if I want; I once did, you know. But if you'd like to see my Goth-girl look, here you are." She closed her eyes, and visualized the Goth look: in a second, she opened her eyes to show off the black hair, black eyes, and peach skin of the night before; she closed her eyes again, and visualized her original look, and her blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look came back just as quickly as it had gone. She opened her eyes. "Ta da!"

"Amazing," Chris panted.

"Thank you," she said. "You passed your first test, smelling my poo and not flinching. Now for your next test of devotion: clean me." She looked down at her ass, then at the toilet paper in his hand.

"Gladly, Goddess," he said, getting down on all fours behind her ass. He gently touched her muddy asshole with the toilet paper, and put his free hand on her left buttock, pushing it open wider to get better access. He wiped with soft strokes, diagonally from top to bottom, gradually removing all the brown and revealing the original beige colour of her pretty anus, always indulging his coprophilia by sniffing away and enjoying her faecal smell, to him, a divine aroma. "OK, you're all clean now."

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, looking back at him and grinning at how he ogled her anus and sniffed if, his nose an inch away. She could feel his exhaling softly blow against her asshole. "You truly know how to worship me in the right way, honouring even my stinky smells. Let's get up now, and get me and Chris dressed." They got up.

"Get me dressed?" he asked as they walked out of the bathroom.

"Yes," she said as they went back into her bedroom. "It's time for your next test of devotion: be an imitator of me." She presented Chris with a brown curly wig, a yellow dress, a pink bra with padding inside, pink panties, and white high heels. Having psychically scanned what size clothing he wore all over his body, back when they were on the bus the night before, Camilla knew exactly what size of clothes to buy for him in Clara's store that morning.

"You want me to dress in drag?" he asked nervously.

"Of course," she said, touching his neck. She closed her eyes and visualized all his excess body hair disappearing, as well as his Adam's apple being much smaller. In a few seconds, his Adam's apple had shrunk to the point of being unnoticeable, and the only body hair he had that would have been easily seen was a moderate amount of pubic hair. His armpits seemed closely shaved, and his legs were silky smooth.

"Ooh!" he said with a shiver. "I feel different. What did you do to me?"

"I just improved your looks," she said. Sensing his reluctance to cross-dress, she then looked piercingly into his eyes and said, "You will now get naked and wear your new clothes."

"I will now get naked and wear my new clothes," he obediently repeated, then immediately began to disrobe. When he was naked, indeed, he had the relatively hairless body of a preteen boy, his only noticeable body hair being a small tuft of brown pubic hair above his penis. He put on the women's clothes, then Camilla got out some bright makeup and painted up his face. Finally, he put on the wig. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," she said. "You're a true priest of the Goddess now." Allen and Joey got her black evening dress out of her closet and some matching high heels. She put them on, then made up her face with bright red lipstick, pink blush, dark blue eye-shadow, and thick, black mascara. "And how do I look now?"




Camilla Ch. 091



"Divine, Goddess," the three transvestite 'priests' said. "Divine!"

"Thank you, boys," she said. Then she went out of the bedroom and looked down the stairs. "Emily! Have Eros come up here!"

The little boy slowly and awkwardly climbed the stairs. He made it to the top with no help at all, then joined his mom and her three 'priests' in her bedroom.

"He's so clever, my boy," she said. "He's way ahead, for a one-year-old. Do you know why?" She picked him up, sat on the bed, and held him on her lap. "Do you?"

"Because he's divine, too," Chris said.

"That's right, sweetie," she said with an ear-to-ear grin. "He's Eros, the son of a goddess. Bow before him, boys."

"Yes, Goddess," the three young men said together. They got on their knees before her and her child, and looked up adoringly at them. She held Eros like Isis holding Horus: a pagan Madonna and Child.

Good, she thought; I'm the one with the power now. I'm the master of Nigrovum, not anyone else. "There's one more thing you must do for me, Chris."

"What's that, Goddess?" he asked, eager to obey.

"The Green Party is the party of the Goddess, the party of our Holy Mother Earth," she said, kissing Eros on the forehead. "Vote Green Party, always."

"Vote Green Party, always!" all three transvestites shouted together.

*********************

That night, Dr. Cage sat in the living room of his home, with his wife watching TV.

He felt terribly conflicted about seeing Camilla: on the one hand, two things about her made him want to stay away--first, the possibility that she was the girl rumoured to have publicly fucked a number of York profs, endangering their careers and marriages, second, the black magic he'd seen practiced by her; on the other hand, she was so hot!

What a thrill it had been to see her gleefully displaying her nudity in front of him, and to hear her so bluntly say she was willing to receive not only vaginal, but also anal and oral sex from him...including a facial!

As he thought about this tempting side of his conflict, he felt his penis grow erect in his pants. Then, a strange heat vibrated all over his body, making him start to sweat: this heat was tugging at him, urging him to get up from his chair and leave the house. More of that girl's black magic? he wondered.

As he walked out of the living room, his wife looked up at him and asked, "Where are you going, honey?"

"Oh, uh, out," he said nervously. "I feel a little hot. I'd like to take a walk. I'll be back later."

"Oh, OK," she said.

He went out the front door with his car keys in his hand.

As he was driving to her house, never having learned her address, bur uncannily knowing exactly what streets to drive on, naked Camilla was sitting on her father's old chair in her living room, with her eyes closed. She had her original blonde look.

You want to fuck me, Dr. Cage, she chanted over and over again.

When she sensed his car driving up the road to her house, she, always naked, went out the front door and stood on the driveway so he could see her. He parked his car by the curb in front of her house, then got out.

"You l-like being a-an exhibitionist?" he asked her.

"Yep," she said with a grin. "Do you like me as a blonde?"

"Oh, yeah," he sighed. "You look even sexier that way."

"Great," she said. "You stood me up, you naughty boy. We were supposed to go to Giovanni's. Now that it's so late, we'll have to skip right to the sex." They walked into her house.

"Sorry, but my wife--"

"Shh!" she interrupted. "My son and nanny are asleep. I used my power to really knock them out so they won't hear us, but sometimes I worry that my power's limitations will make themselves known unexpectedly, as they did last night in your class." She led Dr. Cage upstairs to her bedroom.

She got on her bed on her back and spread her legs out wide. She then lifted her legs up high over her head so both her cunt and asshole were visible to him. He nervously started getting undressed.

"You have a son?" he asked as he took his shirt off.

"Yes, my baby Eros. But let's not talk about him. Sometimes my mentioning of his name causes him to want to come over to me. He's sleeping soundly now, and I don't want to wake him."

"OK," Cage said as he took off his pants. "How'd you make everyone forget what happened last night?"

"I'll explain another time," she said impatiently. "Just get up here and fuck me."

"OK." Naked now, he got on the bed. "What about condoms?"

"Don't worry about them. My power can protect you and me from any disease. In fact, you'll share a bit of my power after we fuck. Even if you were to wear a condom, you'd still get my power transmitted to you. Stick your cock in me."

She'd helped him get a full erection, so impatient was she to get a fuck. He slowly slid his cock inside her dripping wet cunt, and he moaned in ascending pitches with her sighs. When he'd got his cock all the way in, she squealed in whistle register and had her first ejaculation.

"Wow," he moaned as he continued shoving it inside her. "You come quickly...and copiously."

"Yeah, ah! I'm like that. Oh!"

As they were fucking, Eros woke up to the sound of his mother's screams. Psychically, he could vaguely sense that someone was inside her, giving her some kind of pleasure he was too young to understand. Though happy to know his mommy was feeling good, he felt an inexplicable haze of jealousy. Too afraid to know what was going on in her bedroom, he just lay in bed and tried to understand the psychic sensations he was feeling, as well as what all that moaning and screaming could have possibly meant.

"Ah!" Camilla screamed, coming a second time. "Wanna fuck...my ass?"

"Sure," Dr. Cage grunted. "Unh!"

He pulled his drowning cock out of her soaking wet pussy, and she lifted her legs up higher so he could see her asshole. "Smear my come up my ass," she sighed. He did.

When her rectum was thoroughly lubricated with her come, he carefully pushed the tip of his hard-on against her gluttonous anus. As it slid in further and further, they both moaned louder and louder. She looked directly into his eyes, her face telling him just how welcome his cock was inside her butt.

When he got his cock all the way in and began thrusting, he reached forward and grabbed her tits. Her eyes squinted as she felt his cock stretching her anal walls out. He loved the way her anal lips tightly wrapped themselves around his cock and squeezed it.

"Do you...like that?" she asked. "Oh!"

"Oh, yeah," he groaned.

"Want some...ass to mouth?"

"Sure." He pulled his cock out of her ass, then stood up on the bed as she rolled over, kneeling before his cock. Looking up into his eyes and smirking, she began kissing and licking his knob, then she took it half-way inside her mouth. He looked down at her and smiled, wishing his wife could have had half Camilla's enthusiasm in bed.

She held his balls in her hand and gently played with them as her salivating lips slid up and down his shaft. Psychically sensing he was about to come, she pulled his cock out of her mouth, then jacked him off for a few seconds, always with his cock pointed straight at her face. He splashed his come on her nose, in her left eye, on her left cheek, on her lips, and on her chin.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked, his come spitting from her mouth as she talked.

"That was incredible," he sighed. "But what will we do now?"

"You will go home," she said. "You've satisfied the Goddess for the night."

"The Goddess?"

"Yeah, that's me. Go on, sir: the wife is wondering where you are. You were just supposed to be taking a walk, remember?"

"How did you know I told her that?" he asked, getting off the bed and reaching for his clothes.

"I told you," she said, his come still dripping off her face. "I'm a goddess. I have great power." As her now fully-dressed teacher was rushing out of her bedroom, she said, "Vote Green Party, always." He repeated those words mechanically as he went out the front door.

*********************

37-year-old Camilla's out-of-body memory vision had come to an end, and she felt the vision fading away, returning her to her terrible, unending ordeal in the Montreal aquarium. She didn't feel like a goddess now. She seemed to have absolutely no power now, either.

It was the night of that third day, and she was being gang-raped by the spirits of those high school teachers with whom she'd once had such a wild and merry gang-bang: Mr. Williams, Mr. Knowles, Mr. Burgess, Mr. Langella, and Mr. Johnson. The spirits of those four Vancouver punks were waiting their turn, too, just like that night over two years earlier; but her embittered teachers had no desire to defend her this time.

We meet again, Camilla, Knowles mentally said as his and Langella's invisible cocks shared her gaping pussy. No armpit for me this time, though; I insist on that.

You wanna get gang-banged? Williams mentally sang, to the tune of Trampauline's old song.

You'll always be gang-banged! Johnson, Burgess, Langella, and Williams all psychically sang.

It certainly seemed that she always would be.



Camilla Ch. 092



It was the fourth day of 37-year-old Camilla's ordeal in the public aquarium in Montreal. The news cameras of the worldwide media were still filming her, lechers were still getting video of her naked body on their cell-phone cameras, and none of her mesmerized watchers, who'd filled the viewing area to capacity, had left, had the intention of leaving, or had even the free will to leave. Such was the power that the masked men had over everyone--whether the spirits of dead masked men, or the living ones who were psychically controlling the spectacle from secret places around the world.

Camilla was now being gang-banged by the spirits of Joey, Chris, and another former classmate of hers, a boy she'd met in her fourth undergraduate year at York University in Toronto. Joey's invisible cock was going in and out of her mouth, making her right cheek puff out; Chris's invisible cock was causing the gaping in her pussy; and the other boy's invisible cock was making her asshole widen. Only she could 'see' her rapist ghosts: the malice in their eyes frightened her beyond description.

Her come and piss continued to pour out into the tank of water she was being made to hover over. She was as helpless as ever, just passively watching people get video of her spread-out legs. 

You humiliated us, the third boy's spirit mentally told her. Now we're humiliating you.

I can't believe some of the shit you made us all do, Joey's spirit added. Degrading!

Camilla, this can't go on, Don's spirit told her.

Allow yourself to die, Agape's spirit psychically said. We'll save you in the other world.

We have a psychic force field protecting the glass of this water tank, so it won't break, Candice's spirit told Camilla. It could hold for a few weeks, maybe even as long as a month or two; but we don't know. The masked men are limiting our power. You must let go of this world.

I'm too scared to die, Camilla kept repeating mentally, with copious tears running down her cheeks. The masked men will never let me out of hell. That's where they want me.

We'll get you out, Agape told her. Trust us.

There's no way out of hell, Camilla said. Hell is forever. You know that, Daddy. The Church taught us that.

We know a spiritual reality beyond the teaching of any religion, Dr. Singh communicated from Vancouver. Heaven and hell aren't absolutes, and they aren't opposites. They're more like the extremes of a continuum, but coiled into a circle.

Yeah, Candice added. The afterlife is like a wheel.

Or a snake, curled in a circle, biting its tail, Don told Camilla. Heaven is the snake's head, so to speak, and hell is its tail. The length of its body is, as it were, every intermediate stage between the extremes. It's the ouroboros, a symbol of eternity.

The eternity is what scares me, Camilla told them. I don't think I'll escape the tail, where I'm going. I'm too addicted to sex to resist. I hate being here, but I can't stop loving the sex.

It will be difficult, Singh mentally said, but the other world can be navigated. Candice was being gang-raped by masked men when we found her, and we got her out. She enjoys the bliss of the heavenly realms with your father now. We can save you, too, Camilla. Have faith in us.

But I don't have faith in myself, Camilla insisted. It's me the masked men want, not someone like Candice. Those bastards will never give me up. My lust gives them power. No longer able to endure her ongoing predicament, Camilla began to have another out-of-body vision, a memory going back sixteen years to when she was a month into her fourth university year in Toronto.

Just before leaving the house one morning to go to York, 21-year-old Camilla was trying to placate her 2-year-old son, who was angrily crying from seeing her leave him. 

"Sweetie," she gently chided Eros. "Nice boys don't get angry."

"Mommy!" Eros yelled. "Don't go!" He was sobbing loudly.

"Big boys don't cry," she said. "You're already quite big." (Indeed, at almost two and a third years old, he was over 90 cm tall.) "Mommy will be home soon; you wait in your room and play with your building blocks."

'Not-Mommy come home soon," he said angrily, meaning he knew Emily was being made to look and sound like Camilla. "I see Mommy, I hear Mommy, but not Mommy."

"Baby," Camilla said softly, hugging Eros. "No, she isn't Mommy. She's Emily, your nanny. But she's nice, isn't she?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

"I can't be here all the time, sweetie," Camilla said, kissing him on the cheek. "But Emily will take good care of you. She always has. And I'll be back soon enough--I promise."

"OK," he said sadly, but acquiescently. 

"Now, be good. Remember, Mommy likes nice boys, not bad boys. Big boys don't cry, and nice boys don't get mad."

Emily came in the front door with some groceries. Eros saw her as she really looked for the first time, since Camilla now knew how futile it was using her psychic powers to trick him into thinking his nanny was his mother. Emily smiled at him, but he shyly pushed his face against Camilla's chest, 'hiding' himself. 

Camilla looked down piercingly into his eyes. "You will be happy with Emily," she said. "You will be a good boy."

"I happy with Emily," he repeated, in a temporary trance. "I good boy."  

"Good," Camilla said, hugging him and kissing him on the forehead. "Gotta go." She got up. "He's all yours, Emily. Bye." Camilla went out the front door with her book-bag, heading for the bus stop.

Eros sadly watched his mother from the living room window. He was quiet and well-behaved, but a tear ran down his cheek.

*****************

In an afternoon class, blonde, blue-eyed Camilla listened to her teacher, Dr. Cecilia Moore, discuss Rudyard Kipling's short story, 'Mary Postgate.' Dr. Moore had an odd habit of spending more time discussing her political beliefs than 20th century British literature, the subject of the course.

"In 'Mary Postgate'," Dr. Moore began, "we see how the horrors of war, with its airplane bombings, destroy our Mother Earth as well as human lives. Fortunately we now live in a more enlightened time, when we are more ecologically minded. Green Parties, in countries in Europe, here in Canada, and even in America, are suddenly, surprisingly seeing huge rises in their support. It's unprecedented, and it's wonderful news."

Indeed, Camilla thought. She then psychically planted the following thought in the heads of everyone in her classroom: Vote Green Party.

Everyone, even the teacher, whispered, "Vote Green Party."

Dr. Moore returned to the story. "Wynn, a man Mary has secretly loved, dies a casualty of the war. If he has been killed by the German enemy, then all Germans are beasts to Mary, so when she sees a wounded German aviator, she refuses to help him. This normally emotionally repressed woman gets a strange thrill from watching the German slowly die. She seems to have had an orgasm, indulging in the pleasure of witnessing the erotic humiliation of another."

Getting turned on watching someone die? Camilla thought. When I watched Daddy die, I was pretty fucking far from being turned on; though fucking his re-animated corpse was the fuck of the century, that's for sure. Of course, I'm a certified nympho, and the opposite of prudish, proper Mary.

Speaking of thrills from the dead, Camilla suddenly felt an invisible finger go inside her pussy, right there during class! The finger gently tickled her G-spot, and she got moist between the legs within seconds. She tried desperately to keep her heavy breathing as inaudible as possible.

She'd never found out who had caused her previous embarrassing incident, a year before, when she was made to strip naked and receive anilingus from Chris in her night class with Dr. Cage. Wanting to be prepared for any subsequent incidents, she'd visualized a psychic 'window' through which she could 'look' and 'see' who was using Nigrovum's mind-controlling powers on her. 

There had been a few brief public incidents since her class with Dr. Cage, in which she had been masturbated in class; but they stopped mere seconds after they started, to keep her from 'seeing' who her intruders were. This incident in Dr. Moore's class was the most intense one since that of Dr. Cage's lecture; she 'looked' through that psychic window and saw the ghost of Veronica.

Do you like that, Camilla? Veronica's ghost asked, being heard only by Camilla.

Yeah, Camilla answered, but not now, baby.

Yes, Veronica's spirit insisted. Now, baby.

As Camilla felt that invisible finger go all the way up her cunt and gently jab at her A-spot, she heard the grotesque, distorted laughter of the masked men. She 'looked' through the 'window' as carefully and thoroughly as she could, but she didn't 'see' any of them, so cleverly had they hidden from her view.

Are the ghosts invading my days, now? Camilla wondered. Because I blotted them out of my dreams? Is that why this has been happening to me?

She was lucky to be wearing a miniskirt that day. Anticipating her approaching orgasm, she pulled down her panties, careful that no one saw her. Then she got a plastic bag out of her purse and put it between her legs. Just seconds before she came, she tried to use Nigrovum to make her whistle register scream inaudible. But she was too horny to concentrate and give focus to her psychic powers. So when her come filled the plastic bag, with some dribbling over the sides, everyone turned around to look at who suddenly screamed. 

"Sorry," she said with a blush.

"Surely the ending wasn't that shocking," Dr. Moore said. Everyone else chuckled.

The lecture ended, and she left the classroom with her head down low in embarrassment from her outburst. I'm getting pretty damn sick of being psychically controlled by others, she thought; I'm a goddess. This shouldn't be happening to me. I do the controlling, not others.

As she walked through the halls, she saw a boy she often saw there. He was a cute, thin brunet; clean-shaven, with smooth, soft facial features. She decided it was time to meet him. 

"Hi," she said to him.

"Hi," he said shyly. 

"What's your name, sweetie?" she asked.

"Sean," he said, looking away, though he really wanted to look at her beautiful body.

"My name's Camilla," she said, "and you're cute."

"Thanks," he said bashfully.

"I have something for you." She gave him the bag with her come in it.

"What is it?" 

"Drink it. It's good for you. You'll like it."

"Wait a minute," he said suspiciously. "I don't know..."

"You'll drink it," she said while looking sharply into his eyes. Vibrations radiated from her body into his, making him lift the bag up to his mouth.

"I'll drink it," he said, then obediently poured her come down into his mouth; she used Nigrovum to make sure none spilled outside. Though he was disturbed by the odd taste of the 'drink', the entranced boy now waited for his next command. 

"You'll now follow me," she said, still looking hard into his eyes. "I'm producing a play I want you to act in."

"I'll follow you," he said as he walked behind her, "You're producing a play you want me to act in."

I control others; they don't control me, Camilla thought as she and the boy went over to the drama building. One day, I'm gonna figure out how to control those masked bastards.

********************

Ten minutes later, Sean was standing in a small room next to a stage. He was facing Camilla and Ron, her gay friend from the Hallowe'en party in Mr. Berman's house three years before. She and Ron were sitting next to each other, behind a table, and asking Sean questions. 

"How old are you, sweetie?" she asked Sean.

"I just turned eighteen," he said.

"Perfect," Ron said, smiling lustfully at the boy. "Have you ever done any acting?"

"Yeah, I've been in a few plays," Sean said, mildly bi-curious about both of his attractive interviewers, though much preferring Camilla.

"Excellent," Camilla said with a big grin. "We're doing a production of Michel Tremblay's Hosanna. In English translation, of course. It's a story about two gay lovers and their conflicts and difficulties in society. We think you'd be perfect for the title role."

"Really?" Sean said excitedly. "A leading role for me?"

"Yes," Ron said, ogling the boy. "But it's a demanding role. We hope you can handle it."

"I'm ready for anything," the ambitious Sean insisted.

"Hosanna's a transvestite," Ron said bluntly.

"I can handle that," Sean said.

"And at the end of the play, Hosanna finally acknowledges that he's a man, and strips naked," Camilla added.

"He strips in front of his lover, Cuirette," Ron said, with a twinkle in his eyes. "My role."

"Oh, uh,..." Sean said, already suspecting Ron's sexual orientation. "Well, I suppose I can do that."

"Good," Camilla said. "Let's put you to the test, then. Strip for us."

"Now?" Sean asked, his nervous voice cracking.

"Yes," she said. "You have to get over your hang-ups. Besides, we have to make sure the Cleopatra dress we have fits you. Don't be shy, sweetie. The human body's beautiful: show us yours."

"Oh, uh, OK," Sean said, nervously unzipping his jeans. He pulled them down, looking down at his feet to avoid seeing their reaction to his white briefs. Off came his running shoes and socks, then he pulled his feet out of his pant legs. Next to come off was his green T-shirt. Now standing in only his underwear, he hesitated to pull them down. Though nervous, he was also getting excited in an exhibitionistic way, and was embarrassed about the beginnings of an erection he was feeling. 

"Don't be shy, baby" Camilla said. "If your penis is small, I promise we won't laugh at you." We'll just be disappointed, she thought.

He timidly pulled down his underwear, exposing his slightly erect penis. He pulled his legs through the leg-holes of his underwear and stood there, frontally nude before Camilla and Ron. He tried to control his shaking as their eyes went up and down his skinny, relatively hairless body.

"Well, what do you think?" Ron asked Camilla.

"He's beautiful," she sighed, staring at his penis. "He'll make a perfect drag queen."

"Turn around for us," Ron told Sean. "Let us see the rest of you." Sean slowly turned around, showing off his pretty little buttocks. "Perfect."

"OK, sweetie," Camilla said to Sean. "Come with me. I'll put on your makeup now."

Sean followed her to where he could sit in front of a mirror. She put some bright makeup on his face. Then she put a Cleopatra wig on his head. She and Ron looked at Sean's head for several seconds.

"That's Hosanna, all right," Ron said. "A total Elizabeth Taylor wannabe."

"Am I gonna put on a dress now?" Sean asked.

"Yep," Camilla said. "But you shouldn't be so anxious to cover your body. You have to get used to people seeing you naked, sweetie. If you can't handle us seeing you now, how will you be able to handle a whole audience seeing your penis, and with--hopefully--many performances?"

"I guess you're right," Sean said, putting his hands over his penis.

"Don't cover yourself," she said. "Let us see. You have a beautiful body, sweetie. Be proud of it."

Ron came over with the Cleopatra dress. "OK," he said. "Put this on, and let's see if it fits you."

Actually glad to put on a dress, Sean quickly got up and reached for it. When he had it on him and tried to zip it up all the way at the back, they found it was too small for him. Camilla put her hands on his waist and closed her eyes. Visualizing the dress to be altered to hug his body snugly and comfortably, she felt it loosen up just enough to be such a perfect fit. 

Surprised at the sudden lack of excess tightness, Sean asked, "What did you do? How come the dress suddenly fits me?"

"I have special powers," she said. "I'll show you a few more things I can do." She put her fingers on his Adam's apple.

"Oh?" Sean asked, startled to feel vibrations on his Adam's apple, face, neck, and legs. "What did you just do?"

"Look in the mirror," she said, "and lift up your dress."

He did as she asked. His Adam's apple was now so small as not to be seen, and his leg hair was all gone!

"How'd you remove my leg hair?" he asked. "And how'd you shrink my Adam's apple?"

"You're going to find you won't need to shave anymore, either," she said. "Your facial hair will no longer grow. I hope you weren't planning to grow a beard or moustache."

"OK, but how did you do all that?" he asked. "You some kind of witch?"

"No," she said with a proud smirk. "I'm a goddess." She touched his smooth legs and lifted up his dress to see his penis again.

"Oh?" he asked with a sneer of disbelief, then he blushed at how his exposed penis was getting erect again, from her pleasurable caressing of his legs.

"You don't believe me, eh?" she asked, still looking at his penis.

"No, of course not," he said, embarrassed by his erection, but excited to know she was interested in it.

"Well, if I'm not a goddess, do you have a better explanation for what just happened to you?" she asked, still smirking at his hard-on. "Can you explain how I got you to drink a plastic bag of my come?"

"No," he said, now turned on to know he'd drunk her come. Normally a guy who infamously struck out with girls, he thought he finally had a real chance to score with Camilla. 

"Good," she said.

"Then let's begin our first rehearsal," Ron said, now wearing a black leather jacket. 

*******************

As the rehearsals continued over the months, Sean gradually got used to getting naked in front of not only Camilla and Ron, but all the other people involved in the production of the play; for Camilla insisted that Sean had to be psychologically prepared to stand frontally nude before an audience packed with people. At the end of the play, he, as the drag queen Hosanna, had to strip naked and let the whole audience see his penis when he said to Ron (Cuirette), "I'm a man." 

Sean also had to get used to Ron touching him as a gay lover during all the rehearsals, something Sean was becoming increasingly aware of Ron enjoying. Sean subconsciously was beginning to like it, too, and Camilla psychically sensed the boy's bi-curiosity, always encouraging it. 

Now, while Sean was somewhat interested in Ron, he still lusted after Camilla much more. She of course knew this, and, thinking he was cute, had every intention of finally sleeping with him; but she wanted him first to be initiated into her cross-dressing 'priesthood'. That's why she wanted to do a production of Hosanna in the first place. She'd initiated Joey, Allen, and Chris in essentially the same way, through forms of, as she saw it, mild erotic humiliation: now it was Sean's turn. 




Camilla Ch. 092



Since she was becoming more erotically interested in boys, rather than older men, she had to reconcile this new object of her lust with her bitterness over how so many boys in her childhood had cruelly called her 'ugly'. To her, a boy was in a low and humble state, as opposed to the older men she revered and admired. For a boy to be worthy of having sex with her, he had to be humbled first.

Indeed, Camilla had insisted that Joey, Allen, and Chris all receive anal sex from, and perform fellatio on, Ron and his gay friends, with her watching. While enjoying the boys' erotic humiliation, she could also enjoy another of her guilty pleasures: watching gay sex. If pretty Sean was to have sex with her, he would soon have to receive cock in his ass and mouth, too, and she couldn't wait to see that. 

The first night of performances finally came after the beginning weeks of the second semester: Sean was dancing with jitters. Camilla, in her 'Goth' look, was helping him change backstage. 

"Don't be so nervous, sweetie," she told him as she helped the naked boy put on some pink panties.

"Sorry," he said as he felt the underwear hug his balls. "I'm a little worried about who'll see me."

"Everyone in our production has seen your penis and bum dozens of times," she said, helping him put on a pink padded bra. "You must be used to that by now."

"Yeah," he said, clipping the bra in place. "But what if my friends are in the audience?"

"Then they'll look at you in admiration of your beauty," she said, helping him put on the Cleopatra dress. She looked him in the eyes with a focused stare. "Relax," she said. "You'll be fine."

"I'll be fine," he repeated calmly.

After zipping up his Cleopatra dress at the back, she helped him put on his high heels and makeup. 

The play began fifteen minutes later, and he walked onstage with a confidence that surprised him. He said all of his lines on cue, without even the slightest of inappropriate pauses. His and Ron's performances engaged and captivated the audience, which included many of Ron's gay male friends.

Ted Weinstein, the man from the CBC whom Camilla had fucked three years before, was also among the audience. His wife had mysteriously died a few months after he'd had sex with Camilla, though he wasn't too heartbroken about it. A mere month or so after his wife died, he was fucking other women at the CBC, including many pretty young actresses. A year or so after that, he started wearing a mask on certain special occasions, as did some of his colleagues in the Canadian media. 

Just before the final moment of the play, when Sean was to get naked, Camilla visualized his penis getting partially erect. She wanted it to be especially visible to the whole audience, to emphasize Hosanna's maleness, as well as for other, more obvious reasons.

When Sean had finished stripping naked, done with a lack of inhibition that surprised Ron as much as it did Sean, Ron looked down at the boy's cock with lustful joy. 

Sean said the line, "I'm a man," while Ron was standing sufficiently to the side so the audience could all see Sean's penis. Then Ron embraced Sean, kissing him hard on the lips for about ten seconds before the curtain finally came down. 

The whole audience gave Sean and Ron a standing ovation. When they took their bows, Sean was still naked, completely insouciant that everything was showing. The audience just clapped and cheered louder.

**********************

Several more successful performances of the play were done, and Ted attended them all, informing the other masked men of Camilla's doings at York. She would continue to be thus monitored over the years by other masked men who were affiliated with the university. They were all biding their time, waiting for the right time to take complete control over Camilla's body.

Delighted with the continuing success of Hosanna, Camilla and Ron wanted to celebrate; so Camilla invited Sean, Ron, some of his gay male friends, and some of her fellow Club Ritz strippers to her house. Since she'd planned a particularly wild party that day, she had Emily take Eros out to the Eaton's Centre for the whole afternoon: they weren't to come home until sunset. 

It was an unusually warm day in late March, so Camilla and all her friends at the party took their drinks out into the backyard, and sat on the patio. Sean was the last invitee to arrive, since he'd taken a long time to get dressed properly: Camilla had insisted that he come in drag, and after so many productions of the play, he was now able to tart himself up without her help, though he was still rather slow at it. 

He arrived before them on the patio, wearing a navy blue evening gown, black high heels, and heavy makeup. 

"Hosanna, you look lovely," Ron said. 

"Thank you," Sean said shyly, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Don't be shy, sweetie," Camilla said. "Come sit next to me." He did. "We've been playing Truth or Dare? Have you ever played it?"

"Yeah, a few times back in high school," he said.

"Well, it gets a little wild with us," she said. "I hope you can handle it."

"Oh, I've been able to handle a lot of things over the past half year," Sean said. "I think I can do this."

"Good," she said. "It's your turn: ask me."

"OK," Sean said. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," she said, anticipating what he'd say, and not minding a bit.

"Get naked," he said.

"OK," she said, gleefully unzipping her tight white dress and dropping it to the ground. She then kicked off her high heels. Without underwear, she was now naked. She turned around for Sean, while everyone else clapped and cheered for her. "How do I look?" she asked with a grin, delighted to display her nudity to him for the first time.

"Divine," he panted, looking up and down in disbelief at her beauty and getting a hard-on. A neighbour was getting video of Camilla on his cell-phone camera; she psychically sensed this, and of course didn't mind.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, sitting back down. "Truth or dare?"

"Uh, truth," he said nervously.

"Are you a virgin?" she asked, psychically already knowing the answer.

Looking away and blushing, he softly said, "Yes."

"Aww," everyone said together.

"How sweet," Camilla said in adoration, caressing his cheeks as if he were her son. "My little baby." She kissed him on the forehead, as she would have kissed Eros.

"Truth or dare?" Ron asked Mercedes, a new stripper at Club Ritz.

"Dare," Mercedes said.

"Eat Camilla's pussy," Ron said.

Smirking, Mercedes squatted between Camilla's legs and started licking. Sean watched in awe, and his hard-on started pushing up through his dress. Camilla let out high-pitched sighs of pleasure.

"Truth...or dare?" Mercedes asked Ron between licks. 

"Truth," Ron said.

"Who...do you...wanna fuck...most of all...here today?" she asked, now sucking on Camilla's labia.

Ron got up and leered aggressively at his choice of male flesh. "Sean!" he shouted with lewd enthusiasm. Everyone laughed, oohed and aahed, and Sean's face went red.

"Don't...be shy, sweetie," Camilla said in sighs. "Oh! Gay is fun. Look at me. Ah! I'll bet...you'd like it, too. Oh!" Mercedes was sucking on Camilla's hard clitoris now.

"Truth or dare?" another stripper asked one of Ron's gay friends.

"Dare," the gay said.

"Unzip your pants and jerk off in front of Sean," she said.

"Gladly!" he said, whipping his uncircumcised cock out immediately and standing before blushing Sean, who was as aroused as he was nervous. 

Though Sean felt it would be rude to look away from the man's cock, and his cock was fascinating the gay side of Sean's bisexual nature, he still was much more drawn to the lesbian spectacle beside him. Camilla's squeals were turning into screams as she approached orgasm. The neighbour getting video of her was annoyed that he couldn't get up close enough to get all the juicy details. Finally, Camilla came in Mercedes' mouth: Mercedes was licking the come off her lips after Camilla's last gushing. 

When Ron's gay friend was about to come, he was merciful enough not to splash his load all over Sean's face, however much he wanted to; instead, Ron motioned for the masturbator to go over to him and come in his mouth. Ron sucked on his gay friend's cock for a few seconds, then he swallowed all his friend's come. Camilla watched with a smile on her face, as did the most stimulated Sean. 

The game continued, getting wilder and wilder. Finally, it was Sean's turn again.

"Truth or dare?" Camilla asked him.

"D-dare," he said nervously, not wanting to reveal any more embarrassing truths about himself, but equally dreading the dare.

"Do a striptease in front of Ron," she said. "Get completely naked for him; leave nothing unrevealed."

Everyone cheered, particularly the gay men. Ron just sat and panted in lustful expectation.

Sean reluctantly got up and stood before Ron, swaying his hips and nervously unzipping his dress. Camilla licked her lips as she watched the boy slowly titillate Ron, his most ardent admirer. Though the boy had slight bisexual tendencies, he decidedly preferred girls, and an initiation into gay sex was something he wasn't sure he was ready for just yet. At the same time, he enjoyed the attention he was getting, having never got much of that kind of attention before. 

His dress dropped to the wooden floor of the patio, and he was standing in a white padded bra and matching panties. He took off his high heels, then removed the bra. At last, the panties were about to come off. He stood facing Ron, who was impatient to see the boy's penis again. It was particularly appetizing to see, for the erection was poking a bulge in his panties. 

"Come on, baby," Ron grunted. "Let's have another look at that beauty!"

"Don't be shy, sweetie," Camilla said. "We've all seen it many times before." 

"Really?" Sean asked. "Even the strippers?"

"Oh, yeah," Mercedes said. "We've all seen the play. I've seen it three times. You have the cutest penis ever. Let's see it again. Don't be shy."

"Oh, OK," Sean said, pulling down the panties. His erect cock bounced up and down when the elastic of the panties rebounded off his knob. Everyone cheered and clapped. The neighbour who'd been getting video of the scene, not being close enough to hear what the partying people were saying, had thought Sean was a girl, and went away in homophobic disgust to see he was a guy. 

Now that Sean was frontally nude in front of panting Ron, he just stood there and did nothing. Ron was touching the boy's legs.

"Come on, sweetie," Camilla said. "Let him see everything. That was the dare."

"I already have," Sean said, his voice cracking again. Ron was fondling the boy's buttocks. 

"No, you haven't," Camilla corrected. "Turn around and bend over. Let him see what he wants to put his cock in."

"D-do I have to?" Sean stuttered. Ron had opened Sean's buttocks, and was now fingering his anus. 

"Yes," she insisted. "It's part of the dare. Your asshole is your vagina, you know."

Sean timidly turned around, bent over, and spread his legs. Ron was rubbing one hand on his crotch at the sight of Sean's tight little virgin asshole, and the other hand stroked Sean's penis. Sean looked back at Ron fearfully, hoping Ron wouldn't touch any more boldly than he already was. At the same time, a small part of him wanted Ron to touch boldly...and do a lot more bold things with him. Ron never took his eyes off that pretty little hairless brown hole, the one Camilla had done a psychic epilation on the preceding October. 

"Sit on my lap, sweetie," Ron told Sean. "i want you to know how much I like you." Sean sat on Ron's hard-on, and Ron continued feeling the boy up. 

Camilla just loved watching Sean's submission. Getting Sean to indulge her gay friends was so much easier than getting Allen, Joey, or Chris to: they had all needed Camilla's mind controlling powers to make them do that. 

Everyone then walked back into the house and upstairs to Camilla's bedroom. She and Sean were still completely naked, except for their heavy makeup. It was obvious what he was hoping to get from her. 

"Um, Camilla, are we gonna...?" he tried to ask.

"Are we gonna have sex?" she said. He shyly nodded. "Yes, we are: all of us."

"All of us?" he asked.

"Yep," she said. "Not you and me, though: we'll do that another time, when you've proven to me that you're worthy of having me. For now, you're having other lovers."

"Oh?" he asked, hoping for the female strippers. "Who?" 

"You know who," she said with a wicked smirk. Ron stood before Sean with a wicked smirk of his own.

"Oh, uh..." Sean stammered.

"Do you want to be worthy of having a goddess in your bed?" she asked him.

"Of course," he said. "But I'm not sure if I'm ready to..."

"To have me, you must first do something for me," she said, tickling his chin. "It will please me hugely if you do it. You do want to please me, don't you?"

"Absolutely," he said, with another crack in his tremulous voice. "But..."

"Then let Ron fuck you," she said. "And we all get to watch." One of Ron's friends took a video camcorder out of his gym bag. 

"You're filming this?" Sean said in near terror. "Uh, I dunno..."

"You wanna lose your virginity, right?" Camilla asked.

"Yeah, but with a girl," he said.

"If you're good, you will," she said. "But first, you must give up your masculinity for me."

"Oh, gee, I--"

"Give up your manhood for the Goddess, then you'll have Her," Camilla insisted. "It's the only way you'll ever get in bed with me."

Knowing how unlucky he'd always been with women, and sick and tired of being a virgin, Sean saw this extreme situation as, indeed, the only way he'd ever get to make it with a beautiful woman. He got on the floor on all fours, reluctantly displaying his asshole, and Ron got some anal lube from Camilla. Camilla sat on the bed and watched, breathing heavily in anticipation, and fingering herself.

Ron lubed the boy's rectum thoroughly, then his cock. Camilla leaned forward on the bed to get a better look. Ron's friend, the one who'd masturbated in front of Sean, pointed the camera at Sean's ass and pressed record. Ron's other two gay friends were kissing on the bed and watching as Ron pushed the tip of his cock against Sean's anal orifice. 

"This is going to be SO good!" Camilla grunted, licking her lips and masturbating even more aggressively. The other strippers were watching in fascination as Ron slowly slid his cock inside Sean's ass, taking away the boy's manhood.

Ron slid his cock in deeper, getting half-way inside the boy's rectum. Sean moaned softly, partly in fear and partly in excitement at the stimulation of his prostate. 

"Squeal like a pig," one of Camilla's stripper friends said with a snicker.

"Don't be mean," Camilla said, even though she was enjoying the boy's erotic humiliation much more. 

Ron's cock slid all the way inside, and Sean groaned loudly from how his anus was now a vagina. Camilla had succeeded in her transformation of him into a girl with a penis, and her slippery, wet pussy was ready to gush. Mercedes kneeled between Camilla's legs and put her face up against Camilla's muff. Camilla received Mercedes' licks while watching the slow death of the boy's masculinity, the same way Mary Postgate relished the sight of the slow death of the German aviator. Camilla came in Mercedes' mouth the same way Mary had apparently orgasmed.

Ron hadn't orgasmed, though; he pulled his cock out of Sean's asshole, figuring he'd widened it enough. "Come around this way, Sean," he said. "I wanna put it in your pretty mouth, now."

"OK," Sean said, in a state of complete submission. 

"You're gonna do some prayin' for me, boy," that other stripper said, "and you better pray good." 

"Come on," Camilla chided. "This is hard enough for Sean as it is." Still, Camilla was the one enjoying the boy's feminization the most by far, apart from Ron, of course. 

Sean acquiescently took Ron's cock in his mouth, looking up into the eyes of the man who'd taken his manhood. Sean sucked on Ron's cock as best as he could, but without any experience, he naturally wasn't very good at it. Camilla used her psychic powers to improve the boy's technique. She mimed sucking Ron's cock as she concentrated, briefly closing her eyes to focus her psychic powers better. When she'd sent her energy over to Sean, she saw him now sucking away as expertly as she could. Ron found himself now enjoying the blow-job much better, moaning and sighing his appreciation at Sean's new-found talent. 

Mercedes continued licking Camilla's pussy, and everyone else watched the gay blow-job with fascination. Even the two gays on the bed were ass-fucking while facing Ron and Sean, so they could see the whole show.

Finally, orgasms were imminent all around. Ron, about to blow, pulled his cock out of Sean's mouth and rained his come all over the boy's face. At the very first blast of Ron's ejaculation, Camilla gushed into Mercedes' mouth. The gay man with the camera had been jerking off the whole time he was filming the gay fucking. 

Sean sat there with Ron's come dripping off his face; though he was afraid, he was enjoying the sex. 

The other gay men noticed the lascivious smile on Sean's face, and decided to take advantage of the moment. The gay at the camera went up to still-kneeling Sean, while Ron, now spent, took over the camera duties. The gays on the bed stopped their ass-fuck, got off the bed, and got in line behind the former cameraman. 

Sean took that gay's cock in his mouth and starting blowing. The two gay men, not wanting to lose their erections, jerked off behind the gay getting blown. When he was about to blow, the other two got around Sean in a circle, jerking off over his face. Sean swallowed the first gay man's come, then received bukkake from the other two gays. Camilla watched with her eyes and mouth agape, coming again in Mercedes' mouth.

Sean went into the washroom and washed his face; then he returned to Camilla's bedroom, sat on Ron's lap, and felt his first lover's arms protectively embrace him. Camilla was touched at the sight of the two gays. 

Finally, she looked at her bedside clock and noticed the time--6:20 PM! She had to get everyone out of her house before her sweet, innocent son saw any of this debauchery. Camilla had no intention of her boy ever becoming anywhere near as sexually twisted as she was, so she had to hurry. 

"Sorry, guys," she said in a panic. "You all gotta go now. My son and nanny are gonna be here, and I don't want them to see any of our naughtiness."

"Why not use your psychic powers to slow them down?" Ron asked. "Things are just starting to get interesting."

"I don't want my boy out after dark," Camilla insisted. "Sorry to rush you, but you have to leave now."

"OK," Ron said. Everyone got dressed as quickly as possible, Sean rushing out to the backyard to get his dress and shoes. He quickly got dressed.




Camilla Ch. 092



When everyone was just going out the door, Emily and Eros were coming in. 

"Hi," Emily said to all the guests walking out the door.

"Bye," Mercedes said. "What a cute kid." She caressed Eros' cheek, then left.

When there were only Emily, Eros, and Camilla in the house, Camilla had come downstairs in a T-shirt and jeans. 

"So, did you all have a good time?" Emily asked.

"Fantastic," Camilla said. "And how was my little boy?" She looked down lovingly at Eros. "Did you have fun shopping?"

"OK," he said, psychically sensing the intense pleasure his mommy had just had, but not at all understanding its lewd nature. Again, he had that vague feeling of jealousy. "What you do?"

"Oh, I played an adult game with my friends," Camilla said, caressing his cheek.

"Can I play game with you?" he asked.

"Not that game," she said firmly. "Never." He pouted at her answer. 

*******************

Two weeks and several more productions of Hosanna later, 'Goth' Camilla, at home, called Sean on her cell-phone late one night.

"Hello?" Sean said on his cell-phone.

"Hi, sweetie," she said. "How's the cutest little actor in the world?"

"Oh, OK, I guess," he said. She psychically sensed a depression in him. 

"Wanna come over?" 

"Will Ron and his friends be there?"

"Nope. It'll be just you and me."

"Good," he said, feeling much better. "I can be there in about thirty minutes, if you let me dress in guys' clothes."

"Oh, I like you so much better in girls' clothes," she said. "Can you be ready in an hour?"

"Oh, OK," he said. They hung up.

He arrived about fifty minutes later in a dark red dress, black high heels, and dark makeup. She, in her original blonde hair, blue eyes, and peach-coloured skin, opened the door and let him in.

"You look beautiful," she said. She was wearing her black evening gown. 

"Thanks," he said shyly. "So do you."

"Thank you," she said as they started going up the stairs. "Eros and Emily are in a deep sleep. I've psychically blocked out any sound, so they can't hear anything; but if we get too wild, or talk about my boy too much, sometimes he wakes up and wants me. So we have to be a little careful." They went into her bedroom.

"OK," Sean said. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm going to test your devotion to me," she said. "If you pass all the tests, you'll be rewarded in a way that will make you not regret anything you've done with me so far." They sat on the bed together.

"Really?" he said skeptically. "Actually, I've been wanting to talk to you about some things. All the stuff you've had me do: it feels kinda humiliating. Getting naked in front of people. Wearing women's clothes, even when I'm not playing Hosanna. Making me admit my virginity. Making me only a passive partner in gay sex. Getting video of it, and posting it online." He started sobbing. "So many people know: I don't feel like a man anymore."

"Oh, sweetie," she said, hugging him as a mother would hug her son. "Don't be ashamed of being a feminine boy; I like you that way. You don't need to be all macho and masculine. I needed to feminize you to help you really get into the role of Hosanna. I wanted you to understand the gender confusion a drag queen will feel. And I needed you to experience gay sex to understand, as an actor, what it is to be a gay trannie. It's Method acting. Because of your dedication to the role, your performances have been amazing." 

He continued crying. "I know, but..." He sensed that what she had just said was just rationalizations, for the Nigrovum-spiked come he'd drunk on the day he met her had given him some vague psychic insight into her real reasons for humiliating him. "i'm also worried: those gay men never wore condoms; what if I get AIDS from all that sex with them?"

"You won't," she assured him. "Come with me." They got up, walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. 

"How do you know I won't?"

"Because my powers can kill the HIV virus," she said, unzipping her dress and dropping on the floor. She then kicked off her high heels and stood naked before him. "I've done it before. So can you. That come of mine that I made you drink on the day I met you, remember? It had some of the source of my powers. You now have those powers, too. If you caught anything from Ron or his friends, all you'll have to do is visualize the virus dying, and it will die within seconds. Just focus and imagine it disintegrating. That's what I do. Take off your clothes."

"I'd like to believe you," he said, unzipping his dress at the back and dropping it on the floor. "But are your powers really that unlimited?" He then removed his pink bra and panties, and his high heels. Now he was as naked as she.

"Pretty much," she said. "You've seen some of the stuff I can do: changing my hair, eye, and skin colour; my mind controlling powers; my quick healing. You'll develop those powers soon, too. Just start using them. Trust me: you'll be fine. Now, get into the bath tub."

"OK," he said, getting in. "Do you want to bathe me?"

"Later," she said. "First I'm gonna baptize you, in the name of the Goddess. LIe on the bottom on your back."

He lay on his back, and she squatted down over his chest. "How are you going to 'baptize' me?"

"The best way a goddess can. With a golden shower."

This titillated him. He grinned as her yellow water came pouring down from her urethra onto his chest and splashing off it. She moaned her relief, and he started to get an erection. She moved up as she continued pissing on him, now spraying on his neck and face. He was loving it. She dripped out her last few drops, then got up. 

She looked down at the smiling boy. "You seem to have enjoyed that." 

"I did," he said, getting up. "Now what are we going to do?"

"Well, you've passed your penultimate test of devotion tonight, as you've passed so many others before." She got out of the tub and sat on the toilet. "Now for your last test."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, starting to get out of the tub.

"No, sweetie, don't get out of the tub," she said, farting and dropping a few turds into the toilet water. "I don't want you to drip my pee on the floor. Just stay in there and...well, react to what I'm doing." She shat a few more turds.

"OK," he said, disliking the smell, but knowing that if he flinched, she would feel insulted. Besides, he was so enthralled by her that he figured a goddess like her deserved to be worshipped even in her dirtiest moments. 

She finished her shit, got up, and gave him a roll of toilet paper. She turned around with her ass to his face, gave him the roll, then got on the floor on all fours, spreading her legs and pushing out her ass so her muddy asshole was in plain view. "Wipe me clean, sweetie."

"OK," he said, and began wiping her asshole. 

She looked back at him and smiled at his self-abasing devotion. She knew he didn't like the smell, but she appreciated that he was respectful enough of her to keep his dislike to himself. When he was finished wiping, he tossed the used toilet paper into the toilet. She flushed it.

"Very good," she said, getting up. "Now we'll clean each other in the shower." She got into the shower stall with him, and they washed each other thoroughly. He especially enjoyed putting his soapy fingers deep inside her pussy and asshole. She also washed the makeup off his face; he was relieved about that. They kept the water away from her face, though: she wanted her whore-bright makeup to stay on. They rinsed each other, got out, and dried each other off. Then she took him back into the bedroom.

She lay on the bed on her back, and brought her spread-out legs up high over her head so he could see her pussy and asshole. "Lick my holes," she said.

"Gladly, Goddess," he said, diving in. His tongue eagerly danced all over her vulva, licking and sucking on her clitoris and labia. He slid his finger inside her asshole, and pushed his tongue as deep inside her vagina as he could get it. She sighed her thanks. Then his tongue and finger switched places. He was clumsy with his finger, so she psychically guided it to tickle her G-spot in just the way she liked it. His tongue enjoyed the wrinkled texture of her anus. 

His cock was rock hard, and her pussy was slippery wet. "OK," she sighed. "You've been a good boy. You're worthy of having me. Come up here and put your cock in my pussy."

"Finally!" he said, getting up on the bed and aiming his cock for her cunt. "Good-bye, virginity, and good riddance."

"Sweetie," she said as he pressed the tip of his cock against her vaginal orifice. "You lost...oh! your virginity...back with Ron. Ah!" Sean had pushed his cock in about three inches so far.

"But that...was just...anal virginity," he panted as he pushed in an inch or so further. "Unh!"

"It's still...a loss...of virginity. Oh!" He was all the way in now. She was delighted at the firmness and stamina of a young cock. She never needed to use Nigrovum to keep her boys hard, as she'd often needed to do with her older lovers.

"But this...loss of virginity...is more manly. Oh!" He was thrusting aggressively, but clumsily. He was hurting her insides a bit. Now she needed to use Nigrovum to make his fucking more pleasurable for her, and less spastic. She closed her eyes, and imagined Mr. Grisham's virtuosic cock probing her. Within seconds, Sean was fucking as skillfully as her old English teacher once did. 

She screamed in whistle register, and soaked his cock and balls with her come. He wasn't finished yet, though. He kept thrusting away, and every ten or twenty seconds of additional screwing, she came again. He felt his sexual self-confidence soaring: he felt he'd gone from a zero to a hero; he naively didn't know that her coming was really just her own insatiable nymphomania. Still, she allowed him to enjoy his ego boost: his devotion made him deserving of it.

Finally, he was about to come, and she could psychically feel it. "OK," she said. "Pull it out." He pulled his cock out of her pussy. She got up on her knees on the bed. "Stand up." He did.

She jerked him off while keeping his cock pointed at her wide-open mouth. Using Nigrovum to make sure he didn't miss, she made his ejaculation shoot in thin, strong lines right into her mouth. She swallowed it all, not missing a drop. He got down on the bed and lay beside her. They cuddled as they regained their breath.

"Congratulations," she said. "You're now a priest of the Goddess. In fact, you're the best priest I've had so far. Don't feel ashamed of your feminine side: I think it's beautiful, and it's my love that matters, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said. "You're right, Goddess."

"How will you be voting in future elections?"

"I plan to vote Liberal," he said. "Why?"

She looked into his eyes, locking his gaze on hers. "The Green Party is the party of the Goddess, our Mother Earth. You'll vote Green Party, always." 

"I'll vote Green Party, always," he repeated obediently.

Eros had woken up to the psychic sensation of his mother's passion. He lay awake in bed. "Mommy play fun game," he jealously mumbled to himself. "I want play fun game, too."

***************

37-year-old Camilla finally came out of her out-of-body vision, back from sixteen years before to her humiliating present, in the aquarium in Montreal. The night of the fourth day of her ordeal had come. She felt the invisible cocks of four of her old high school teachers probing her. 

Mr. Fulson's was in her mouth; Mr. Matotek's was between her tits; Mr. Rudolph's was in her come-spouting pussy; and Mr. Phillips's huge cock was stretching her asshole out as wide as it had ever been. Lechers' cell-phone cameras were still getting video of this incredible, unending event. 

You killed us, Matotek's spirit mentally told her. You made us all crazy for sex.

After you graduated, Fulson psychically said, I lusted after other students of mine. Then I got caught, and lost my job. I killed myself. It's all your fault, you whore.

That thing in your blood, Rudolph added. It made us all sex addicts.

You knew all about it, Phillips told her in her mind, and you didn't even try to warn us. You selfish bitch.

***************

In a house on the other side of Montreal, some masked men were discussing Camilla, as well as--in part--controlling what was happening to her.

"What if she allows herself to die?" one masked man asked the leader of the group.

"We'll shatter the glass of the water tank anyway," the leader said. "Her friends won't be strong enough to stop it; they'll be too busy trying to rescue her in the other world, as futile as that will be."

"But if she dies sooner, there won't be as much Nigrovum in the water as you'd planned," another masked man said. "The people watching won't have as strong an addiction to desire."

"She'll stay alive long enough, I assure you," the leader said. "As long as she doesn't know what's happening to her son, she'll keep herself alive."

"But she does know what happened to him," a third masked man said.

"She knows what happened to him in this world," the leader corrected.



Camilla Ch. 093



The fifth day of 37-year-old Camilla's ordeal in the Montreal aquarium had come, with her receiving of gang-bangs from the spirits of former lovers going on unabated. The ghost of a boy she'd met during a vacation in Bali was pumping her pussy, and Mercedes' spirit had her invisible cunt in Camilla's face. Those getting video of the hovering naked girl were as fascinated with her flickering tongue as they were with her gaping pussy.

Camilla no longer wished to communicate with the spirits of Don, Agape, or Candice, or with Dr. Singh in Vancouver; she felt that it was pointless even debating her giving up her physical life. However hopeless her situation was, being psychically controlled by the masked men, she imagined she had a better hope of eventually being released, and of being allowed to leave the public aquarium to resume her work as an English professor in McGill University, than of being rescued from the hellish realms of the afterlife.

Singh and the spirits of her friends were now even more worried about her, now that they couldn't even communicate with her. They saw her, as it were, unconscious automaton of a body being gang-raped by demons, floating in mid-air over the tank of water that continued to be filed with her come, piss, and occasionally, her shit--hers was a living death. They could save her only with her cooperation, and she'd refused them that.

What can we do? Dr. Singh psychically communicated from Vancouver. I want to help her so much, but she won't let me.

My poor baby girl, Agape added. She's only making this harder.

When she has those out-of-body visions of memories, she blocks us out completely, Candice said. We can't talk to her at all. She can't and won't hear us.

When she finishes seeing whatever memory she's reliving now, we should take firm control and make her listen, Don said. I still think we should tell her about Eros. She'll want to leave this world then.

No! Agape insisted. Eros may never be released, but if she knows what happened to him, she'll try to get him, and then she'll be truly trapped forever, because she won't get him out.

Eros feels so guilty about what he did with his mother, he'll want to be punished forever, Candice added. He won't come out with her, even if she can help him out. He won't help himself.

The time will eventually come when we have enough power to save her son, Singh said. But that won't be for a long time yet. The masked men are now a formidable army. They are legion; they are many. Evil always seems to arise in great numbers, while the good are few. We are that few, though I am finding more and more people to help us.

Who are they? Candice asked.

I specialize in treating sexually transmitted diseases, as you already know, Singh explained. I quickly learned about the healing powers of Nigrovum, but I also learned about its dangers at a very early time. Nigrovum brought us all down to a perilous low point before we turned things around and saved ourselves.

I went from a man of God to a lecher, Don confessed.

I was tricked into committing incest with Camilla, Agape said.

I became a junkie, Candice said. And in the hellish areas, I came to hate the girl I'd fallen in love with. How could that have happened?

I literally came down low, Singh added. I treat STDs, and I had sex with Camilla without a condom. I would have received Nigrovum even wearing the most effective of condoms, but I had gone against my own principles as a doctor. In my carnal thoughts, I had a foot fetish; and after enjoying sex with Camilla twice, I sought prostitutes to satisfy my fetish. One of them gave me gonorrhoea: my shame outweighed the physical pain. Then I remembered how quickly I could heal a cut with the aid of Nigrovum, and I wondered if I could apply that power to STDs. I imagined myself completely cured, without any burning sensation or discharge when urinating, and after a minute or so of deep concentration, I could actually feel the infection disintegrate. I went to urinate immediately, and felt no pain at all! Nor was there any discharge from my penis. I was cured!

I resolved to resist all lustful feelings, and focus on my Hindu faith. I could soon feel the same energy that had expanded my sexual feelings to an obsessive addiction now expanding my love of the spiritual; I went from a fetish of the feet to a love of the head, the mind, and the heart. I went from the hell of the ouroboros' tail to the heaven of its head.

Nigrovum can indeed be used for good, Agape said.

Yes, Singh continued. And I have used our psychic gifts to search for people all over the world who are suffering from or dying of AIDS, for Nigrovum can cure that, too. I gave an AIDS patient of mine some of my blood; it cured him, but he went back to a life of sexual excess, even worse than his previous promiscuity. I'd tried to warn him to restrain himself, but he wouldn't listen. He died of the madness that resulted from his lechery. Now I am more careful: I scan the minds of all those pitiful AIDS patients around the world, making sure their hearts are pure.

How do you make sure of that? Don asked.

As I scan their minds, I ask them, 'If you were cured of AIDS today, what would you do?' Singh answered. Some answer that they would resume a life of seeking out sex; others tell me they would want to help other unfortunate people in some way. I then psychically coordinate a chain of events, bringing these better people from places like Africa, southeast Asia, America, and Canada to my clinic. Then I give them a shot of my blood (Nigrovum making it automatically unnecessary to worry about correct blood types), and tell them to think about wanting to be cured, concentrating and focusing as hard as they can. Their immune systems become fully functional again, usually within a minute of visualizing it.

Miraculous! Don said.

Yes, Singh said. And in exchange for my saving of their lives, they have all pledged to use Nigrovum's power to help us save Camilla. I have over a dozen people now, and I'm still finding more.

Great, Candice said. Thank you, Ravinder.

It's my pleasure, Candice. I'm happy to help Camilla, Singh said. She was kind to me many years ago, when I first knew her.

How? Agape asked.

Camilla, Candice, and I used to live in the same apartment building in Vancouver, Singh said. Some of the neighbours' kids in our building and in the surrounding neighbourhood had racist attitudes toward Indians; they used to make fun of me and my accent. Camilla took compassion on me and scolded those kids; she angrily demanded that they treat me with respect. I was touched by her kindness.

There is good in her, Agape proudly said of his daughter. Deep down, under all that naked skin she's so lewdly displayed.

There is, absolutely, Singh said, and I want to reawaken it in her; but she won't let us. She is so afraid of being trapped in hell forever, and yet she's in hell now!

Hell is empty, Don added, and all the devils are here!

She can't escape this aquarium any more easily than she could the hellish areas, Candice said.

But she won't think about all those people out there in the viewing area, watching her, and getting video of her, in that idiotic trance they're in, Agape said. We don't know for sure how much longer we can psychically keep the glass of the water tank from breaking.

A few weeks, maybe? Don guessed. A month or two?

And she keeps coming, peeing, and sometimes even crapping in the water, Candice said. The masked men are determined to make the tank overflow, and flood everyone.

Passing Nigrovum on to all of them, Singh said. A Nigrovum saturated with Camilla's lustful energy. Infecting them.

Making them all out-of-control horny, Candice said.

Making them all slaves to passion, Don said.

Making them all like stupid, unthinking animals, Agape said. Easily controlled and exploited by the growing, global 'Green Party'.

They'll spread her lewd Nigrovum energy to other people around the world, Singh said. The masked men will control everyone and everything.

And when they die, the masked men will rule over everyone in the hellish part of the other world, Candice said. Those bastards' plan is perfect. We can't stop them.

But the masked men need Camilla, Don said, because her lust is stronger than anybody else's. If we can get her out of this world before she packs this water tank with too much of her Nigrovum-infected bodily fluids, the passion she spreads onto all those people watching her from down there won't be irreversibly strong. There lies our hope.

But Camilla's still afraid to die, and she won't let us persuade her, Agape said. She fears only her life, not anyone else's. She must learn the value of sacrifice, now more than ever. How can we get through to her if she won't listen?

*********************

While all this worrying was going on between Singh and the spirits of Camilla's loved ones at the Montreal aquarium, Camilla was reliving a memory fifteen years before, when she was 22 years old back in Toronto, during the summer following her graduation from York University.

One afternoon, she was walking along Yonge Street with 3-year-old Eros. She had her original blonde hair, blue eyes, and peach-coloured skin. Wearing a revealing red dress that went down half-way between her hips and knees, and showing off a generous amount of cleavage, she also had her usual harlot makeup, with dark red lipstick, and high heels.

Sometimes the summer breeze blew up her dress, and Eros would eye her pink panties with an obsessive curiosity.

"Eros!" she chided gently. "Nice boys don't look up their mommies' dresses."

"Sorry," he said, looking down to the ground in shame.

Just then, Ted Weinstein came out of a restaurant and saw her. "Camilla!" he said. "Hi! What a pleasant surprise this is. How are you?" (Actually, he felt her coming, and emerged, as it were, on cue.)

"Oh, I'm fine," she said. "Thanks again for coming to see our play."

"Hosanna?" he said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Hey, now that you have your BA, you must be looking for work."

"How'd you know I just graduated?" she asked.

"Oh, simple math," he said, deftly covering up how he and other masked men had been secretly watching her over the course of her undergraduate years. "I met you four years ago, when you were starting university, remember? Anyway, would you like me to help you get a job at the CBC?"

"Uh, thanks, but no," she said. "I'll be going for an MA, then ultimately a PhD. I wanna be an English professor, like my daddy used to be."

"Really? Wow." Ted looked down at Eros. "And who's this little guy?"

"He's my son, Eros. Say 'hi' to the nice man, sweetie."

Eros hid his face between her legs. She covered his eyes so he wouldn't look up her dress again.

"He's a shy one, isn't he?" Ted said.

"Yeah," she said. "Well, we gotta go. Thanks for the offer, and it was good seeing you again."

"OK. If you change your mind, just let me know. You have my phone number still, right?"

"Yeah, no problem."

"Oh, and one more thing."

"What's that?" she asked.

Ted looked deeply into her eyes, and said, "Mayor Van Duyne will be running for Ontario premier next year, for the Green Party. Next year, you will vote for Garth Van Duyne."

"Next year, I will vote for Garth Van Duyne," she repeated, having completely forgotten, in her submission to Ted's mind controlling powers, that she'd once slept with Garth, and thought she'd killed him, knowing then that he was one of the masked men.

"Vote Green Party," Ted said.

"Vote Green Party," she said, then walked away with Eros.

*******************

A week later, Camilla left Eros with Emily; for Camilla got on a plane with Mercedes, and they went to Bali for a two-week vacation. The girls found a bungalow that was a short walk to Kuta Beach. They settled in, and 'Goth' Camilla changed back to her original blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look. Then she and Mercedes changed into string bikinis, and headed out to the beach.

On their way, they walked along Legian Street. They passed by a bar called 'Paddy's: Reloaded'.

Mercedes looked at the bar's sign. "Why 'Reloaded'?" she asked.

"Because the original bar was destroyed in a terrorist attack about fourteen years ago," a cute, thin, blond Australian boy said.

"Oh my God," Camilla said. "Terrorists are such bastards. Killing people who were just having a good time. How can people be so inhuman?" She and Mercedes continued walking towards the beach.

About ten minutes later, the girls had found a place to sunbathe on the beach. Camilla was delighted to see some topless women sunbathing nearby; so she decided to follow their example, and dropped her bikini top on the large towel she'd laid out on the sand. Mercedes, however, kept her large breasts covered.

"Go topless, Mercedes," Camilla said, lying on her back on her towel. "It's not like you've never shown 'em off before."

"No way," Mercedes said, lying beside her. "If guys are gonna see my tits, they're gonna pay me."

"Whatever," Camilla said, pulling down her bikini bottoms.

"Whoa, girl," Mercedes said. "You may not be allowed to go completely nude here."

"That's OK," naked Camilla said. "NIgrovum will allow me." Camilla closed her eyes and visualized an invisible force field protecting her from aggressive oglers, and making all disapproving people blind to her nudity. In about ten seconds, the psychic barrier was set, and all men who liked what they saw found themselves inexplicably unable to get any closer than ten feet from her.

Camilla did, however, allow one young man to get close to her: the cute blond Australian who'd told her about the terrorist attack. In fact, she'd sent a psychic signal to him, drawing him to where she and Mercedes were. He'd been walking along on Legian Street, trying to meet up with a friend, when he felt this strange urge to turn the other way and go over to the beach. He arrived, standing before Camilla, five minutes after she'd gotten nude.

So this is what my instincts were leading me to, he thought as he looked in amazement at Camilla's nude perfection. Good instincts.

Camilla looked up and saw him standing there. "Hi!" she said. "You're the boy we met at the 'Paddy's: Reloaded' bar. You told us about the terrorists there."

"Oh, uh, yeah," he said shyly, trying to be polite and look only at her face. "Hi."

"Come sit with us," she said. "Tell us what happened."

"You mean, th-the bombing in 2002?" he asked, sitting by her feet. He hoped she wouldn't notice the erection bulging out of his swimming trunks, but she, of course, was well aware of it, and was delighted.

"Yeah. Fourteen years ago, eh? Wow, I was just a little kid when it happened. I never followed the news in those days." She opened her legs so he could see her pink pussy.

"Well, I was about four then," he said, "and my uncle was one of the victims. He was real close to one of the car bombs when it blew, and it ripped his body to pieces."

"Oh, my God," Mercedes said.

"The bastards," Camilla said. "Muslims, right?"

"Of course," he said. "I mean, extremist Muslims."

"Is there such a thing as a moderate Muslim?" Camilla asked.

"Well, I suppose so," he said, fighting the temptation to sneak a peek at her snatch, but with little success, for she was making it so easy to look. "M-most of the Muslims I've seen in Java seem nice."

"I think I like the Balinese better. Here, they're Hindus. Hindus sometimes worship goddesses, like Kali and Lakshmi. I think it's better to worship goddesses than violent, war-like gods like Allah. That's what my profs always told me back in university. Goddesses promote peace and non-violence."

"Not always," he said. "I've read about human sacrifices given to Hindu goddesses like Kali and Chamunda."

"Well, I dunno about that," Camilla said, widening her legs and turning her head away to encourage him to look at her pussy. "But whenever I think about Muslims, I think of terrorism, violence against women, homophobia, and oh, God!--covering a woman's whole body up in a veil. It takes all her power away from her."

"Not n-necessarily," he said, sneaking a look at her cunt.

"How so?" she asked, turning around, getting on all fours, and showing off her pussy and asshole as she got some suntan lotion out of her purse.

"Well, the p-purpose of covering up a woman completely like that is t-to protect her from men l-leering at her, or r-raping her with their eyes."

"To protect her, or to repress her?" She was still showing off her pussy and asshole.

"Well, I g-guess it could go both ways."

"Look at my body," Camilla boldly said as she looked back at him, still with her ass pointed out and her two holes in plain view. "Do you think I need protection?"

"Oddly, n-no."

"For a boy who's family's been victimized by Muslims, you sure like defending them." She lay on her back again, with her legs spread out; she began putting the suntan lotion on her arms.

Confused by a psychic urge compelling him to stay and chat with her, and embarrassed by his erection, he then said, "Sorry, I h-hate to go, but--"

"I know you don't want to go," she said, putting lotion on her chest and stomach.

"I gotta meet someone. He's waiting for me--I'm ten minutes late."

"OK, sweetie," she said, psychically releasing him. "Will I see you at 'Paddy's: Reloaded' tonight?"

"Y-yeah, absolutely," he said, getting up and covering up his hard-on with his hands.

"Bye," Camilla said, looking deep into his eyes. "Vote Green Party."

"Vote Green Party," he repeated back. "Bye." He ran off.

"He's a cutie," she said. "

"He's geeky," Mercedes said. "But you're right. He is cute."

*****************

Later that day, Camilla and Mercedes had left the beach and gone shopping along the main street. Camilla went into a clothing store, bought a colourful sarong, and wrapped it around her hips.

After leaving the store, the girls saw that young man again. "Hi!" Camilla said to him.

"Oh, hi," he said shyly, mesmerized by her divine beauty.

"I never got your name, sweetie. I'm Camilla. This is Mercedes."

"I'm Russell," he said, shaking the girls' hands.




Camilla Ch. 093



"We're going back to our bungalow. Come with us," she said.

"OK," he said, following them. "And if you don't mind my saying so, you're really beautiful."

"I don't think I mind," she said, smirking at him.

*****************

As soon as they all went into the girls' room, Camilla took off her sarong and flip-flops, and then her bikini, right in front of him. He put his hands over his growing erection, and began breathing heavily.

"You don't have any hang-ups, do you?" he asked.

"I'm a stripper back in Canada," she said. "And you're not seeing anything you haven't already seen; I figure you don't mind."

"No," he said, giggling shyly.

She went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet, leaving the door wide open. "Mercedes wants to change, and she's a little shy." Camilla began peeing. "Come in here and talk to me while she's changing."

"OK," he said, going into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

"So what do you do, Russell?" she asked, keeping her legs wide open so he could see the golden line pouring out from her urethra into the toilet bowl water.

"Oh, I'll be starting my f-first university year in the fall," he said, now getting bolder with his looking, since she obviously didn't mind.

She finished her pee and reached for the toilet paper. "What will you be studying?"

"Economics," he said. "What about you?"

"I'll be starting graduate studies in the fall," she said, wiping her pussy dry. "I wanna be a professor of English literature." She got up and flushed the toilet.

"Wow."

"Yeah, but I'm all stinky now." She went over to the shower area. "Wanna help me take a shower?"

"I'd love to," he panted.

She turned on the water and lathered up the soap. After getting some of the lather on her chest and arms, she gave him the bar of soap. "Wash my back," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, lathering up the soap and getting it on her back.

She cleaned her pussy, then her legs. "Clean my bum, please," she said. He lathered up her buttocks, but was too shy to clean her anus. As she was cleaning her feet, she asked, "Baby, why didn't you clean my poo-hole?"

"Oh, do you want me to?"

"Of course, sweetie. I don't wanna be stinky there."

"OK," he said. She spread her legs out so he could see her asshole, and he gently rubbed the lather against her anal orifice. He then rinsed it off. "OK, you're done."

"No, I'm not," she said. "You didn't clean inside."

"Oh, OK," he said, and slowly slid his finger inside her rectum. He gently rubbed his soaped-up finger against all her rectal walls, thoroughly cleaning her.

Looking back at him upside down from between her legs, she said, "That's quite a penis you have there."

He looked down at his bulging erection and blushed. "D-do you wanna see?"

"Not right now, sweetie," she said, straightening up after he'd rinsed the soap away from her asshole. "One naked person is enough for now. We'll see what you have in there later on tonight, OK?"

"Oh, OK. Not now?"

"No. Mercedes and I are gonna have a nap. We were so excited about being in Bali that we didn't bother sleeping when we got here; but now we're tired." (She and Mercedes had used Nigrovum to give them energy so they could satisfy their curiosity about Bali before sleeping off jet lag.) She dried herself off with a towel, then opened the bathroom door. Seeing that Mercedes was in bed, Camilla came out of the bathroom, followed by Russell.

"OK, so I guess it's good-bye until tonight?" he asked.

"Yep," Camilla said. "You're a very nice boy. I like how you've kept your control while I've been naked before you. You'll be rewarded for that. Before you go, check me for any spots we didn't clean." She bent over with her legs spread out wide, showing off her pussy and asshole.

"Oh, OK," he said, bending over and getting a good, close-up look. She put her hands on her pink pussy and beige asshole, widening them so he could see better. Amazed at the beauty he was seeing, he felt his hard cock poking out of his shorts, perpendicular to his torso.

"Do I look OK?" she asked, looking back at him upside-down from between her legs.

"Oh, I'd say a lot better than OK," he panted.

Giggling, she then asked, "Are you sure the veil protects Muslim women? Are you sure a woman, all covered up, has power?"

"No, not really," Russell stammered.

Mercedes was finding it difficult to sleep with all their chatting. "OK, honey, we wanna have a nap now," she said. "We'll see you at the 'Reloaded' place. Bye."

"Oh, uh, bye," he said, walking out the door, and still covering up the bulge in his shorts.

"Bye," Camilla said, standing nude before the wide-open door and not minding it a bit. She closed the door, then got in bed beside Mercedes.

*********************

That night, Russell went to 'Paddy's: Reloaded', and saw Camilla and Mercedes dirty dancing and lezzie kissing on the dance floor. Lots of men were watching them, smiling, but didn't understand why they couldn't get very close to them. Russell was able to go up to them, for Camilla's force field wasn't made to affect him. Now all three of them were dirty dancing together.

As they continued dancing, Camilla saw some Indonesian men walking by, outside the bar, on the sidewalk, with veiled women. Frowning, she stopped dancing, and started walking off the dance floor.

"Hey, Camilla," Mercedes said. "Where you going?"

"I'm a little tired," Camilla said. "I'm gonna sit it out for a while. You two continue dancing. I'll be back in a bit."

"OK," Mercedes said, and continued dirty dancing with Russell.

Camilla saw a few more Indonesians walking by, including veiled women. Muslim bastards, she thought, shaking with fear. I'll bet they've got a car bomb or something waiting for us. What if one of those men detonates the bombs with a cell-phone? I've gotta stop them. Even if they're innocent, you can't be too sure. Besides, if the men die, their women won't be bullied by them anymore.

She closed her eyes and, remembering a scene from Scanners, an old David Cronenberg movie she'd once seen, she visualized a small fire burning in each Muslim man's head. Within seconds, the men started feeling strange, and they put their hands on their heads. Their wives looked at them, worried.

Camilla visualized those fires growing inside the men's heads. The men felt a horrible burning sensation in their brains, and they were squirming and groaning in pain. Their wives kept asking them what was wrong, but the only answer they got was their husbands' moaning and groaning.

A few seconds later, the men's heads suddenly exploded, with a loud booming sound that even the bar music couldn't drown out. Blood sprayed all over their wives and the surrounding area. The wives screamed, helplessly watching their headless husbands' bloody bodies fall on the ground. Everyone in the bar looked out and saw the carnage, then joined the widows in screaming and panicking.

Staying cool, Camilla went over to Mercedes and Russell, who hadn't got close enough to know what had happened, and took them by the hands. "Let's go back to the bungalow," she told them.

"What happened?" Russell said as the three of them went out to the sidewalk. Mercedes gasped at all the blood, as did Russell.

"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and blood for blood," Camilla said to them, psychically distracting them from the gory scene, and luring them back to the bungalow. "Everything that goes around, comes around." Looking back at the widows she'd just made, Camilla thought, You're free, ladies; once again, we see Nigrovum being used for good.

As Camilla, Mercedes, and Russell headed back to the bungalow, they ran into some Balinese drag queen prostitutes, all of whom aggressively groped at Russell.

"I'd love to let you have him," Camilla said to the drag queens, "but he's ours tonight." They continued trying to grab Russell, reaching for his balls.

"Look, I'm not gay," he said fearfully. "Don't!"

Camilla used her power to 'push' them back, then she, Russell, and Mercedes were able to get away from them.

"How'd we get them off us like that?" he asked.

"I have special powers," Camilla explained. "I'm a goddess."

"Oh, really?" he said with skepticism.

"Can you explain why you, on your way to meet your friend, felt a sudden urge to meet me at the beach?" she asked. "Do you have an alternative explanation?"

"No," he said, still wondering why, indeed, he was lured away from meeting with his friend that afternoon. "You sure are beautiful enough to be a real goddess."

"I'm glad you see things that way. Then just accept my explanation," Camilla said as they got to the door of their room. Mercedes got out the key and unlocked the door. They all went in the room. "OK, sweetie, get naked for us. Let's see that penis you wanted to show us this afternoon."

"Oh, OK," he said shyly. The girls got on their beds and watched him pull down his shorts and underwear, exposing his erection. They giggled to see it bounce up and down after his underwear's elastic snapped against his knob. Then he took off his T-shirt, shoes, and socks. He was now naked.

"What a cute body you have," Camilla said with a grin. "OK, I guess it's our turn now." She, and now finally Mercedes, started taking their clothes off in front of Russell. Camilla was still with her original blonde looks; and Mercedes, a brunette, revealed her naturally large breasts, with their small, pointy nipples, and a small tuft of brown pubic hair. Her skinny body had light, coffee-coloured skin that made Russell's mouth water.

"Do you like what you see?" Mercedes asked him.

"Like it? I love it!" he panted.

"Come get on the bed, sweetie," Camilla told him. "Lie on your back."

He did as he was told, then Camilla sat on his face. Mercedes sat by his crotch and played with his cock.

When Camilla was at the bar, she'd used the toilet to take a shit; so, with her pussy and ass on his face, she slightly smelled of piss and shit. Fancying herself a goddess, she expected him to tolerate the smell. Indeed, he was so hot for her that he was gladly willing to put up with the smell, for it was her smell. She sensed how he felt, and was glad to have his devotion.

Mercedes got on top of him, lowering her pussy down on his cock. He was licking Camilla's pussy and asshole as he felt his cock slowly slide into Mercedes' wet cunt. As Camilla felt his tongue flickering all over her labia, vaginal orifice, clitoris, and anus, she moaned, and chanted, "Vote Green Party."

"Vote Green Party," Russell repeated between licks, as did Mercedes between sighs.

"You'll be...a banker," Camilla chanted between squeals.

"I'll be...a banker," Russell repeated between licks, sucks, and kisses.

"Make money...for the...Green Party," Camilla said. "Oh!"

"Make money...for the...Green Party," Russell said.

Normally Russell came rather soon during sex; but Camilla, psychically sensing this, prolonged his erection so Mercedes could enjoy it longer. Indeed, she came twice, and Camilla came once, flooding his face. Then the girls switched places.

Camilla aimed his cock under her wet, descending pussy, and Mercedes sat on his face. Mercedes smelled a bit of pee, but her asshole was as clean as if she'd never shat once in her life. It was also a very pretty, hairless asshole, and he slid his tongue a half-centimetre inside it, gluttonously licking it. Then he sucked on Mercedes's labia and clitoris while Camilla bounced on his cock.

Still controlling his erection, she kept him hard without letting him ejaculate. She, on the other hand, came three times; her come was a lake all over his thighs and the bed. Not wanting to mess things up any more, and feeling that their pleasure was more important than his, Camilla psychically caused his penis to go limp, and she and Mercedes went to lie together in the other bed. Russell would have to sleep in a puddle of come if he was to stay the night with those beautiful girls. Adoring them, and hoping for more sex in the morning, he decided he'd be glad to sleep in their come. In fact, he even drank some of it as he lay there, waiting to go to sleep.

"Vote Green Party...vote Green Party," he softly chanted as he slowly fell asleep.

Camilla and Mercedes were chanting the same thing as they fell asleep, for indeed, there were Australian masked men in Bali, totally aware of Camilla's presence. In fact, they were in the room next door to the girls' bungalow, doing a small ritual that controlled everything in the girls' room.

*******************

In the Montreal aquarium, on the night of the fifth day of her ordeal, 37-year-old Camilla briefly came out of her out-of-body memory vision of her Bali vacation, to find herself being gang-banged by the spirits of lovers she'd had back in Vancouver.

Mr. Finch had his invisible cock in her mouth, Carl was fucking her pussy, Bob, her old photographer, was fucking her ass, and Mr. Patterson had his invisible cock between her tits.

My wife left me because of you, Finch communicated bitterly as she sucked his invisible cock. The despair weighed down on me so much, I killed myself. It's all your fault, you whore.

My lust also flew out of control because of you, you bitch, Carl mentally told her, his invisible cock pumping in and out of her gaping, come-spewing pussy. I raped my own sister. Remember Belle? I was as traumatized as she was--we both killed ourselves.

No longer able to endure any more blaming, Camilla closed her eyes and let her consciousness float away into another memory of a happier time.

Camilla! Don's spirit called out to her. Don't go!

She was already gone.



Camilla Ch. 094



On the sixth day of Camilla's ongoing nightmare in the Montreal aquarium, her naked body was hovering over the fouled water tank in what seemed a state of unconsciousness. The news cameras and lechers, always getting video of her endless gang-bangs from spirits, were wondering why she had been a particularly long time not waking up this time. 

"She isn't dead, is she?" one man on the upper ledge asked while recording her on his cell-phone camera.

"Nah, she couldn't be dead," another man beside him answered while switching to a new cell-phone, since his previous phone had just run out of memory. "She's still spouting come out of her pussy...see?"

Indeed, a big wad of come had just spewed out at that time. 

"The naked woman hovering over the water has been positively identified as Dr. Camilla Mennon-Fox, a 37-year-old professor of English literature at McGill University, and widow of Dr. Cameron Fox, a former English professor there," said a female on-the-spot reporter for CBC's The National. "Why this is happening to her we still don't know: what power is holding her up? Is she being gang-raped by ghosts, as certain conspiracy theorists claim, of no-longer-living members of the Green Party? Why is no one doing anything about it? Why can't anyone do anything? Is she going to die? Will she ever be released? These are all unanswered questions."

"How a 37-year-old woman has the body of a 25-year-old is what I'd like to know," said a forty-something woman watching from the viewing area below.

How Camilla's pitifully small number of friends plan to stop us is what I'd like to know, thought a man in a black suit, standing next to the woman. (His mask was in his car.) They're hopelessly outnumbered.

When she's going to wake up is what we'd like to know, thought the spirits of Don, Agape, and Candice. All three of them, as well as Dr. Singh and his helpers in Vancouver (the ones he'd used Nigrovum on to cure them of their AIDS), were still using their psychic powers to keep the glass of the water tank from breaking, and to disintegrate as much of Camilla's come, piss, and shit in the water as they could. The masked men were keeping those disintegrations to a minimum, of course. 

The spirits of Clara, Mercedes, a lesbian waitress at Club Ritz, and a young man Camilla had seduced were enjoying her body at the time. Mercedes' invisible pussy was in Camilla's face, and Camilla's tongue and lips were hard at work, moving automatically in spite of her mind's being elsewhere. The boy's invisible cock was between her tits, and his invisible hands were squeezing them aggressively against his cock. Clara's invisible tongue was all over Camilla's pussy, flickering against her flapping labia. The waitress's invisible tongue was digging its way inside Camilla's gaping asshole. 

*************

Of course, the state of unconsciousness that Camilla was in was really just her having another vision of a memory. Fourteen years before the aquarium incident, 23-year-old Camilla was sitting on the sofa in the living room of her house in Toronto, with 4-year-old Eros on her lap. It was a Saturday afternoon in early August. She, in her black-haired, black-eyed, pale 'Goth' look, was cuddling with her son and watching the news on TV. 

She was wearing heavy makeup and perfume, and a tight, white dress that was unbuttoned at the top, showing off a lot of bra-less cleavage. Eros felt the temptation to look down her dress and see her breasts, and she psychically sensed his urges, even though he'd never looked.

"Nice boys don't look down their mommies' dresses, sweetie," she told him.

"Sorry," he said.

On The National, there was a story about Garth Van Duyne, who'd finished his term as Toronto mayor, and was now running for Ontario premier, for the Green Party. She stared at theTV screen with no less dazed a facial expression than those people would fourteen years later in the viewing area of the Montreal aquarium, looking up at her through the glass of the water tank. 

"What do you have to say to all the conspiracy theorists out there, who claim that a secretive, unscrupulous elite is secretly making not only the Green Party here in Canada, but also the Greens in countries all over the world, so surprisingly successful in recent years?" a female reporter asked Garth.

He chuckled, then said, "Oh, them? I'm not aware that many people even listen to them. I know very little about the ideas of the conspiracy theorists, and I keep up with current events all the time. I have to, as a man in public office. If I don't read much about the conspiracies, it's probably because they don't deserve to be taken seriously. To their propagators I say, 'Your ideas are fantasies. People want to know the truth instead.'"

"And what is the truth?" she asked him. 

"The truth is that the Green Party is quickly growing here and everywhere else, because more and more people are waking up to the truth that we all must help our Mother Earth. The forests, the air, and the oceans are all being ravaged and poisoned for profit, and the people are getting sick of it. They know that we're the answer to this problem, for only our plan for extensive government intervention will solve the problem. This is the answer: vote Green Party."

Camilla heard a voice whisper 'Vote Green Party' in her ear. She repeated those three words, in a by-now-typical monotone. 

*************

That night, Camilla had left Eros with Emily to go stripping in Club Ritz. 

An eighteen-year-old boy with blond hair and blue eyes came into the bar and looked around. He saw naked Camilla giving an older man a table dance in a corner of the bar; the young man sat at a table several tables away from where she was, but he was close enough to see all her delicious anatomy.

She'd psychically changed herself back to her original blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look before coming to work. She was bent over with her legs spread out wide; from where he was sitting, the boy could see her brown asshole and purple pussy, and his dick was already hard.

She'd finished the table dance and got paid. Then she put on a tight-fitting blue sling bikini and left the older man. As she was walking away from the table, she saw the boy wave to her to come over to him. She went up to his table, and as soon as she saw his cute, boyish face up close, she was as charmed with him as he was with her. 

"Hi, sweetie," she said in her uninhibited 'Kitty' persona, psychically sensing that that persona would be the right one to use on him. She sat on the sofa opposite his. "My name's Camilla. What's your name?"

"Danny," he said shyly.

"Nice to meet you, Danny," she said, shaking his hand. "You have beautiful eyes, sweetie."

"Thank you," he said bashfully, turning his head away.

"Oh, he's so shy. My little baby." She caressed his cheek in a maternal way. His dick got harder. 

The song that was playing was about to end, and Camilla, anticipating the next song, got up, put her knees on Danny's sofa right at his crotch, and pushed them against his hard-on. She then unclipped her bikini. It flew off her body and onto the floor; the naked woman removed her high heels and leaned forward so his face was now between her large breasts. That new song, however, didn't begin to play. 

"Sorry, everybody," the DJ announced. "We're having some technical difficulties." Camilla quickly turned her head to the left to look over at the DJ booth, and her right breast slapped against Danny's left cheek. "Please be patient, and wait a minute."

A waitress came over to take Danny's order, and she ogled Camilla's body. "What d'you want, honey?" she asked him.

Camilla quickly turned to the right to see the waitress, and her left tit slapped against Danny's right cheek. The waitress smiled as her eyes went up and down Camilla's curves, and Camilla smiled in flattery back at her.

"Well?" the waitress snapped at Danny. "What's your drink gonna be?"

"Oh, uh, a Long Island Iced Tea," he panted, trying to say the words with Camilla's nipple in his mouth.

"I'll have a Jim Beam and Coke, Vera," Camilla said, remembering Agape's old drink. "Buy it for me, sweetie," she told him.

"OK," he said, then Vera left to get their drinks.

Camilla turned back to look down at Danny, and her right breast slapped against his left cheek again. She took his hands and put them on her hips, moving them up and down along her sides. 'Kitty's' total lack of inhibition about her nudity amazed him as much as it excited him. 

Finally, a song started to play, and the DJ apologized again. "Wow, lucky you," Camilla said to Danny. "You had me here naked for free that whole time."

"Yeah," he panted, moving his hands up and down the sides of her torso.

She began her table dance with a thorough rubbing of her breasts against his face. She put her tongue in his right ear, pushing it deep inside, then letting it slither around the hole. Her saliva went in, and with it, a touch of Nigrovum. She gently nibbled on his earlobe, blew softly in his earhole, then let her tongue slide along his right cheek towards his nose. She adored the boy's pretty face so much that she wanted to taste it. She went over to his left ear, and licked, nibbled on, and blew in it the same way she had the right. Again, her tongue came out of his left ear and slid along his left cheek to his nose, against which she then rubbed her nose. 

Stupefied, he gazed at her up-close, smiling face. Her blue eyes had an absolute hold over his. Though she had no makeup on, her natural beauty made cosmetics unnecessary.

She took his hands off her hips and put them between his knees, with the fingers curled up. She pushed her breasts against his chest and slowly slid down between his legs, deliberately allowing his fingers to touch her vulva and pubic hair. All the time as she went down, her approving eyes stayed locked on his. When she knelt down on the floor between his legs, she'd allowed his hands to touch her breasts. She moved her chest around a bit so his hands could get a better feel. 

Now on the floor, she spread her legs out wide and pushed her ass out; her asshole and pussy were in clear view to anyone looking from behind. Indeed, a man sitting on the sofa behind Camilla turned around and got a good look at both of her holes, as did Vera, who was coming back with Camilla's and Danny's drinks. Camilla, always lewdly looking up in Danny's eyes, was gently nibbling on the bulge in his pants. 

Vera put their drinks on the table between the sofas, then bent down and whispered in Camilla's right ear, "You're so hot, even your asshole's pretty."

"Thank you, Vera," Camilla said with a smile. Danny paid Vera, and she left.

Camila got up and sat on the couch opposite Danny's, and spread her legs so he could see her pussy. With her fingers, she opened her labia out wide. She looked in his eyes with a calm smile, the same Mona Lisa look that had mesmerized Father Josiah five years before. The shy boy couldn't understand how she could be so confident, always naked before all those strangers.

She stood up and turned around so he could see her buttocks. She swayed them around, her anal cleft just a few centimetres from his face; then she bent over and spread her legs out wide. He stared in awe at her asshole and pussy, still only an inch or two from his face, and displayed perfectly, with absolutely no embarrassment on her face. Indeed, she looked back at him upside down from between her legs, just calmly smiling and curious about his reaction. 

She giggled in flattery at his agape eyes and mouth, then she put her arm between her legs and reached over to him, her fingers tickling him under the chin. "Wow," she said. "You sure like what you see."

"Yeah," he chuckled timidly.

"Wanna come closer?" she asked.

"How much c-closer?"

"I'll say when; but beware--I'm a little stinky."

He came closer and smelled the faecal odour of her asshole, as well as the pee smell from her pussy. Normally, he wouldn't like the former smell; but because he already adored her divine beauty, he was more than accepting of the smell--after all, it was her smell.

He noticed a small, brown bump on her asshole; it was at two o'clock from the orifice. He didn't know if it was a beauty mark or a spot of shit; he didn't care, for he was happy to know every wrinkly detail about her pretty anus, the anus she wasn't at all shy about showing. 

With his nose now just a few millimetres away from her asshole, and his mouth just as close to her pussy, he felt her fingers tickle him under the chin again. She just giggled at the dopey look on his face. He couldn't believe how permissive she was being with him. Did she like him?

She felt his breathing on her holes, and appreciated his acceptance of her natural smells. "You are so sweet," she said, still bent over. "Just so you know, I'm all stinky and without makeup because the man I just table danced before you likes me that way. He has a coprophilia fetish, if you can believe it. He likes me to smell natural, all natural. To him, stinky is the new fragrant."

"I'm open to that, if it's your stinky," Danny said, still sniffing her butt.

"Thank you," she said, still bent over. "I've known quite a few guys who are into my stink: it's weird, but I appreciate their devotion to my divinity. My dirty sides should be appreciated." She then began to move her ass down, and her anus brushed against his nose. "Oops!" His cock got even harder. She pushed her buttocks against his chest as she slowly went down, and she took his hands and put them on his lap, with the fingers of each hand pointing in, touching those of the other. She sat on his lap, then, holding him by the wrists, slowly pulled his hands out to each side, causing his fingers to touch her anus and his hands to slide along her buttocks. With his hands out of the way, now she did some grinding on his pointy hard-on. "Mmm. That's a long, thick penis you have, sweetie."

"Uh, this is...just a...table dance, right?" he groaned.

"Mm-hmm," she said, still rubbing her ass on his dick. "If you want more intense fun, we have to go into a private room, and it costs more. It's up to you." 

The song ended, and she, still on his pointy lap, reached over to get her drink. He got his, and they took a few sips. 

"Can I have another table dance?" he asked after putting his drink back on the table.

'Sure," she said, putting her drink back.

He had several more table dances, with her stimulating him in the same wild ways. Finally, by the end of the fifth table dance, she'd finished her drink.

"Can I have another table dance?" he asked.

"Oh, baby, I gotta pee," she said urgently.

"Please?" he begged, getting turned on from watching her squirm in desperation. "The last one?"

"OK," she said, "but you have to buy me another drink."

"Deal," he said, thrilled to have her indulge his urolagnia.

She started dancing for him, often squirming and groaning from needing to pee. She could have used Nigrovum to get rid of the discomfort, but she knew he was enjoying it, and she wanted to seduce him, and make him a new 'priest' of hers. 

When Vera had come to give them their drinks, Camilla had her knees between his legs, pushed up against his hard cock, and her tits were in his face again. Vera put the drinks on the table, then patted and caressed Camilla's buttocks. Camilla turned her head quickly to the right to see Vera, and Camilla's left tit brushed against Danny's right cheek. The girls smiled at each other as Vera walked away. 

Towards the end of the song, Camilla was bent over again, showing him her asshole and pussy. Sensing his urolagnia, she allowed a small squirt of piss to drip out on his hand. The Nigrovum in her piss went inside him through his pores. 

"Oops!" she said, though slightly relieved.

"That's OK," he said. "I kinda have a fetish for that."

The song ended, and Camilla said, "Quick, pay me. I gotta go pee." Danny gave her the money as fast as he could. "Wanna watch me pee?"

"Oh, yeah," he panted. 

"OK, come on," she said, grabbing him by the arm with one hand. "Get my purse." He did, then she led him to one of the private rooms. As they were rushing there, he noticed little drops of her piss dribbling onto the floor. He was getting turned on all the more.

They went in, and Danny looked in amazement to see not only couches, but also a built-in shower and toilet. She didn't go sit on the toilet, though: she went to the shower instead. 

"Hurry up," she said, squatting over the drain. "You're gonna miss it; I'm not holding it in any longer." He rushed over to her and squatted, facing her. "Ahh!" He looked down and watched in fascination as her piss poured out in a golden line from her urethra down into the drain. He tried to sniff in as much of the odour as he could. Finishing, she squirted out a few last bits, then got up.

He was still squatting, so he had her pubic hair and urine smell an inch or two from his face now. He sniffed away, and she stayed there so he could enjoy it.

"Now I'm really stinky, as you can tell," she said, still without the slightest embarrassment. He looked up at her in pagan adoration. Making him my priest is going to be easy, she thought. "I wanna get clean; wanna rub the soap all over my body?"

"I'd love to," he said, standing up.

She turned on the shower water, and he started lathering up the soap. She raised her arms up over her head and said, "Start with my pits, please." He soaped up her armpits, then her breasts--very thoroughly, then her abdomen and pubic hair. "OK, baby, now get down and clean my legs and feet."

"OK," he panted, squatting and lathering her legs. She smirked at the sight of the bulge in his pants. He was especially thorough in cleaning her feet: getting soap between each toe and carefully cleaning each nail, which she'd psychically changed back to its original transparent look. Seeing the fetishistic adoration and attention to detail he was giving in cleaning her feet so well, she just looked down at him and smiled. 

Devotion to the Goddess, she thought. I like that. Then she squatted down with her legs wide open. "Clean my pussy, please," she said." He soaped up her vulva, thoroughly cleaning her hard clit, wet vaginal and urethral openings, and swollen labia. "Clean inside," she sighed. "Oh!"

"How far in?" he asked.

"All the way, of course. I'm getting horny," she said as his soapy index finger went in, brushing against her G-spot. "Ah!" He pushed his finger all the way in, gently poking at her A-spot. After thoroughly cleaning all her vaginal walls and taking his finger out, he saw come spew out of her pussy in a glorious arc. "Oh!"

"Incredible," he panted, watching her come go down the drain.

"Sweetie, you made me come!" she sighed with an ear-to-ear grin. "Thank you!" She kissed him on the cheek. "OK," she said, getting up and turning around so her ass was in his face. "Clean my bum now."

He soaped up her buttocks all over, going all around her anal cleft, but not touching her anus, whose smell he oddly found himself liking.




Camilla Ch. 094



"Baby, you haven't cleaned my anus yet," she said, bending over and spreading her legs so he could see. "Clean away the poo-smell, please; put your fingers all the way in."

"OK," he said, then lathered up his index finger and gently pushed it in all the way. She was moaning the whole time. After leaving not one spot on her rectal walls unsoaped, he pulled his finger out and cleaned every wrinkle on her gaping anus.

He rinsed her off, then towelled her dry.

"Want some lap dances, angel?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't think I have any more money," he said.

"That's OK," she said, leading him to the couches. "You made me orgasm, so I wanna give you some pleasure now. Besides, I like you: you're unbelievably cute."

"Thank you," he said shyly, sitting on a couch.

"My pleasure," she said, sitting on him and facing him. A new song began. "You can touch me everywhere, sweetie. Nowhere's off-limits."

"Really?" he asked, putting his hands on her ass.

"Yeah. You've already touched everything. I'll let you touch it all again. Don't worry, I won't get angry if you touch me in a naughty place. That's why I wanted you to clean me, so you won't get stinky fingers, and get the stink all over my skin."

She massaged the bulge in his pants as his fingers crawled into her anal cleft, searching for her asshole. He started gently fingering it, and she moaned softly, enjoying his sensitive touch. Then she reached forward and and put her tongue in his mouth, to kiss her thanks for his anal masturbating of her. As they French-kissed, more Nigrovum in her saliva went into his body. His finger gently pushed inside her anus. 

She wrapped her lips around his lower lip, pulled on it, and let go, making it slap back to his face. Then she started licking him, her tongue sliding up along his cheeks, then up from his lower lip to his nose More of her Nigrovum-flavoured saliva went through the pores of his skin.

His hands roamed all over her body, feeling her tits, pinching her nipples, and fingering her pussy, inside and out. She put each tit in his mouth and had him suck on them both like a baby. She even lactated: more Nigrovum got inside him.

"I'm breastfeeding you," she sighed, getting horny from his lips tugging on her nipple, and his tongue tickling it. "You're Mommy's little baby. Oh!"

He pulled a bit and let go of her nipple, watching it bounce back and her breast wiggle. "Yeah," he said. "You taste sweet."

"I was wondering," she asked, getting up and turning around. "Are you a virgin?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, frowning and looking away in embarrassment.

"Oh, Mommy's little angel," she said, opening her buttocks and showing him her asshole. "Wanna put your face in?"

"Yeah," he moaned, smiling again and putting his face between her freshly-cleaned butt-cheeks. He passionately kissed her anus, then gave her many pecks up and down her anal cleft before she closed her buttocks around his face, letting him enjoy her buttocks' softness. The song ended. 

"I gotta pee again," she said, getting up and going over to the toilet. He went over and watched her sit on and pee in the toilet. She opened her legs so he could clearly see her piss pour down into the toilet bowl, and she looked up into his eyes without any embarrassment; he could never cease to be amazed at her limitless confidence. She reached over and pulled off some toilet paper. "You like watching girls pee, don't you?"

'"Yeah," he said, watching the last few squirts of pee come out of her hole. 

"I thought so," she said, wiping her pussy dry and always looking up at him. She got up and flushed the toilet.

"I'm gonna have to go," he said. "My parents are probably wondering where I am."

"That's a good little boy," she said, pinching his cheeks as if she were his mom. "Do you love your mommy?"

"Yeah, of course." He looked away.

Sensing something wrong in his family, she asked, "When your mommy tells you to do something, do you obey her?"

"Yeah, i have to."

Camilla knew something was wrong, but she decided not to interfere...yet. "OK, well I guess you have to go."

"Uh, can I sniff you down there one more time?"

"Sure," she said. He squatted down and sniffed her muff. "You like the smell of my pee-pee?"

"If it's your pee, yes, definitely." He kept sniffing, greedily.

"You're so sweet; a perfect devotee of the Goddess."

"You are a goddess."

"That's right, baby."

Staying naked, she followed him outside. Standing out by the front doors of Club Ritz, on the busy sidewalk, she'd psychically put up a barrier to protect her from oglers and gropers. Any police passing by wouldn't be able to see her.

The Nigrovum she'd passed on to him made him vaguely aware of her power, yet unable to know what it was exactly.

"I'm really impressed with your lack of inhibitions," he said. "You have no hang-ups."

"Well, I do have some hang-downs," she said, looking down at her tits.

"They don't hang down too much," he said, ogling them. "They're nice and firm."

"Thank you," she said with a calm smile; its calmness was all the stranger with all the people staring at her naked body, frustrated that they couldn't get up close. "Men like my body, so I let them see it."

"You're not afraid of what people will think? Of what people might do?"

"I'm flattered at what people will think, and excited by what people might do. I look good naked, so I show it off."

"You're amazing," he panted.

"I'm a goddess."

"You sure are."

"If you're really good, I'll give you blessings. Baby, stay a virgin for me: I want to deflower you one day. For now, though, stay pure and innocent. I like you that way."

"OK."

"Wanna feel me up one more time?" she asked, opening up her arms for a hug.

"Sure," he said, then they hugged. He felt her ass, opening her buttocks.

"Yeah, baby. Masturbate my anus again. I like the way you touch me."

"OK," he said, fingering her asshole, tickling her clitoris, and gently squeezing her tits. She moaned her thanks. 

She turned around, held his head in her hands, then looked him in the eyes and said, "You'll vote for Garth Van Duyne."

"I'll vote for Garth Van Duyne," the erstwhile Conservative Party supporter repeated, robot-like.

"You'll vote Green Party, always."

"I'll vote Green Party, always."

"Bye, sweetie," she said, touching his hard-on again and giving it a light squeeze. "Mmm. I love your big penis. Come here for more table dances, OK? Bring a lot of money."

"I'll bring a lot of money," he said, then left. 

She removed the psychic barrier, then went back inside the strip joint, followed by a number of her male oglers on the sidewalk.

*****************

A week later, Danny returned to Club Ritz, and Camilla was going onstage to do her floorshow. With her original blonde look again, she was now heavily made up, and wearing high heels and a glittery gold dress with slits up the sides to show off her legs. It was low-cut at the front and back, showing off both kinds of cleavage. 

Her first song was Buster Poindexter's cover version of 'Hot, Hot, Hot'. She walked around the stage shaking her tits to the rhythm of the music. When she saw Danny come and sit at the tip rail, she had her back to him; she spread her legs out wide, bent over, and showed him her asshole. 

During her third song, she was crawling around naked on the stage, displaying her pussy and asshole for him with her usual 'Kitty' lack of inhibition. 

Her floorshow ended, and she left the stage naked, taking only her purse. She went with Danny to a table and they sat together.

"How are you, angel?" she asked him.

"Oh, great," he said. "You were amazing on stage."

"Thanks. Would you like a lot of table dances here, or a few lap-dances in a private room?"

"Oh, let's just do 'em here. I wanna have your beautiful body for as long as I can." She giggled. 

A new song soon began, and Camilla started giving Danny table dances that were as indulgent and permissive as they had been his first time with her. She was rubbing her tits in his face, putting her tongue in his ears, and licking his face. She generously showed off her pussy and asshole as usual, and frequently rubbed her buttocks against his hard-on, so eager was she to feel the length and thickness of it bulging out and poking against her wet vulva. 

On the first of such occasions, she leaned back against his chest as her ass massaged his cock; she put her right arm around him, looked back at him, and sighed, "There's my...favourite virgin...penis again." 

Then she got up, bent over, and spread her legs again, this time showing off an immaculately clean pussy and asshole, right up close to his face. She looked back at him upside-down from between her legs, always curious to see how he was enjoying what she was showing him. Giggling at the smile on his face, she reached back between her legs and tickled him under the chin with her index and long fingers. She noticed a curious look in his eyes.

"See something different, sweetie?" she asked in her 'Kitty' voice.

"Oh," he said, squinting and looking more carefully. "It's just that your asshole--"

"Danny!" she, still bent over, gently chided. "Nice boys don't say bad words."

"Sorry. Your anus--"

"That's better."

"Last time, I noticed your anus had a little bump on it. The bump is gone now."

"Oh? Where exactly? Touch me on the spot where you saw it." She opened her ass out wide so he could see better.

"Really? It's OK if I touch you out here?"

"Well, the management only allows customers to touch us in the private rooms, but I'll let you touch me here. You already know my body better than I do; only your penis doesn't know me...yet. Feel away."

"OK." He touched the spot where the bump had been, at two o'clock from her anal orifice. "No bump."

Still bent over and looking back at him from between her legs, she said, "Hmm. Must've been a bit of poo. Which do you think looks prettier, sweetie? My anus then, or now?"

"Oh, I can't decide, Camilla. It was beautiful then, in its own way, and it's lovely now, in its own way."

"You're so sweet. Thank you, baby. You wanna put your penis in here, don't you?" She opened her asshole wider for his hungry eyes. 

"Oh, yeah!" he grunted, bending forward and bringing his face closer--something she, of course, permitted.

"Well, you'll have to be really good before I let you put that great big thing in my anus," she said, always bent over and showing off her asshole to motivate that goodness in him. 

"Let me prove myself, Goddess."

"Oh, you'll get your chance--later." She tickled him under the chin. 

The song ended, and she stayed bent over for him during the brief silence between songs. A new song began.

He sniffed her butt. "You're clean tonight," he said.

"Oh, yeah," she said. "Vera, the waitress who served us drinks last week, has the hots for me. Sometimes I let her clean me. She's been trying to get me in bed with her for a few years now. I like to tease her, but sometimes I'm merciful, as when I let her bathe me."

"If you don't mind my asking, have you ever received anal before?"

"Oh, sure, lots of times. I enjoy it."

"Really? Wow." He kept looking and sniffing.

"Yeah. Get a good look at my anus." Still bent over, she spread her ass out even wider for him. "Don't I look used to you?" 

"No, actually. It's too perfect-looking."

"Thanks, sweetie," she said, reaching back again and tickling him under the chin. 

The song that was playing, incidentally, was Van Morrison's 'Brown-eyed Girl.'

*****************

A week later, he went to Club Ritz a third time. It was about 6:10 on a Friday evening, and she came in to start work just after he'd arrived. She, blonde, blue-eyed, and peach-skinned again, was in a tight white T-shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. 

He went up to her. "Hi," he said. "Can I have some table dances?"

"Can I change first?" she, in her 'Kitty' voice, asked with a smirk.

"Actually, if you don't mind, I'd love to see you strip out of what you're wearing now," he said with unusual boldness.

She brought her bust up close to him and put her arm around his neck. With her nose touching his, she looked in his eyes, and in her sultry 'Marilyn' voice, she said, "You want me to take my clothes off in front of you?"

"Yeah," he panted, his dick getting hard.

"OK, let's go," she said, back in her 'Kitty' voice, then took him towards a private room. "But I'm taking these clothes off in there, 'cause I'm not allowed to out here. I could use my power to make the management not notice, but I don't feel like using it today, because I feel a little burned out if I use it too much, as I've been doing lately." They went inside.

He sat on a couch, and she stood before him. A new song began, George Michael's 'Too Funky'. She slowly swayed her hips from side to side, turning around so he could see the ass of her jeans, inches from his face. She turned around to face him again, then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She pulled them down to reveal her light blue lace panties. When she had the jeans down to her feet, she turned around so her bent-over ass would be in his face again. She wiggled her ass as she took off her shoes and socks, brushing her ass against his face; he loved the feeling of the material of her panties caressing his nose. She then straightened up and turned around to face him.

She pulled off her T-shirt and dropped it on his lap. Dancing in her blue underwear, she looked in his eyes and mouthed Anne Bancroft's famous words, 'Would you like me to seduce you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?' He just looked up at her and breathed heavily, rubbing his hand on his crotch. Her T-shirt conveniently covered the embarrassing thing his hand was doing...not that she didn't know, of course.

She took off her bra with a wiggle of her breasts, then dropped the bra on his lap. Finally, she pulled down her panties to reveal her divine nudity to his eager eyes. She turned around, and as her ass came down on his lap, he quickly put theT-shirt and bra aside. She sat on his lap and rubbed her ass on the point there; then she got up and bent over to show him her two holes. 

Looking back at him from between her legs, she asked, "No bump?"

Sniffing her freshly cleaned holes, he said, "Nope. Do I get to be seduced by you tonight?" 

"Nope," she replied, tickling him under the chin. "Patience."

****************

On Saturday afternoon, Danny went to a public swimming pool. Blonde Camilla was there, in her blue sling bikini. Men's eyes were ogling her the whole time, but annoyed that they couldn't get up close to her. She sensed his presence, and allowed him to get through her psychic force field, though pretending she didn't know he had followed her into the deep end of the pool.

When he was immediately behind her in the water, she turned around and acted surprised to see him. "Hi!" she said, hugging him.

"Hi," he said shyly, his hard-on poking against her happy legs. She was resting against the side of the pool.

"How are you?" she asked, unclipping her bikini and letting it fly out in the water behind him. She'd also gotten rid of her psychic barrier.

"Oh, good," he said. "Do you want me to get that?"

"Of course," she said. "I can't get out of here naked, can I?"

"Well, no," he said, getting the bikini. "But don't you have a power that can protect you if you stay naked?" Indeed, he was feeling the power of Nigrovum now, if only to a small extent, and could vaguely sense what she could do. 

"Yeah, but I don't feel like using it now. Sometimes dangerous is sexy." The water went up to her nipples, while the rising and falling waves caused her tits to show sometimes. He came up close to her so only he could see them. 

Still, to be polite, he tried to look only in her eyes.

"Danny, you can look at them if you want," she said. "Don't be shy; I won't get angry. Why do you think I'm all au naturel now?"

"OK," he said, looking down with a slight pout. 

"Are you OK?" she asked. "You seem a little blue today."

"Oh, it's my mother. She yelled at me today."

"About what?"

"I always leave the front door open when she has the air conditioning on. She gets crazy and screams at me for that."

"Gee, that's a good reason to be mean to your son," Camilla said with a sarcastic sneer.

"Yeah," he said. "She's really domineering sometimes. She'll yell at me about the tiniest things. Sometimes I get the feeling she's playing games with my head. When I was a kid, she used to tell me that I'd done an IQ test and scored 63."

"Oh, bullshit! You're much smarter than that."

"Well, yeah. I get good grades in school, and I'm going into university in the fall. I'm studying economics."

"Dummies can't do that. I bet your mom was lying to you." She did a psychic scan of the history of his mother's psychic energy, the way it bounced off him; within a minute or so, she was convinced his mother was lying about the IQ test. "I hate to bad-mouth your mom before meeting her, but I think she's a bitch. I can feel it--psychically. What a terrible thing to say to a child. To make him believe he's less than he really is."

"I know," he said, fighting back sobs.

"Oh, baby," she said, hugging him. "Go ahead and cry, sweetie. You have every right to." Indeed, he began softly crying on her shoulder. 

"I don't think she loves me."

"Frankly, I don't think she loves you, either. I've heard about the kind of thing she seems to be doing to you. Tricking you, making you doubt your perceptions. It's called 'gaslighing'. Making you think you're retarded. What an awful thing to do to your own son. My mom was a real bitch when she was alive, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When she died, I wasn't exactly heartbroken, let me tell you. She yelled at me, called me dirty names, and restricted my freedom. I became a stripper just to spite her. She wanted me to become a lawyer or something, can you believe that?"

"I bet you could do that," Danny said. He'd stopped sobbing.

"Yeah, but I don't want to," she said. "I wanna be an English professor, like my daddy used to be. You know what else I wanna be?"

"What?"

"i wanna be your new mommy, sweetie."

"Huh?"

"Your new mommy. I'll give you all the love she never gave you." She kissed him on the forehead, as she always kissed Eros. "All I ask in return is your devotion."

"Gladly, Goddess." Now he was smiling. 

"Good boy," she said, grinning. Then she put her hands under the water and quickly pulled down his swimming trunks. She giggled as he, blushing, quickly pulled them up again. 

**************

Next Tuesday, Danny was looking around in the Eaton's Centre. He saw blonde Camilla shopping there. 




Camilla Ch. 094



"Hi!" she said. She was in a tight white T-shirt and blue jeans again. 

"Hi," he said. "We're always running into each other. How strange...but great!"

I know, she thought; I always plan it that way. For I control people. They don't control me, as they'd tried to do in a few of my undergraduate classes.

"I'm aching to see you naked again," he groaned. "Would that be OK, 'Mom'?"

"Buy me a new dress, and you can watch me strip in the fitting room,'son'," she said.

"Gladly!" he said, then rushed over to an ATM to withdraw some money.

They went over to Clara's clothing store. Camilla looked through all the dresses, then found a dark blue one that she liked. 

"Hey, baby," she said to Danny. "I like this one. Come with me." She had him go into a fitting room. Clara knew what Camilla wanted to do, but, fancying her, happily allowed her to do it; for she was hoping for another chance to have Camilla flash in front of her. 

Camilla went into the fitting room with Danny. He was sitting on a bench, and she stood before him, slowly dancing to the electronic dance music playing in the store. Off came her T-shirt and down came her jeans, revealing her pink lace underwear. Then she took off her shoes and socks, again bent over so he had the ass of her pink panties in his face. She rubbed her buttocks against his face, and allowed him to nibble briefly on her panties. She pulled her feet through the legs of her jeans and straightened up. 

She took off her bra with the usual wiggle of her tits, dropping her bra in his lap. Then she put her hand in her panties and fingered her wet pussy. She pulled down her panties, pulled her feet through the leg-holes, and stood completely naked before him. 

She turned around and bent over, showing off her asshole and pussy again. He gleefully sniffed, and was not only getting used to her faecal smell...he was enjoying it! He wanted to know everything about her divine body, even the dirty parts. She sensed this, and was delighted with his adoration of her whole body. 

She straightened up and put on the dress: it was a perfect fit. She'd psychically sensed it would fit perfectly before going into the fitting room, and knew that trying the dress on wouldn't be necessary; but of course, she wanted to strip for her priest-to-be. She quickly took off the dress so he could enjoy looking at her naked body some more. 

She opened the door without a care in the world, perfectly content to let anyone in the store, or anyone passing by outside, see her naked. Fortunately for Clara, and the survival of her business, only she saw Camilla's frontal nudity. Clara went up to her.

"Can you ring this up for me, please?" Camilla asked. "The boy's going to pay for it."

"OK," Clara said, ogling Camilla's tits and pubic hair. Wanting to keep looking, and hoping no one else would see, Clara reluctantly walked away to the cash register. 

Then naked Camilla, without any warning, casually walked out of the fitting room. "Sweetie, get my clothes and purse," she told Danny. He quickly grabbed them and rushed out, wanting to cover her as much as Clara did.

"As much as this turns me on, Camilla," Clara said, running back from the cash register to cover Camilla, "I don't wanna get in trouble." 

"OK," Camilla said. "Let's go into the back room and finish things off there." She insouciantly walked over to the door to the back area with Danny, and they went in.

Clara closed up the store and joined them. She saw Camilla lying on her desk, with her legs spread out wide and raised up over her head, showing off her pussy and asshole. 

"Wanna have a taste, Clara?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," Clara sighed, then quickly put her face between Camilla's legs. She licked Camilla's pussy with long, wide inclusive licks, coming into contact with everything from her perineum to her clitoris. 

Sighing her gratitude, Camilla said, "Danny. Come here. Suck my tits. Oh!"

"OK," he said, and wrapped his lips around Camilla's left nipple. She was lactating again, and he loved the taste. 

Clara was now sucking on Camilla's clitoris, squeezing her lips tightly around that hard little rock. Clara's moaning vibrated against Camilla's vulva, increasing her pleasure.

"Ah!" Camilla squealed. "Danny. Finger my...anus. Oh!" He put his left index finger between her buttocks and rubbed it against her anal orifice, pushing it in a half-inch. 

After another minute of licking, sucking, and fingering, Camilla screamed in whistle register and showered her come all over Clara's smiling face. Danny looked over at the lesbian with amazement in his eyes. 

"Thanks, both...of you," Camilla sighed. "I needed that." 

Camilla, slowly catching her breath, got off the desk and put her clothes back on. Danny sniffed her faecal odour on his finger with a smile on his face. They all went back out to the main store, Clara reopened, he paid for the dress, and he and Camilla left. 

"Thanks for the dress, sweetie," she said to him. "I'm going to Club Ritz now. Wanna come?"

"Sorry," he said. "I'd love to, but I can't. My mom needs me to help her with something."

"OK," she said. "Well, I, your real mom, will see you soon. Bye."

"Bye."

******************

The next day, Danny was walking along Yonge Street, and Camilla, in her 'Goth' look, saw him. She was with Mercedes. 

"Danny," Camilla said to him. "Hi! We meet again." She gave him a hug. "Oh, this is Mercedes, another stripper at Club Ritz; Mercedes, this is Danny--my adopted son, if you will."

"Nice to meet you," Danny said to Mercedes, shaking her hand. Having only seen Camilla with her original blonde look, he was more than surprised at how different Camilla now looked, with black hair and eyes, and pale skin. "Did you dye your hair?"

"No," Camilla said. "It just slowly changed. The new look came with my powers. Do you prefer blondes, my cute little gentleman?" She closed her eyes and visualized her original blond hair, blue eyes, and peach skin. In two seconds, she was looking just that way. 

"Wow!" he said, blinking in disbelief at what he'd just seen. "How'd you do that?"

"Im a goddess, I told you," she said.

"Really, that's freaky," he said. "You seem more like a witch or something...uh, a good witch, of course."

"Baby, I have a divine spark in me. So does Mercedes now. We no longer have our period; no PMS. Really, I haven't bought tampons in years! You have the divine power, too, by the way: I gave it to you in my milk, remember? You just have to learn how to use the power. Mommy will teach you. Come here--give Mommy another hug."

He went over, and they hugged again.

"Mommy?" Mercedes asked Camilla with a sneer. 

"I'm his new Mommy," Camilla said, holding his cheeks in her hands and kissing him on the forehead. "His real mom is mean to him, isn't she, my little angel?"

"Yeah," he said timidly.

She sensed a pang of hunger in his stomach. "You hungry, baby?" she asked.

"Yeah, actually. But I don't have any money on me."

"I'll buy you lunch. Let's all go to Harvey's," she said.

"Oh, Camilla, you don't have to--"

"Call me 'Mommy'," she said firmly. "I like that."

"OK, M-Mommy," he said, embarrassed to be so infantilized. They started on their way to the restaurant.

"Angel," Camilla said to Danny. "As a goddess, I need priests to worship me. Two of my priests--Allen and Sean--died a little while ago, and I need replacements. Could you be one of them?"

"Sure," he said. "I'd be honoured. What happened to those guys?"

"Well, it's hard to explain," she said. "Suffice it to say, they got depressed. Allen died of his depression, and Sean actually killed himself. It was awful."

Vaguely sensing danger to himself, Danny asked, "That isn't gonna happen to me, is it?"

"Don't worry, baby," she lied. "Mommy will protect you." They all went through the doors of Harvey's. She whispered in his ear, "You'll have to wear women's clothes."

"Oh?" he said. "Why?"

"It's just ceremonial, in honour of my beauty."

"Oh, uh, I guess I can do that."

"Also, it turns me on to see my pretty boys looking feminine," she said. Standing up close before him, with her tits pressed against his chest, and holding his head in her hands, she looked in his eyes and--in her 'Marilyn' voice, purred, "You do wanna turn me on, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he said, his dick getting hard again. 

*****************

Indeed, she made him do all the things she'd made her other 'priests' do: cross-dress, and be a passive partner in gay sex with Ron and his gay friends, all while Camilla and Mercedes watched. Similarly, the gay sex--both anal and oral--was filmed and posted online. Sensing that Danny wouldn't willingly do such extreme things to please her, Camilla used her mind-controlling powers to make him do it. However artificial it may have been, she enjoyed watching his submission all the same, and decided that, finally, the day was soon coming for him to have sex with her.

On the day that he was to go over to her house, Camilla had Emily take Eros out to an amusement park for the day. Camilla mercifully allowed Danny to come over dressed as a man. 

When he rang the front door to her house that afternoon, she answered the door completely naked. "Hi, sweetie," she said.

"Hi," he sighed, looking up and down her body.

"Come on in," she said. He came in, and followed her upstairs, him immediately behind her. With her bottom just up in front of his face, she deliberately stopped two times to let his face push against her buttocks. After the second time, she asked, "Did you enjoy that, sweetie?"

"I sure did," he said. They went into her bedroom.

"OK, baby," she said. "It's time for you to strip for me." He took off his shoes, socks, T-shirt, and jeans; when she saw his white briefs, she said, "What adorable underwear you have, sweetie!" 

"Oh, uh, thank you." He took them off, and stood naked before her, with his hard-on pointing out forward at her.

"You look so cute naked!" she said with a grin. "Come with me, baby. Let's go into the bathroom."

"Aren't we going to fuck?"

"Danny! Nice boys don't say naughty words."

"Sorry."

"If you pass all my tests of devotion, I'll take your virginity," she said as they entered the bathroom. "Get in the tub, and lie on your back."

He lay on his back, and she got over him and squatted. "What are you gonna do?" he asked, correctly anticipating a golden shower.

"I'm gonna baptize you in the name of the Goddess," she said. Then a golden line of piss poured from her urethra all over his chest, splashing drops on his face and neck. She moved up, getting her pee on his neck and face: he received it all with a smile on his face. She squirted out a few last drops, then straightened up and got out of the shower stall. She sat on the toilet.

"What now?" he asked, standing up. 

"Don't get out of the tub," she said, farting and letting out a few turds. "Just stay there as I give you your next test of devotion." A few more turds dropped out of her asshole.

"I love hearing your beautiful asshole in action," he said, coming more and more to understand coprophilia, when the crapper is a goddess.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, dumping a few more shits. "Some good news today: Garth Van Duyne won the provincial election. The Green Party is running Ontario for the first time ever!" She farted, and shat another log. 

"Wow," he said, sniffing away. "I never thought I'd vote for the Greens. I always believed the Conservative Party was the way to go. At least that's what my parents always tell me. Meeting you has really changed my life in so many ways."

"OK, I'm done," she said, getting up and flushing the toilet. She got some toilet paper, got on the floor on all fours and pointed her muddy asshole at him. "Clean me, please."

"Yes, Goddess," he said. He delighted in wiping the brown off her asshole to reveal its pretty beige colour again. He was very thorough, removing every streak of brown that he could find between each wrinkle.

"Good boy," she said, getting up. She got in the shower stall with him, and they washed each other's bodies completely clean, inside and out. After towelling each other dry, they left the bathroom and went back into the bedroom.

Camilla lay on the bed on her back and spread her legs, raising them up so both her pussy and asshole, fresh and clean, were in view. He got on the bed, eager to put his cock inside either hole.

"Just a minute, sweetie," she said. "I want you to lick me first."

"OK," he said, then put his face between her legs. He put his tongue on her asshole, then pulled it up from there to her vaginal opening, then to her clit, all in one long lick. He repeated that lick several times, and Camilla--sensing that his lack of sexual experience would limit her pleasure--used her psychic powers to let his tongue and fingers know what to do. She visualized Candice's abilities at cunnilingus being in his tongue. Within seconds, he was licking, sucking, and fingering her as well as Candice used to do. 

He sucked on her now-swollen labia as his finger gently pushed its way inside her anus. She ran her hands through his hair, sighing and moaning. Then he slipped his tongue as far inside her vagina as he could reach, tickling her G-spot with it. Her sighs and moans got louder. 

His finger and tongue switched places, and his finger slid all the way inside her pussy, prodding her A-spot while his tongue flickered enthusiastically against her asshole. Finally, he brought his mouth up to her clitoris and sucked on it with tightly sealed lips. She screamed in whistle register and coated his face with her come. 

"Good boy," she sighed. "Now let's...do a...69."

They got into the sixty-nine position, with her on top. She took his hard-on in her mouth while he began licking her pussy and asshole. She played with his balls and wrapped her upper lip tightly around his bulging corpus spongiosum. The tip of his tongue rolled over every wrinkle on her anus while his finger went back inside her dripping wet cunt, massaging her G-spot. 

About to come again, she used her mental powers to make him bring his wide-open mouth down to her pussy, ready to catch the waterfall. She pulled his cock out of her mouth, screamed again, and gushed in his mouth, with only a little come dribbling down the sides.

"OK, baby," she said. "I want...more head." She got on the bed on her back again. "Go between...my legs." 

"What about...me putting...my cock in?" he asked, bringing his face down to her cunt.

"I'll deflower you...in a minute." 

He began fluttering his tongue against her hard clitoris. She played with her tits and pinched her nipples as she squealed to the sensations of his mouth. He sucked on her labia and slid his finger inside her pussy, tickling her G-spot again. She came a third time, soaking his face.

"Good boy," she sighed. "OK, now you're worthy. Put that...big thing...in me." She gave him some Kleenex to wipe his face clean. 

"Alright!" he said, kneeling between her legs. "VIrginity, good-bye forever!" He got on top of her in the missionary position, and slid his cock in slowly. Her sighs got higher and louder with each extra inch he went inside. Finally, he got all the way in, poking at her A-spot. She screamed and came all over his cock and balls.

"That's one...shot of come," she said, her voice shaking from his aggressive thrusts. "Make me...come once more...during this fuck, and I'll...let you...put it in...my anus. Oh!"

"Oh, yeah!" he grunted, and fucked some more. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh!"

He put his hands on her tits and squeezed them gently. She, putting her arms around his neck, looked in his eyes appreciatively as she felt his huge boner ramming away inside her. His eyes mirrored that appreciation, but for taking away his virginity. He'd been especially anxious about losing it after she'd made him have gay sex with Ron and his gay friends. Danny couldn't believe how compliant he'd been about that; he didn't want to believe she'd hypnotized him into taking it up the ass and giving guys head. He dreaded contemplating even the possibility of his being gay, but now, she was making him feel like a man...even though she still wanted him to call her 'Mommy'. This sex with her made it easier for him to forget the gay sex before. 

Her screams grew louder and louder, and her squinting face raised his hopes that she would come soon. Oh, how he wanted to put his cock in her pretty asshole! 

"Ah!" she screamed, drowning his cock and balls with her come. "You did it, baby. You can now...put it in...my anus."

"Oh, thank you, Goddess!" he said joyfully. He pulled his cock out, and she rolled over to be on all fours, spreading her legs out and pushing her ass back so he could see her asshole. "Do you have any lubrication?"

"Don't need it, sweetie." She then used Nigrovum to lubricate her asshole. He watched in awe as it slowly got wetter and wetter, inside and out. She looked back at him with a 'Kitty' smile. "OK, pop it in."

"OK," he panted, then pushed the tip of his cock against her opening anus. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the entry. He got his cock in an inch, and she moaned softly. He pushed in another two inches, and he grunted with pleasure. Finally, he got his cock all the way inside her rectum, and she let out a high-pitched squeal of delight.

He started pumping away. He thrilled to the tightness of her anal lips, which squeezed around his rock-hard shaft. He was surprised--as Mr. Baker had been--to feel her rectum open out. Still, he was enjoying himself no less. 

She turned her head to the side, with her eyes still closed and with that Cheshire 'Kitty' smile, and softly sighed as she felt his cock stimulating her rectal walls, as well as her neighbouring vaginal wall. 

"Are you...enjoying that, sweetie?" she asked.

"Better than...anything else. Oh!" he groaned.

"You're gonna...come soon. Pull it out. Come on...my ass. Oh!"

He pulled his cock out, and she used her psychic powers to make him shoot his load all over her buttocks. His come dripped down her crack, some going a little inside her gaping anus. 

"OK, baby," she said. "Clean it off."

"With a cloth?" he asked.

"No, silly. Eat it."

"Oh, OK." He put his face between her buttocks and started licking and sucking all of his wad off her ass. She looked back at him and smiled, delighted to have him worship her ass so devoutly. 

He'll make such a good priest, she thought.

"Thank you, Goddess," he said between licks.

"You're welcome, and keep voting for the Green Party. Always support Garth Van Duyne."

******************

Camilla regained consciousness, finding herself 37 again, and in the Montreal public aquarium. 

The spirits of Mr. Grisham, Mr. Hanson, Mr. Chen, and Wayne were having her now, on the night of the sixth day of her unending ordeal. She was being forced to suck Grisham's invisible cock, to receive Mr. Hanson's in her always-coming pussy, to feel Mr. Chen's in her ass, and to have Wayne's between her tits, with his invisible hands squeezing her tits together. She could feel the men's malice. 




Camilla Ch. 094



Why did I wear condoms with you? Wayne asked bitterly.  They were useless. 

Though Camilla's suffering hadn't abated in the least, she was at least beginning to piece together what had happened to put her in this situation. Every time she'd voted, or made other people vote, she had been made oblivious to the fact that she had been helping the masked men gain more power. They were using her psychic powers to their advantage, so it would be harder to trace all the bogus voting to them, harder even for those who'd gained Nigrovum's power, but were using it for good, like Dr. Singh. Singh had tried to warn her for all those years, but she'd psychically blocked him; this had worked perfectly for the masked men's purposes.

Only now did Camilla remember having had sex with Garth Van Duyne; he'd psychically made her forget who he really was during every election time. Of course, knowing now was useless to her--it was too late. 

She could feel Don attempting to contact her, and knowing that she still wasn't ready to die, as well as knowing that she still had much to learn about how the masked men had come to power, she drifted off into another memory vision. It was too late for Don to get to her, too. 



Camilla Ch. 095



On the seventh day of Camilla's predicament in the public aquarium in Montreal, she was being gang-banged by two spirits: those of a younger man and an older man she'd met one night thirteen years before, while visiting another strip joint in Toronto, called the Solid Gold. The boy's invisible cock was in her ass, and the older man's was in her pussy. Cell-phone cameras never stopped getting video of those two gaping holes as her naked body continued to hover over the water tank.

Since Camilla was experiencing another out-of-body vision of an old memory, Dr. Singh and the spirits of her loved ones couldn't communicate with her; they were aware, however, of what she was thinking when she relived her memories.

The intensity of Camilla's desire is lower when she re-experiences her past, Agape observed. And when she ejaculates into the water, the lust-energy in the Nigrovum is not as strong as when she' s present-minded and conscious of these uninterrupted gang-rapes she's suffering. This lowering of energy could be a good thing.

How? Candice asked.

With lower levels of lust-energy in her Nigrovum, Agape explained, the masked men will have less effective Nigrovum to use on all those people on the other side of the glass of the water tank, watching her in the viewing area like zombies watching TV. That lowered energy will make it not so easy for the masked men to enslave the masses to their desires. Camilla knows this: she has a plan!

Well, that'll help a bit, Don acknowledged.

I can sense that she's also trying to unravel how all of this really happened, Agape added. The masked men's use of mind control caused her to do everything they wanted her to do--vote them into power, get many other people to vote for them--and she was made completely oblivious as to whom she was really helping.

We could have told her that, Singh communicated from Vancouver. If only she hadn't blocked us.

Yes, but now she wants to see it all unfolding for herself, Agape told them. She's feeling remorse for what she's done. This could motivate her to want to redeem herself, and sacrifice her life to spare the world from the masked men's tyranny, a tyranny of blind indulgence.

Candice asked, If Camilla dies, the masked men can reanimate her, and make her keep on coming, if artificially.

True, Singh explained, but her lust level would quickly drop to zero after her death, as Agape's had when Camilla reanimated his body after he died. When she committed incest with his fresh corpse, his spirit wasn't there with her. There was no lust-energy in the Nigrovum in his ejaculation. Nor will there be in hers after she finally dies.

And there is our hope, Don said.

With less lust in the energy of the Nigrovum in her body, the masked men's control of everyone will be less sure, Agape concluded. Camilla understands this. She just needs to give up her life, to bring that lust to zero.

***************

Camilla's memory visions brought her back thirteen years in the past, to when she was in her house in Toronto with five-year-old Eros. It was summertime. She, with her black-haired, pale 'Goth' look, had just finished taking a shower, and she wrapped a towel around herself before leaving the bathroom to go into her bedroom. Having absent-mindedly left her bedroom door ajar, she dropped her towel by her bed.

She sensed Eros coming, and that he psychically knew she was naked. She squatted down on the floor and grabbed the towel as he ran into her room.

Covering her front with the towel as he got up close to her, she said, "Sweetie, Mommy doesn't have her clothes on. Please leave my room till I'm dressed."

"But Mommy, I wanna--" he began, trying to get a peek at her bare ass.

"Nice boys don't wanna see their mommies when they don't have their clothes on," she said firmly.

"But Mommy, you see me when I have a bath."

"That's different, sweetie. Mommy isn't thinking dirty thoughts when she's giving you a bath. Go outside, close the door behind you, and wait until I'm dressed."

"But Mommy, it's not fair."

"Baby, I don't want to use my power on you, but I will if you keep this up. Go outside."

"But Mommy," he whined in frustration.

"Sorry, Camilla," Emily said as she came in the room. She took the unusually big boy by the arm and tried to take him out of Camilla's bedroom. "Wow, he's not so easy to move anymore."

"Let me go!" he said angrily. "I wanna see Mommy."

Camilla looked deep into his eyes. "You'll go with Emily now." Within seconds, he was no longer struggling to get free of Emily.

"I'll go with Emily now," he repeated, now docile. He walked out of the bedroom quietly with Emily. She closed the door after her.

His Oedipus complex is so strong! Camilla thought as she put her clothes on. He's getting out of control. I can't believe what happened last week, when he actually came into my bedroom, and I was having sex with Danny. I was so horny during the sex that I was too distracted to sense Eros' presence psychically. I'm gonna have to have another place for when I have sex with young guys like Danny or Chris, guys who still live with their parents. Maybe I can rent out Candice's old apartment, just down the street. It'll bring back older, happier memories of her. God, how I miss her; and how I miss Daddy! In Eros, I can psychically feel their energy, since he's partially made with the Nigrovum from their come. Feeling their energy makes me feel as if they're still with me--it makes their loss bearable...or almost bearable, anyway. The bubble I have around me, the one that numbs my emotions, still keeps the pain of their loss from tearing me apart psychologically. I don't know how my sanity would stay intact without that bubble.

****************

Indeed, Camilla did go to that apartment building Candice had lived in; Camilla was lucky that no one was renting out Candice's old room at the time, and so Camilla now rented it.

Paying for the extra place wouldn't be a problem for her, since she was making such a large sum of money as a lap dancer at Club Ritz. The inheritance she'd received from her father, which included his old house, also made it easier for her to cope financially with all her expenses.

Now she had a place for lovers, at a safe distance from all-too-curious Eros.

****************

That night, Camilla went out partying with Ron, Vera, and Mercedes after Club Ritz had closed early due to electrical problems. The four of them found another strip joint several blocks away from Club Ritz, the Solid Gold. They sat at a table by the stage and ordered some beers.

The stripper onstage at the time, naked but skinny, older, and unattractive, had just finished her last song. She got off the stage.

"What a skank," Mercedes said in Camilla's ear.

"Yeah," Camilla said. Then she saw a cute young man, tall, thin, and blond, walk into the bar. She looked at him and grinned invitingly. He blushed and sat at the tip rail. "What a cutie he is! I'm going onstage and getting naked for him." She immediately got up and started towards the stage.

"But Camilla," Vera said. "You don't work here. They won't let you."

"Oh, yes they will," Camilla said, using her psychic powers to 'inform' both the DJ and the stripper about to go on that it was now Camilla's turn to do her floorshow. Everyone working in the bar was perfectly compliant, as if Camilla really was an employee of the Solid Gold. The DJ, mysteriously, even knew how to announce her.

"And now, everyone, let's give a big hand for this very sexy lady," the DJ said as she got up onstage and began moving around. "Here's Camilla!"

It being a Tuesday night, there weren't many people in the bar, but those who were there cheered loudly for her, especially, of course, her three friends. With her original blonde, peach-skinned look, Camilla was wearing a sleeveless red shirt, cut-off jean shorts, and high heels, as well as her usual whore-bright makeup.

The DJ played 'Situation', by Yazoo, for her first song...at her psychic suggestion. She moved like a go-go dancer to the beat. The boy watching her smiled in fascination with her beauty, and in return for the smiles she was always giving him. By the middle of the song, she'd taken off her jean shorts, revealing her pink panties. Mercedes and Vera were cheering and whistling. Though sexually uninterested, gay Ron still shouted encouragement to Camilla.

When 'Situation' was about to end, Camilla mentally suggested Yazoo's 'Don't Go' for her second song; the DJ immediately followed up with that song. Two minutes into the song, Camilla, facing the boy, pulled off her shirt with a gleeful wiggle of her bra-less breasts. He had an ear-to-ear grin on his face, which she mirrored back to him. A minute or so later, she pulled down her panties to reveal her pubic hair to him. Once the song had faded out, she removed her high heels. His dick was rock hard at the sight of her frontal nudity.

She sent the DJ a mental signal to play 'This City Never Sleeps', by the Eurythmics, which he put on right away. Crawling around the stage, and with her back to the boy, she had her legs spread out wide and her butt pushed out so he could clearly see her pink pussy and golden beige asshole. He looked, and couldn't decide which hole he wanted to kiss, lick, and fuck first. Later, facing him, she lay on her back and spread her legs, showing off her pussy; then she brought up her legs so he could see her asshole, too.

The song ended, and she got offstage. He timidly went over to her as she picked up her clothes. She was bent over, deliberately showing off both holes for him, since she sensed his approaching.

"Excuse me," he said. "Could I have a table dance?"

"Sure, sweetie," she said, still bent over and looking up at him (he was still taking furtive looks at her still-showing pussy and asshole). He will make a perfect priest, she thought; he can easily replace poor Joey. It's so sad that Joey had to go crazy and kill himself two months ago. Oh, well: those are the fortunes of Nigrovum. She put on her high heels and carried the rest of her clothes to a table where the boy was going.

Knowing exactly what Camilla was going to do, Ron, Vera, and Mercedes went over to say goodnight to Camilla.

"Have fun tonight," Mercedes said, pecking Camilla on the cheek.

"Maybe there's a gay bar open," Ron said. "Goodnight."

Vera went up to the boy. "Have fun with her, honey," she said, smirking. "I'm jealous already." The boy got quite a jolt from what she was suggesting.

"Bye, guys," Camilla said to her friends as they walked out of the bar. Then she looked back at the boy. "So what's your name, sweetie?"

"Brian," he said shyly, feeling totally intimidated by the sexy, naked woman sitting next to him.

"I'm Camilla," she said warmly, shaking his hand. "Are you old enough to be in here?" She smiled, noting his particularly boyish features.

"Yeah, I'm eighteen," he said, fishing for his ID in his pants pocket.

"Oh, I believe you, baby," she said, psychically sensing he was telling the truth. "You just look so young. Not that I mind, of course; you're a real cutie."

"Thank you," he said bashfully.

Sensing his gentleness, as well as his virginity, she then said, "Oh, you are such a sweetheart. I would totally go out with you."

Though he suspected she said that only to make him want to pay for lots of table dances, he also remembered Vera's insinuation before she left, and could only hope what he'd heard was the truth.

"I've never s-seen you in here before," he said, his voice cracking. "Are you new?"

"Oh, no, I don't work here," Camilla said. "I strip in Club Ritz, but the power there's fucked tonight. Reminds me of Luvlee's, a strip joint in Vancouver I used to work in. Their power was always going out, too."

"If you don't work here, why'd you go onstage just now?"

"'Cause I wanted to let you see how I look naked. Do you like my body?" She put her feet up on her chair, at the sides, and spread her legs so he could see her pussy again.

At the sound of her words, his jaw dropped to the floor, as it were, and his eyes almost popped out of his head. "Oh, yeah: you're beautiful," he moaned, as if he were a slurring drunk.

A new song began. "Want a table dance now?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, y-yeah," he stammered.

She got up and put her knees on his chair, pushing them against the hard-on that was bulging in the crotch of his pants. She wrapped her tits around his face, squeezed them together, and rubbed her nipples all over his nose and lips. Then she got up, raised her right leg, and put her foot on the back of his chair, by his left shoulder; she leaned forward, and pulled him by the top of his shirt to bring his face closer to her pussy, whose labia she'd spread wide open for his fascinated eyes.

After that, she brought her foot down, turned around, spread her legs, and opened her buttocks out wide so he could see her asshole again; she looked back at him to see his reaction, which was a mesmerized smile.

Then she bent over, showing off her asshole and pussy some more. Looking back at him upside-down from between her legs, she grinned and giggled at his dazed reaction.

She sat on his pointy lap and rubbed her soft, smooth ass against his hard-on, looking back at him and giggling at his ecstatic horniness. His hopes, that her interest in him was real, were now soaring.

A few more indulgent table dances went by; then an older man in a black suit came into the bar. He looked at Camilla as she was lap dancing Brian, and, recognizing her, his eyes locked on hers.

Don't you remember our date tonight? he mentally asked her. No such date had actually been arranged, but in her mind, the 'memory' of such an arrangement suddenly popped up, seeming as real as if they actually had made a date.

Embarrassed with her 'faulty' memory, Camilla suddenly got off of Brian's lap. "Oh, shit!" she said, reaching for her clothes.

"What's wrong?" Brian asked.

"Sorry, baby," she said, caressing his cheek. "I gotta go. I have a date with that gentleman over there, and--silly me!--I forgot all about it. I can't believe I forgot all about it. What's the matter with me? Look, I'll make it up to you, sweetie, I promise." She kissed Brian on the cheek. "Come to Club Ritz sometime, and we'll pick up where we left off here. I'm so sorry, sweetie. Bye." Then she went over the where the older man was sitting.

Brian watched with a frown as she gave the older man table dances. I knew it, Brian thought; she just wanted to suck as much money out of me as she could. Bitch! Strangely, as he was thinking this, he forgot that she'd never asked him to pay for his table dances.

Later that night, the older man--who was in his late fifties and had jet black hair, eyes, nails, and pale skin--took Camilla to his home It was a beautiful house in a quiet neighbourhood where, obviously, many well-off people lived. She, in the stupor he'd put her in, had left Solid Gold and got into his car with none of her clothes, taking only her purse. The psychic barrier he'd put around her kept her safe from anyone else, including any meddling cops.

They went up to his bedroom, and she lay on the bed with her legs spread wide open. He took off his shoes and black blazer, then removed his necktie and got on the bed. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his fully-erect cock. Her insatiable pussy was already soaking wet with expectation.

So horny was she that she didn't even notice the grotesque mask that audaciously lay on his bedside table, in plain view. His mind-controlling powers, of course, kept her distracted.

Indeed, she was so under his control that she would remain passive and helpless as he, in his criminal vanity, used his mental telepathy to reveal the masked men's whole plan to her as he fucked her pussy, ass, and mouth. Furthermore, she would remember none of what he'd told her that night.

As Camilla was reliving this memory, as she had relived, and would relive, all the others, only now was she perceiving--as if for the first time--everything the masked men had been doing to her and to everyone else she'd come in contact with over those years. It was a horrifying revelation, and she felt completely helpless to stop them.

When you and Candice got away from us back in Vancouver, he told her in his thoughts as he slid his big cock inside her pussy, we were relatively weak, and had underestimated your own psychic powers. You killed a few of us with your 'prayers', and so you were just beginning to discover what you could do with Nigrovum. We sensed you were leaving for Toronto, so when I followed you there, and told our contacts there that you'd arrived, it took us a while to pinpoint your exact whereabouts. He started thrusting away aggressively, as if deliberately to tear her vaginal walls, but she was so well-lubricated that she came within a half-minute of his penile stabs.

One night, almost six years ago, you'd used your power to force a York professor to have sex with you in Queen's Park, the man continued as he kept ramming his cock in her still-spewing pussy. At first, you were alone with Dr. Alex McVie, but in the middle of your sexual encounter with him, I'd arrived after feeling a powerful psychic tug that you were up to your usual naughtiness. I hid behind a nearby tree and enjoyed watching the show. After you'd come all over the grass, and allowed McVie to leave, I waited for you to get in your taxi with Candice and drive away. I used my own psychic powers to block you, to make sure you'd never suspect you were being watched. I quickly found where your come was in the dark--thanks to Nigrovum, I didn't need to see it--then I ate it and the grass it was sprinkled on. My own psychic powers grew stronger that night, since I'd acquired your talents at mind manipulation. Indeed, the expanded energy of your psychic power had then passed on from you to me. With those last words, he thrust particularly hard, and she came again.

He pulled his cock out of her pussy, which had drowned his bedsheets with her come. Then he had her roll over and get on all fours, so he could fuck her ass. She psychically lubricated her rectum for him, and he slid his cock inside.

From that night in Queen's Park, he went on as he shoved his cock in and out of her ass, it was easy to track you to the York University campus, where--stupid girl!--you had public sex with Dr. McVie again, in broad daylight. Though your psychic force field had kept everyone else from stopping you or identifying you, your power didn't work on me, of course. I was there among the crowd that day, pretending to be one of those helpless, immobilized people. When you'd left and removed your force field, I psychically made everyone want to hurry away from the scene, hurry even faster than they'd originally wanted to rush. With no one in the area, I found your come on the grass. Some of it I ate, and some of it I put in a cup with the grass it had fouled. Again, I grew stronger.




Camilla Ch. 095



Having dug enough of a tunnel in her rectum, he pulled his cock out, and had her turn around so he could put it in her mouth. He stood up on his bed, and she, kneeling before him in complete submission, grinned as she took the tip of his cock to her lips. She heard and understood everything he was saying, but he'd used his power to put a mental block on her, making it impossible for her to react with horror to what she was hearing. She simply looked up at him and smiled as she began kissing and licking the tip of his cock. Then she took it a third of the way inside her mouth.

I also quickly learned about a few male classmates of yours; you'd given them your come-soaked panties, or your come in a plastic bag. Since I'd been following you around from class to class, always psychically blocking you so you'd never know you were being watched, I quickly found these men you'd given your wicked gifts to. I then used my psychic power to make the men give me those soaking wet sweets. My masked friends and I used your come to make new drinks--just like the ones we'd given you, Candice, and our other victims in the mansion on Grouse Mountain. Always true to the principles of the Green Party, we of course mixed your come with grass to make the drinks. After all, Nigrovum fell from the sky onto the Toronto grass, too, not just the Vancouver grass. It fell on grass all over the world. Using those drinks in our rituals, we grew stronger with Nigrovum yet again.

Her head was going back and forth quickly, vigorously taking his shaft in and out of her mouth, all the while holding his balls in her hand, gently shaking them and lightly scratching his scrotum.

From then on, we continued monitoring your behaviour, following you to parks where you'd come on the grass during your porno video shoots, or during various sexual encounters with whatever men you'd found. We appeared in your dreams, accompanying the dead masked men in your nightmares. We often go to Club Ritz, offering you extra money to come on us, or give us golden showers, just to get more of your power and lust-energy. You've even come, or peed, in cups for us sometimes: you may remember having done that, but I doubt you realized you were doing it for us, as you helped us get voted in power in the last provincial election. With all of your help, we've grown slowly but surely, and now we're not just your psychic equals--we're your superiors.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth, then rained his come not on her face or body, but on the sheets of his bed. After all, he didn't want to share his power with her--only take her power for himself.

Our time hasn't come yet, though. It will, one day, once we've spread our power around the world, something we're well on our way to doing. When that is finally achieved, what we have planned for you will finally happen--oh, that will blow you away, baby! He got off the bed, put his spent penis back in his pants, and zipped them up. Of course, some of our energy has rubbed off on you: now you enjoy having power over people, humiliating boys, making them dress like women. That's all fine with us, we like it. Weakening men is part of our plan to control everyone, so we're all very thankful for all the help you've given us, Camilla. Of course, the day will come when those boys will want their revenge on you.

He psychically had Camilla get off the bed and walk out of the bedroom. He followed her down the stairs. She picked up her purse, which she'd left by the front door, then walked out, still completely naked.

Don't judge us, or our lust for power, Camilla, he told her mentally as she walked down the sidewalk in the direction of the nearest bus stop. Remember: you're no better than we are. He closed his front door, giggling to himself.

Once she'd gotten far enough away from his house not to have even a clue as to where she'd just been, he released her from his psychic power.

"Oh!" she yelped, looking down at herself and surprised by her nudity. "Where the fuck am I? Where the fuck are my clothes?" After trying unsuccessfully to use her psychic powers to retrieve her clothes, or get any others that would fit her that were in the area (she was being blocked again), she took out her cell-phone and called Mercedes, asking her to drive over with a dress and pick her up on the street where she was. As she waited for Mercedes, Camilla puzzled over what had happened. Somebody's fucking with me. First in my classes, now out here. Camilla did a psychic scan over the whole neighbourhood, trying to find anyone who had Nigrovum in his blood. Since the man she'd been with was blocking her, she learned nothing. Fuck! What is going on here? I must have just had sex with someone: who? I vaguely sense he was telling me something important, and it gave me the chills. What did he say? I don't remember at all. Who was he, or she? This is getting really scary. She sensed a few neighbours watching her from their windows and getting video of her nakedness with their cell-phones.

Mercedes arrived, and Camilla got in her car. "Thanks, Mercedes," she said, putting on the dress she'd been given. "Can you take me home?"

"Sure," Mercedes said. "Why were you naked out there? Who'd you fuck tonight? That kid?"

"Brian? No, I don't think it was that boy," Camilla said. "I sensed no psychic powers in him at all."

"Then who fucked you just now?" Mercedes asked.

"I wish I knew...I wish I knew."

*****************

A week or so later, Camilla was out in the patio area of a bar in downtown Toronto, looking for a lover. With her original blonde look, she was wearing a sleeveless white shirt, and cut-off jean shorts with a triangle cut out from the top middle of the back, to show off an inch of buttock cleavage. Her shirt went down just barely below her breasts, and her face was made up like a prostitute, as usual.

She saw Brian come by the patio, and she smiled at him as invitingly as she had in the Solid Gold. Still annoyed at how she'd led him on--as he saw it--in the strip joint, he reacted coolly to her come-on.

Not one to be rejected, especially not by a mere boy, she wasn't going to give up that easily. (Besides, none of the other men in the bar were appealing to her--a psychic force field kept them away--and she still wanted Brian for a 'priest'.) She visualized his penis getting erect as she approached him.

"Hi Brian," she said. "I'm really sorry about the other night."

"Oh, uh,..." he stammered, bending slightly from his erection.

"I don't know what came over me then," she explained. "I must have been drunk, or stoned, or something. I barely even remember what happened with that other guy, whoever he was."

"You were on a date with him, remember?" Brian said coldly, though still hot with a hard-on.

"That's just it, baby, I don't remember," she said, with a look of genuine confusion and fear in her eyes that even he was beginning to believe. "Look, whatever happened with him, I'm sorry, and I'm gonna make it up to you tonight. I promise."

"How?"

"Wanna fuck me tonight?"

"W-well, uh, s-sounds like fun, but I dunno if I can trust--"

"I have three holes, and they're all for you tonight," she purred, licking her lips.

He was practically drooling at the sight of her lips, painted with dark red lipstick. Also remembering the delicious pink pussy and golden wrinkly asshole he'd seen on her, he was ready to forgive her, provided she'd deliver on her promise. "Well, hot girls like you always have big, strong boyfriends, or husbands. How do I know I'm not gonna get caught in bed with you, then get castrated by a crazy, jealous lover?"

"There's no other guy in my life. In fact, there never has been--except briefly, when I was about eighteen-and-a-half, and starting university; but that was a disaster. Anyway, I like my sexual freedom, and tonight, I want you," she said. "C'mon, sweetie: lemme buy you a beer."

"I wish I could trust you," he said.

"My three holes each have a sign on them, saying, 'Come on in, Brian's penis'." She giggled lewdly.

"Your place or mine? I mean, it can't be mine, 'cause I still live with my parents."

"No problem: mine." She bought herself and him a beer, and they found a table. He sat down, and she stood before him, with her back to him. When she removed the cap from her beer, she deliberately dropped it. She bent over, with her legs spread out, to pick it up: he had her immaculately clean asshole inches from his face. She looked up at him after picking up the beer cap. "Like what you see, sweetie?"

"Oh, I'm just reading the 'Welcome' sign."

She giggled, and stayed bent over a while longer for him.

****************

After a half hour of drinking and talking at the bar, Camilla got a taxi and took Brian to her new apartment. On the way up to her floor in the elevator, she pulled off her top with a wiggle of her bra-less tits. She dropped the shirt in his hands.

"Wait," he said nervously. "M-maybe you shouldn't--"

"Why not?" she asked, unzipping her shorts. "You've already had a preview of this." Giggling, she let her shorts drop to her feet. Without panties, she was now naked. She kicked off her high heels. "Pick up my clothes, baby."

The elevator door opened, and she sang, skipped, and danced down the hall with her purse in one hand and the key to her room in the other. Brian hurried behind with her clothes in his hands.

The fat neighbour who lived across the hall from her room had his door ajar; he was getting video of her nakedness on his cell-phone camera. She sensed this, and used her telekinetic abilities from Nigrovum to make his door suddenly slam shut, breaking his phone and his nose. She unlocked her door, and she and Brian went into her room.

She sat on her bed and, smiling, watched him nervously take off all his clothes. Finally, he stood fully naked before her.

"You look so cute without your clothes on!" she said with a big grin. Looking at and stroking his erection, she added, "And he's gonna give me so much pleasure. C'mon, baby, let's take a shower together. My pussy smells of pee, and I wanna smell good for you."

They went into the bathroom, and got in the shower stall. As they washed each other's genitals and asses thoroughly, inside and out, they kissed.

"My poor little baby," she said in a maternal tone. "I was so mean to you, getting you all worked up and then leaving you. Can you forgive me?"

"Oh, I think so," he said. "Just take my virginity away tonight, and we'll call it even."

Though she'd already psychically sensed he was a virgin, she still pretended to be delightfully surprised. "My little baby's a virgin? That's so sweet. I'm gonna give you your first time! Oh, you're so adorable!" She hugged him and kissed him hard on the mouth. "I don't know whether to be your lover or your mommy."

"Be both?" he asked, with a wicked smirk.

"OK, you naughtily little boy."

They got out of the shower stall, dried each other off, then went back into the bedroom.

He lay on her bed on his back, and she got on top of him in the sixty-nine position. She slowly took his hard-on in her salivating mouth, and he started licking her along her vaginal opening, from her clitoris to her perineum. She gently shook his balls and wrapped her upper lip tightly around his corpus spongiosum. He slid his finger inside her wet pussy, fingering her all along her vaginal walls, tickling her G-spot; as he did that, he was licking her asshole.

They were sighing and moaning about an octave apart from each other, in wave-like ascending and descending pitches. Her sighs and squeals were getting louder and louder as she approached orgasm. She psychically made him bring his head down to swallow her come. He was fingering her rock-hard clit, and she gushed in his wide-open mouth. He caught most of it, though a little dribbled down his cheeks. He licked the rest off his face. She took his cock out of her mouth.

"That was great, baby," she said, getting on top of him in the cowgirl position. "Time to deflower you." She aimed his cock over her pussy, and slowly came down on it.

"Alright," he moaned. He smiled to see his cock slowly disappear inside her cunt, the first such disappearance in his life. He was thrilled to feel her pussy's tightness and wetness as it hugged his shaft. She got it completely in, and squealed up high when it poked against her A-spot for the first time. She began bouncing on his pelvis, loving the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her. Within twenty seconds of fucking, she came all over his lap.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!"

"Wow, you're quite...a gusher," he groaned. "Unh!"

"Yeah," she sighed. "You've quite...a boner. Ah!" She came again.

He had his hands on her hips, and he enjoyed seeing her tits bounce up and down. He was really finally doing it; he was a man. He put his hands on her ass, then opened her buttocks, reaching for her asshole.

When his fingers got there, she asked, "Wanna fuck...my ass? Oh!"

"Oh, yeah!" he moaned.

She got up, pulling his cock out of her soaking wet pussy and sighing shaky soprano notes as it came out. Then she got on the bed on all fours, spreading her legs out and pushing her butt back so he could see her asshole. He looked at the pretty hole and smiled, aiming his cock for it.

"Take some...of my come, and smear it...inside," she said. He got some of her come from off his groin area and lubricated her anus and rectum with it. Then he carefully pushed the tip of his cock against her opening asshole. She looked back at him and smiled with an open mouth as his cock slowly went in, inch by inch.

When he got it all the way in, he grunted with delight, then began pushing in and pulling out. Oh, how those anal lips squeezed around his shaft!

He kept shoving it in and out for the next minute or two before he could feel himself about to come. She sensed this, too.

"OK, baby," she sighed. "Pull it out, and come on my butt-cheeks. Ooh!" He pulled his cock out.

She held his cock in her hand, and briefly jerked him off. He soon sprayed his come all over her ass, first hitting her right buttock, then her anal cleft, then her left buttock, then her anal cleft again, some getting inside her gaping asshole. When no more jizz was coming out, she gently brushed the tip of his cock against her gluteal sulcus.

"Alright," she said in sighs. "Now lick and suck your wad off my ass."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes, clean me up."

"OK," he said, then brought his mouth down to her ass, licking and sucking off all of his come till her ass was as clean as it was going to be without another shower. When he was finished, they lay beside each other and cuddled.

"So," she asked, looking in his eyes maternally and caressing his cheek. "Are you now compensated for?"

"Oh, more than compensated," he said. "I finally lost my virginity. It was getting really embarrassing, still being a virgin, till I met you. Thank you so much: now I feel I owe you."

"I'm glad you feel that way," she said. "'Cause I need you to do some stuff for me now."

"OK."

She looked deep in his eyes, and in her 'Marilyn' voice, asked, "You do wanna do stuff for me, don't you?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. I am a goddess."

"You are a goddess."

"You'll vote Green Party, the party of the Goddess, always."

"I'll vote Green Party, the party of the Goddess, always."

"You'll vote for Garth Van Duyne, when he runs for Prime Minister in a few years."

"I'll vote for Garth Van Duyne, when he runs for Prime Minister in a few years."

"As a goddess, I want you to be my new priest."

"As a goddess, you want me to be your new priest."

"You will cross-dress, in honour of my beauty."

"I will cross-dress, in honour of your beauty."

"To be properly ceremoniously feminine, you will have sex passively, like a girl."

"To be properly ceremoniously feminine, I will have sex passively, like a girl."

"You will allow my gay male friends to sodomize you."

"I will allow your gay male friends to sodomize me."

"You will also perform fellatio on them."

"I will also perform fellatio on them."

"You will bathe me regularly, and wipe my ass after I shit, smelling it all and never wincing."

"I will bathe you regularly, and wipe your ass after you shit, smelling it all and never wincing."

"Good boy," she said, tickling him under the chin. Right: I control other people, she thought with an angry look. They don't control me. And I'm gonna find out who's been terrorizing me.

Indeed, she would find out...but thirteen years later...

****************

37-year-old Camilla woke up from that memory vision, to find herself, of course, back in the Montreal aquarium. The spirits of three of her old elementary school teachers were now gang-banging her: She was giving Mr. Keyes a blow-job; Mr. Dawson's invisible cock was pumping in and out of her gaping, always-coming pussy; and Mr. Gray was fucking her ass. It was the seventh night of her ordeal.

All you ever did was for your own pleasure, Keyes complained.

Why'd you have to tempt us all? Dawson told her in his bitter thoughts.

You've brought so much pain on so many people, Gray told her.

They're right, she thought; this was all my fault. In reliving all my old memories, I can see now how I caused all of this to happen. The warning signs were all there, but I wouldn't listen to Dr. Singh, or Candice, or anyone. I listened only to my own thirst for unending pleasure. The masked men told me everything, but kept me from remembering what they'd told me. Now I know what they were doing, but it's all too late. Or is it? Is there anything I can do to fix all that I've done wrong? I helped them get voted into power, as I'm sure many other people around the world were used to help them in all the other countries. Surely there must be some way we can stop them.

She looked at herself in the reflection of the glass of the water tank, trying to ignore all those people on the upper ledge who were getting video of her gaping mouth, pussy, and asshole. She saw her black hair, black eyes, and pale skin. Suddenly, she was reminded of her mother, who'd looked the same when she was alive.

Oh, my God, she thought. I became her; I turned into my mother, and not just in looks. I turned into a nymphomaniac. I became sexually promiscuous. I've been selfish. I've been abusive and controlling of kids, of all those young men I humiliated, and of my son. My mother made me into a twisted person, and I made my son into a twisted person. I became my mother. How did that happen? I never intended that to happen.




Camilla Ch. 095



Despair was enveloping her, even in her continuing fear of death. But after coming again into the water below, she remembered how her lust levels were increasing with her returned consciousness. She had to go back into the dreamworld of another memory vision, to bring down her lust-energy. In that was at least some hope of thwarting the masked men, by weakening their power.

So just as she began to feel the psychic presence of Agape, Don, Candice, and Dr. Singh, she drifted off again into unconsciousness, to a memory twelve years before. Maybe as she explored more of her memories, she would be able to find a weakness in the masked men's plans, one that she would be able to use to save herself.



Camilla Ch. 096



37-year-old Camilla was reliving, in another out-of-body vision, a memory twelve years before the incubus gang-bang ordeal her naked body was still suffering in the public aquarium in Montreal, an ordeal that was now beginning its second week.

In this memory vision, Camilla was twenty-five at the time, but looking twenty-one because of Nigrovum's slowing of her ageing process. She, in her 'Goth' look, went into her six-year-old son's bedroom on Sunday afternoon in late September. She was shocked to see how he was dressed. He was in a pink dress and girls' black shoes, and he had clumsily applied her makeup all over his face!

"Eros!" she yelled. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"You like boys dressed like girls," Eros said. "And I wanted to please you."

Remembering her sexual meaning whenever she spoke of 'wanting to please' someone, and psychically knowing he had the same meaning, Camilla felt a chill from the sound of his words.

"Baby," she asked, "you used your power to make Emily buy those clothes for you, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said, looking down at the floor in shame.

Kneeling before him, she said, "OK, sweetie, get out of those clothes."

"But Mommy, I thought you'd like this."

"Not on my son. You're dressing like a boy, and only like a boy." She used a cloth to wipe the makeup off his face while he reluctantly took off the dress. He was even wearing girls' panties! "Oh, Eros! That's disgusting!"

He began sobbing. "B-but, those men you like w-wear girls' underwear."

She held his cheeks in her hands and looked in his eyes. "Baby, mothers and sons cannot be lovers. People in families can't be boyfriends and girlfriends."

"Why not, Mommy?"

Remembering her tragedy with her father, she looked away from Eros, and fighting back tears, answered, "Because that kind of love leads to t-terrible things." She looked back in his tear-filled eyes, and psychically began putting him into what psychoanalysts call the latency period, effectively ending his Oedipus complex...at least for the time being. She aimed her eyes straight at the boy's, and said, "You will stop thinking about loving me, now."

"I will stop thinking about loving you, now," he said obediently, in a trance.

"You'll stop thinking about love," she said.

"I'll stop thinking about love."

"You'll stay uninterested in love and sex until you're a teenager."

"I'll stay uninterested in love and sex until I'm a teenager."

"And when you are interested in love again, you'll want other girls, not me."

"And when I am interested in love again, I'll want other girls, not you."

"Good boy," she said, then finished removing the makeup and changing him back into boy's clothes. She left him to play with his toys, then went into her bedroom.

She sat on her bed. Poor Danny and Brian, she thought; both of them died earlier this year, because my Nigrovum drove them crazy. All of this craziness is my fault. It's all got to stop. Way too many people have died. If Eros dies from it, too, I won't be able to bear it; I'm amazed I've been able to go on after losing both Candice and Daddy. I must put an end to my sexual promiscuity; but sex just gets more and more addictive, with every new lover I have.

Between all my sexual conquests and my graduate research, I'm completely neglectful of Eros, Camilla continued in her remorseful meditation. I have my MA, and I'm beginning work on my PhD thesis, but surely by now, at twenty-five, I've finished sowing my wild oats. Eros has no father, but he needs one. And it's high time I got a husband.

A father will discipline my boy, she went on in her thoughts; identification with a father figure should end his Oedipus complex for good. The obligation to be a good wife and family woman should discipline me, and help me calm my nymphomania down. At least I have to try to calm it down. Maybe if I mediate on spiritual things, as Ravinder used to advise me to do, I can get Nigrovum to help clean the slut out of me.

The man I choose will have to be great in bed, she thought. He'll have to keep me satisfied, so I won't cheat on him. He'll have to have a lot of Daddy's personality, as well as the physicality of Danny, Sean, and those other sexy boys I've enjoyed over the years. I'll put out psychic feelers all over the York campus tomorrow; then when I've made a choice, I'll reel him in. He'll see me nude in Club Ritz, he won't be able to resist me, and we'll get married.

*************

The man she chose was a professor who'd taught her when she was working on her MA: Dr. Cameron Fox, a tall, thin, and handsome man in his late forties. He seemed perfect--smart and gentle, like Agape, but with the shy boyishness of all her former 'priests'. She also knew, from a psychic scan of his thoughts, that he'd never married.

In Club Ritz the next Friday night, she sent a psychic signal out to him.

Dr. Fox, she mentally told him while he was sitting at home, reading a book. Come to me. See my body; you'll never forget it. He felt inexplicably compelled to put his book down, get his car keys, and go out to his car. As he was driving out of his neighbourhood, he felt her psychic voice pulling her in the direction of her strip joint. He didn't know where he was driving, but he was going down all the right streets to get there, thanks to her psychic magnetism. Dr. Fox, come see me naked; you'll love what you see. In about twenty minutes, he'd arrived.

She'd psychically changed back to her original blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look; she was wearing high heels and a black evening gown that hugged her body so as accurately to show off her curves. Her face was heavily made up, as usual, with bright red lipstick. As soon as she saw him walking around in the bar like an automaton, she rushed up to meet him.

"Dr. Fox! Hi!" she said in feigned surprise and a wide grin. In her uninhibited 'Kitty' persona, she threw her arms tightly around his waist.

"Hi," he said shyly, startled by her forwardness. "Wait: you're Camilla Mennon, aren't you?"

"Yep," she said, still hugging him, and rubbing her belly against the growing protrusion in his pants. "So good to see you here. How are you?"

"Oh, fine," he said, embarrassed at how his erection was poking into her thigh. "I normally n-never come to places like this, but something--I don't know what--somehow lured me here."

"I know what: you came to see me." She looked up at him with a Siren-like gaze.

He chuckled bashfully at her answer. "Yeah, perhaps."

"I'm going onstage soon. Come up to perverts' row and watch me."

"Oh, uh, I'd feel too embarrassed."

"Why? Don't you find me attractive?" She pouted.

"Oh, no," he said. "Quite the opposite. You look lovely and elegant in that dress. An absolute lady. I j-just think watching you strip would tarnish that divine image of you."

"Or make it sexier. Come on: I want you to see everything up close, in detail." She took him by the arm and led him to the tip rail, where he reluctantly sat, embarrassed at being associated with oglers.

She went onstage, moving to the beat of 'Boogie Nights', by Heatwave. By the time the synth melody began playing in the middle of the song, she'd unzipped her dress at the back and let it fall to the floor, revealing her white bra and panties. He blushed, but was totally entranced with this paradoxical tramp of a lady.

Her second song was 'September', by Earth, Wind, and Fire. At the first moment when Philip Bailey's high falsetto was heard, Camilla took off her bra, wiggling her breasts with agape eyes and a wide-open mouth, mirroring the reaction on Dr. Fox's face. As the song was fading out, she pulled down her panties, blithely standing frontally nude before him with a smile on her face.

After taking off her black high heels, her third song began: 'Les Fleurs', by Minnie Riperton. She crawled around with her legs spread out and her butt pushed out, so her beige, wrinkled asshole and pink pussy were in clear view of Dr. Fox's rapt eyes. It was hard for him to reconcile the intelligent grad student he'd taught the preceding year, so enchanting in that dress she'd had on not even fifteen minutes before, with the naked trollop who was so joyfully showing off the crudest parts of her anatomy to him. All the same, that irreconcilable juxtaposition also thrilled him, for those two opposing elements were equally desirable to him in a woman.

He'd been most impressed with her as a student in his class; she was one of the brightest he'd had the pleasure of teaching. He'd always found her attractive, with that hypnotically pretty mouth--so deliciously adorned with cherry red lipstick; but he couldn't imagine, in a million years, her ever feeling the same way about him. He'd also never expected to see the other end of her alimentary canal, or any of the rest of her so coveted body, so insouciantly exposed. Indeed, those two flowers, her vulva and anus, were being so generously displayed before his fascinated eyes that he was about to start counting the folds in her skin when the song finally ended. She got off the stage, taking her clothes with her; and he just sat there, stunned, before getting up and sitting at a table at the side of the bar several minutes later.

She hadn't gone with him to his table because she'd promised, before going onstage, to give lap dances to another customer in a private room. As she rubbed her ass against the man's hard-on, she psychically monitored Fox, to make sure he was still in the bar.

Three songs later, she left the private room and looked for her former teacher, who was still sitting at his table with a stunned look on his face.

"Hi sir," she said in her 'Kitty' voice when she reached his table. "Want some table dances?"

"Oh, uh, sure," he said timidly, fearing more embarrassment from her so carefree exhibitionism, but not wanting to be rude and reject her, either. Besides, deep down, he craved another look at her sweet body. "How is it that such an intelligent young woman like yourself can be content to work in a place like this?"

"Two reasons," she said. "The money I make is astronomically abundant, and I like it when the men I find attractive know what I look like naked."

"But what if you have to get naked for men you don't like?"

"I have ways of making such men stay away from me. Believe me, that's not a problem."

"So the men you strip for, do you usually sleep with them?"

"It's been that way for me in the past," she said, "but now I'm thinking about finding Mr. Right, actually."

"Oh? And how do you hope to do that in a place like this, with so many leering pigs?" he asked.

"I got you here, didn't I?" She grinned wickedly, as if confessing her sorcery with her eyes.

His jaw dropped. "I felt s-strangely compelled to come here. Was that somehow your doing? Some kind of witchcraft?"

"No," she lied. "Let's just say you were controlled by a power much too mysterious to comprehend."

"Fate?"

"Maybe."

A new song began, and she got up, swaying her hips to the music. Sensing that he liked seeing her in her dress, she left it on for the first thirty seconds of the song before unzipping herself at the back.

"You are really beautiful," he said.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "Speaking of beautiful,..." She pulled her dress down to her feet. He was delighted and surprised to see that when her dress came off, she was nude, for she hadn't bothered to put her underwear back on after leaving the stage. Those large breasts, and that pretty brown pubic hair, were gloriously on display.

She sat on her chair, facing him, and brought her feet up. She was reaching over to take off her shoes.

"Oh, no!" the high heel fetishist said. "Please, leave them on. Your feet look more beautiful that way."

"OK," she said, then spread her legs out wide. He was as amazed by the casual look on her face as he was by her blatant display of her pussy. Indeed, he coveted her seeming self-confidence as much as he did her body.

Then she got up, turned around, spread her legs out wide, and bent over. Again, she looked back at him, upside-down from between her legs, with a perfectly content expression as the earthy beauty of her caramel asshole and strawberry eclair pussy were showing, just inches from his mesmerized face. The timid man could not understand her lack of inhibition, but it excited fantasies in him that he had stored away deep inside his mind.

Several more table dances went by, with her occasionally grinding on his hard-on, to confirm her psychic calculation that his cock was a thick seven inches.

At the end of his fourth table dance, she rested a while, since he wanted to cool off his embarrassing lechery and just talk to her. The sensitive man wanted her to know he respected her, in spite of her job, and in spite of his hunger for her.

"Is it OK if I take off my shoes for a minute, sir?" she asked. "My feet hurt."

"Of course," he said.

Taking off her shoes, she said, "I know you like me better with my shoes on, and I want to please you, but my feet are killing me. I may have blisters." She put her sore feet on his pointy lap. "Could you rub 'em for me, please?"

"I'd love to," he said, gently massaging away.

She didn't have blisters, but there was chafing. "Here," she said, spreading her legs as he rubbed. "I'll let you see my pussy for free, as a thank-you for soothing my feet." He blushed, and tried to look furtively at her cunt while seeming to look only at her feet. She used Nigrovum to make the chafing go away within seconds, but she allowed him to continue rubbing, since she knew he was enjoying it.

"I'm going to have to go now," he said with the most sincere of reluctance. "I have some things to do at home tonight."

"OK," she said, pulling her feet down and putting her shoes back on. "I'll see you in York soon."

"Yeah," he said, getting up and beginning to walk away. "Bye."

"Oh, wait, she said, getting up and, still naked, following him towards the front door of the strip joint. "I'll walk you out."

"Oh? Don't you want to put your dress back on first?" He had his hand on the door.

"No, that's OK. People see me naked all the time. I want to please you by letting you see my body for a longer time."

"Oh, OK." He opened the door with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. She followed him out onto the sidewalk. He watched the cars go by, hoping he wouldn't see a police car.

She turned around for him. "OK, sir, get one last good look at me."

"Oh, please, call me Cameron." He blushed as he looked up and down at her soft, peach-coloured buttocks. Some people passing by were taking out their cell-phones and getting pictures of her.

"But sir," she said, spreading her legs and bending over so he could see her asshole and pussy again. "It doesn't feel right, me calling you by your first name. As my teacher, you're my superior; I should show you the proper respect."

"Oh, no," he said, his face turning from red to purple, and hoping no one he knew saw him with her. "I'm n-not superior to anyone; I'm barely anyone's equal. Please, just call me Cameron. It would make me feel m-much better."

"OK, I'll do whatever you want--Cameron." She spread her labia and anus wide open for him.

"I'd better go, as m-much as I don't want to." He couldn't cease to be amazed at her boundless security with her body.

"OK, did you get a good look?"

"A most complete look. You're absolutely flawless, Camilla. Good-night." He walked away, looking back furtively at her body.

"Bye," she said, then straightened up and casually went back into the strip joint.

*****************

The following week, blonde Camilla saw Dr. Fox walking along the York campus towards the building where his office was. She, in a tight pink T-shirt and jeans, ran up to him.

"HI sir--I mean, Cameron," she said in her 'Kitty' voice.

"Oh, hi," he said, smiling and genuinely delighted to see her.

"Going to your office?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," he said.

"Can I come with you?"

"Sure."

Right after they got in his office and she closed and locked the door, she undid her jeans button and began unzipping herself.

"W-wait a minute," he said, sitting at his desk. "Maybe you shouldn't do that here."

"I locked the door, sir," she said, pulling down her jeans and showing off her light green panties. "We won't get in any trouble." She then began taking off her runners and socks.

"Maybe not," he said, remembering old rumours about a girl--sometimes blonds, sometimes black-haired--seducing York profs right on the campus and in their offices. Since he'd seen her with her black-haired 'Goth' look in his classes the previous year, he was getting nervous. "Maybe no one will know, but frankly, I'll still feel uncomfortable."

"Why?" she asked, pulling off her T-shirt and revealing her light green bra. "You've already seen everything, and if I'm not uncomfortable with it, neither should you be." She sensed, nonetheless, that he knew she was the rumoured York slut. "OK, I won't take any more off. Look, men like it when girls take their clothes off, and I just want to please you." She sat on his lap, delighted with the bulge pushing up from his crotch.

"You know, you're a very wicked young lady."

"Well, I won't be a bad girl if you don't want me to be," she said, switching from her 'Kitty' persona to her shy, insecure 'Angel' persona.

"Well, I do want you to be bad...and at the same time, I don't."

"I'll do whatever you want me to do," she said.

"Why do you want to do whatever I want?" he asked.

"Oh, I-I don't know. I just want you to like me." She shyly frowned.

"Why is that so important to you?"

"Look, I'm a bad girl, but I wanna change, and be good. I've done a lot of bad stuff in my life, and I wanna change...and redeem myself." She, as 'Angel', began softly sobbing on his shoulder.

"You're that naughty girl on campus everyone talks about, aren't you? Sometimes blonde, sometimes black-haired, causing scandals with all the profs."

"Yeah, but I'll stop being bad...for you." She looked in his eyes almost fearfully, hoping he would see the sincerity on her face.

Now seeing the insecure girl underneath the uninhibited one he'd been so awed by, he felt all the more drawn to her. He could see the human being behind the goddess. "Oh, OK. Don't cry. I'll give you a chance to change."




Camilla Ch. 096



"Thank you, sir--I mean, Cameron." She stopped crying, got up, and looked around his office, eyeing the books on a shelf on the wall opposite where his desk was. "Wow, you're really smart. You read such interesting stuff."

"Thank you," he said, getting up and joining her. He put his arm around her waist. "So are you, my budding young scholar. I understand you're working on a PhD now."

"Yeah. I wanna be an English lit prof like my daddy, Agape Mennon."

"Oh, that's right. You're his daughter. I remember that story about the crazy ex-priest who killed your dad. How awful."

Shaking from knowing the truth about her father's death, she nonetheless kept up the pretence. "Yeah, that sick bastard. I'll never trust religion again."

"You obviously have a lot of pain in you," Cameron said. "I want you to know that I'm here for you, whenever you need somebody."

"Thank you, Cameron. You're so sweet to me, and such a gentleman. You behaved so well last night when I was stripping for you. I appreciate that; not many guys want to treat strippers with respect."

"I don't see anyone as lower than me, even unfortunate people who do unpleasant work. And I know that underneath that bad girl, there's a lady waiting to come out."

"Standing in her underwear," she said, giggling. "You should come to my home sometime. Let me cook you dinner."

"I'd love that."

"Is there any food that's off-limits to you, for religious, or whatever reasons?"

"Not at all. Make anything you like."

"OK; how about you come over tonight at nine?"

"Perfect," he said.

"Great," she said, getting her new name card out of her purse and giving it to him. It had the address of Candice's old apartment on it, since Camilla was hoping for more than just dinner with Cameron.

***************

He arrived at her door in a dark blue suit. She, still blonde, opened the door wide, revealing herself in her birthday suit. "Hi," she said in her 'Kitty' voice again, grinning as she bore it.

"C-Camilla," he said. "I thought you were going to be good."

"I'm being good," she said, stepping aside so he could enter her apartment.

"Naked?" he asked.

"Not completely. I'm wearing high heels for you."

"Very well; you do have something on." She led him to the dinner table, and he sat down. The meal she was cooking was just about ready, and she served it a minute or so later. It was tortellini. He put some in his mouth. "Wow! This is good. What a great cook you are."

"Thanks," she said. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, she thought.

"When you become a professor," he asked, "What do you want to specialize in? Which writers?"

"Oh, I was thinking maybe Herman Melville. I think Moby-Dick is an amazing novel."

"Wow, that's a hard one."

"Part of my doctoral thesis will cover it."

After dinner, he went into the living room and sat on the sofa. She went into the kitchen, fixed them some Kahlua and milk drinks, and came over to him with them. After setting the drinks on the coffee table, she sat on his lap. He blushed from his erection, which poked at her wet vulva.

"Don't be embarrassed, sir," she said, picking up her drink. "If you weren't hard, I'd be insulted." She took a sip.

"Oh, OK," he said, getting his drink and sipping it.

"You know," she said with a sly smile, "I know a perfect way to cure you of your erection." She put her drink back on the coffee table, then slid down to the floor between his legs.

"Oh? What do you want to do?"

"What do you think?" she asked, looking up in his eyes, grinning lewdly, and putting her fingers on his pants zipper.

"Wait, no."

"You don't want a blow job?" she asked in disbelief.

"Please, don't degrade yourself for me. I-it wouldn't be right."

"How so?"

"I-I'm not worthy of such an honour," he said, frowning. "Don't lower yourself just for me."

"What do you mean you're not worthy? Of course you are," she insisted. "You're a brilliant man. I really admire you as a teacher; I hope to emulate profs like you when I become one. And performing fellatio is my favourite way to show my admiration for a great man like you."

"Oh, come now. I'm nothing." He looked down at the floor with a shamed face.

"Says who?"

"So my father used to say."

"What would he say?"

"Well, he often used to say that I disappointed him. He wanted me to be a businessman or a lawyer, but I loved literature. He called me effeminate and weak for wanting to study such a thing. Nothing I ever did was good enough for him. Not even getting my doctorate would impress him."

"How awful," she said, sensing a profound pain in his heart. "Well, I say his opinions don't count."

"He was my father, Camilla," Cameron said, on the verge of tears. "It's really hard when...your own family won't respect you. You just can't fight that off." He began sobbing.

Camilla knew that kind of pain...all too well. She sat back on his lap and hugged him. Her own mother was never pleased with her; Camilla had wanted to please her father (though in the wrong way), and ended up shaming him. Eros had tried to please her, in the wrong way, too, and it frightened her. She held Cameron and rocked him back and forth like a baby.

Suddenly, it struck her: having qualities of both her father and her son, Cameron would make the ideal husband; Nigrovum truly guided her to the right man. Its power seemed limitless. Camilla psychically felt Cameron's pain, and felt compassion for him, since she'd felt a similar pain throughout much of her life. She looked in his eyes, and really began to love him.

"Let's make love," she said. "If you don't want a blow job, that's OK--maybe some other time. I wanna see if I can heal you through sex."

They went into her bedroom, and he timidly undressed. She lay on the bed on her back, and he, naked, got on top of her in the missionary position.

He slid his hard cock in slowly, looking in her eyes with a mixture of excitement and fear--fear of disappointing her. She looked up at him lovingly, her eyes telling him not to be afraid; she would always accept him.

When he pushed his cock all the way in and poked at her A-spot, she squealed in whistle register.

Startled, he asked, "Did I...hurt you?"

"No," she sighed. "You made...me come. Oh!"

"Oh," he panted. "You're just...sayin' that...to make me...feel better."

"I don't...fake orgasms," she moaned. "Oh! Touch me...down there. You'll know...it was real. Ah!" She came again.

He put his hand between her legs as he kept thrusting; she was soaking wet down there! Was it blood? He brought his hand back up to see--it was come, all right; her come, for he hadn't come yet. He smiled and began fucking more confidently; she smiled to see his new-found confidence. Finally, there was all sex and all love, making Camilla a good girl.

She was now beginning to understand Agape's love for Carrie--a love Camilla had tried to take away from him. She felt pangs of guilt from that realization, but also happiness that she just might finally bring an end to her sex addiction, and have true love, for the first time in her life.

Had Carrie married Agape, she would have taken away so much of his pain. Camilla was remorseful about stopping their marriage, but if she were to marry Cameron, perhaps she might redeem herself, and in death, join her father in the heavenly realms after all.

She came a third time, and he came inside her pussy.

"Uh-oh," he said. "I just came, and without...a condom."

"No matter," she said in sighs. "If I'm pregnant, I can get...an abortion. Or I can have...the baby, if you want."

"It's not what...I want that matters. It's what...you want. You'll be...the pregnant one. What do you want?"

"To make you happy."

***************

They continued to date and have sex over the next month, and quickly realized that they were in love. In fact, so impetuous was this love that they decided to get married...and they did, six months later, in the church Don Josiah used to preach in.

Though Eros' Oedipal feelings had been successfully suppressed by Camilla's psychic powers, the boy was still jealous and visibly annoyed with Cameron, his new step-father, this 'intruder' in his life.

Every afternoon when they all came home, living in Camilla's house, Cameron would see the boy and try to win the boy over.

"Hi, Eros," Cameron would say in a friendly, affectionate tone.

Eros would coldly walk away without saying anything, and sensitive Cameron would frown and fight against his discouragement.

Camilla would frown, too, then say something like, "Don't worry, Cameron. He'll learn to love you in time," even though her psychic feelings never gave her any indication that the boy would change his attitude.

Eros would frown from not knowing at all how he could get rid of Cameron, though the boy could always dream...and wish...

Camilla managed to be a good, loyal, and faithful wife for quite some time; indeed, she was quite surprised with her self-control. Focusing all her energy on her doctoral thesis, and replacing sex with meditation, she'd effectively lowered her horniness.

Similarly, she was being terrorized far less frequently by the masked men. They were most annoyed with the draining of their power. One night, they got together in Ontario Premier Garth Van Duyne's house to discuss what would be done with her, during one of their rituals. Nude Mercedes was also with them, being gang-banged by three of them while Garth and the others watched in a circle in his guest room, as they all had with Veronica.

"Our power is fading," Garth said in thinly concealed frustration. "My approval ratings have gone way down."

"It's a problem," a masked man sitting beside him said. "Camilla has actually managed to be monogamous--I can't believe it!"

"She never even got Cameron to switch to supporting the Green Party!" Garth said. "Now that she's quit her stripping job at Club Ritz, apparently for good, she isn't getting any of the men who go there to vote Green Party, either."

"She's moving in the direction of her father, Dr. Singh, and that ex-priest she used to fuck," said a third masked man, sitting on the other side of Garth. "As she gets more and more psychically connected to everything around her, she may find out what we've been doing, and oppose us."

"That's unlikely," Garth said. "We've set up such strong barriers that, even with her developing abilities, she won't know it's been us who have been assailing her over the past few years. Still, without the energy of her nymphomania, we won't ever be as powerful as we've been. Something has to be done."

The men gang-banging Mercedes had pulled their cocks out of her pussy, asshole, and mouth, and were now standing around her in a circle. They briefly jerked themselves off and sprayed bukkake all over her face. She, in a trance, just passively received all that was happening around her.

"What will we do?" asked another masked man.

"First, we'll take care of Mercedes," Garth said, taking out a small knife from his blazer pocket and putting it to her throat. "This should give us at least some power until we get Camilla back." He slit Mercedes' throat, and she fell down on the come-soaked floor, dead. "With this power, we'll send some tempting energy not only to Camilla, but also to Cameron, and even to her son, Eros. It will be done so subtly that she won't know it's been anyone else but herself, her husband, and her son." The masked men visualized their teeth as those of lions, and within seconds, they all had such teeth. "Bon appetit, gentlemen."

*****************

Camilla was in her bedroom one evening, meditating. She felt a beautiful peace within seconds. Indeed, with each meditation session, she was beginning to sense that infinite ocean, that mystical oneness that Dr. Singh, Agape, and Don used to talk about. Everything around her felt connected with her.

After that initial peace, however, she would increasingly feel a vague anxiety; for now that she was more psychically connected with all the souls of the world, she could more vividly feel those souls in her past that she'd touched...and hurt. She no longer knew only her own memories, but also theirs, along with their experiences, and their pain--a pain she'd often caused.

Indeed, she could feel the killing of Mercedes by--as of then--unknown murderers. That infinite ocean no longer felt like a peaceful sea, but like a perfect storm to drown in, her dead body floating in it aimlessly forever. She vaguely felt the evil presence of the masked men, a black fog enveloping her, but didn't know it was them.

Also, her more fluid, interconnected perception of the world was making her sense of identity less sure, less stable. With her vivid perception of the memories and experiences of others, she no longer felt as though she--Camilla--was a separate entity to be distinguished from all the other entities around her.

She'd always pretended to be other people: there were all her personae--Angel, Kitty, Candy, Marilyn, and Dolly, for example--and her change from blonde to black-haired 'Goth' look seemed like much more than just a physical transformation. But now the boundary between herself and others made it seem almost as though someone else was actually pretending to be her, as well as her being other people. Who was Camilla? Was she someone else? Was she you? Am I Camilla? The pantheistic blurring of the boundaries between Atman and Brahman, where they, you, and I meet, was not at all consoling for her. The more she knew, the less she knew.

*****************

Garth was meditating in his home that evening, too: he was the one who'd been visualizing that black fog surrounding Camilla, making it so frightening a thing to contemplate that she would be increasingly reluctant to meditate; and he was making her sense that black fog that very evening as well.

Good, he thought; soon, she'll be completely turned off of spirituality, and the old, slutty Camilla will be back, and ours to manipulate once again. That girl's putty in my hands. Next, we'll have to get her to want promiscuous sex again, while thinking it was all her doing, and never suspecting our influence. It shouldn't be too hard.

*****************

While the masked man had been worried about losing their hold on Camilla back then, they were also worried about losing their power over her in the public aquarium in Montreal.

"Her lust levels are at an all-time low," one masked man said in a house not too far away from the aquarium. "Everything's slowing down. She's deliberately reliving some very non-sexual memories, and going through them very slowly, to reduce her lust. This can't go on, for we won't get that tank water to have as much lust-energy as we'd planned. What are we going to do?"

"She has a definite plan," said another masked man. "She finally knows what we're doing, now that she's reliving all her old memories, and is seeing what she hadn't seen before. She's trying to stop us."

"She won't succeed," the Prime Minister said, adjusting his mask. "As she continues figuring out what happened to get her naked body hovering over the water of that fish tank, she will have to relive some very sexy memories...and some sexy memories are soon coming."



Camilla Ch. 097



As Camilla's unconscious body continued receiving gang-bangs from incubi in the Montreal aquarium, the spirits of Don, Agape, and Candice were discussing her somewhat improved situation in a mental conversation with Dr. Singh.

Camilla's self-control right now is the best she's shown since her first year of marriage to Cameron, Don observed. There's been very little lewdness in her thoughts.

Yes, Agape agreed. By focusing on every detail of that first year, with her convenient photographic memory, she's brought to a minimum the levels of lust-energy in the Nigrovum she's ejaculating.

And that is weakening the masked men's power, Candice added. She just has to give up her life, so this whole nightmare can end.

But she won't, Dr. Singh communicated psychically from Vancouver. Not at least until she mentally relives her memory of what happened to her son over a week ago, and knows of the masked men's involvement in it, and in every step of the way leading up to it.

Knowing where Eros is, she'll immediately want to help him, Candice told them. Though she won't be able to.

We could tell her about Eros now, Don psychically said. If she'd only regain consciousness and listen to us.

As she continues to unravel the mystery, Agape noted, she'll inevitably relive sexier memories again, and soon.

Oh, well, Singh concluded. It'd been a pleasant rest from concupiscence, while it lasted. We all must do as much as we can with our own power to compromise that of the masked men before they get stronger again.

As the invisible cocks of the incubi continued pumping in and out of Camilla's mouth, not-so-lubricated pussy, and asshole, a new body fluid was mixing with the water she was hovering over: her blood. The masked men were content with this, since they could also use the pain and trauma in her Nigrovum energy, to their advantage, in their mind manipulation of the masses.

*************

Camilla was reliving a memory from eleven years before her ordeal in the Montreal public aquarium; one September night in her house in Toronto, when she was twenty-six, her seven-year-old son was asleep in his bedroom.

In his dream, he saw three men in grotesque masks approaching him. At first, he was scared, and wanted to run away.

"Don't be afraid," one of them told him. "We're your friends. We're here to help you."

"Help me with what?" Eros asked.

"With getting rid of your stepfather," the second of the masked men said. "We know you don't like him, and we also know you have your mother's powers; you should use them against him."

"How?" Eros asked. "Mommy will know I used my powers, and she'll get mad at me."

"Not if you're really careful," the third of the masked men said. "Look at this picture." They showed Eros an old painting by William Etty, 'Candaules, King of Lydia, Shews His Wife by Stealth to Gyges, One of his Ministers, As She Goes to Bed." In the painting, Gyges sees her naked. "Use your power to put this image in your stepfather's thoughts. It will excite fantasies in him, which he'll want to act out with your mother, and she won't link those fantasies with your tempting him with them. His acting out the fantasies will lead to him eventually going away."

"But it's just a picture," Eros said. "How will a picture make him go away?"

"It will, we promise," the first masked man said. "The less you know how, the better. Just trust us."

37-year-old Camilla watched this vision with horror. Her expanded consciousness, gotten from years of exploiting all the psychic potential in the Nigrovum in her blood, made it possible for her to relive not only her own memories, but those of other people. She was, indeed, unraveling the mystery behind what had put her in her current predicament; and knowing that the masked men had gotten to her boy terrified her. She was anxious to know what else those bastards may have done to her son.

Eros woke up the next morning, and at every opportunity he had, he thought of that Etty painting--remembering its every detail--and he psychically put a vivid image of it in Cameron's thoughts, several times that day, and on many days afterwards. Constantly, Cameron was being hit with vivid flashbacks of that painting, and he had no idea why he'd found himself suddenly so obsessed with it.

The painting was a favourite of Cameron's, exciting fantasies he'd had for many years; these were fantasies of Candaulism, of a man's desire to display his female lover's nakedness to other people. Cameron knew well the story of King Candaules, as Herodotus had told it in his Histories.

Candaules, proud of his queen's beauty, wanted to prove it to his servant, Gyges; and he ordered him to hide in the king's and queen's bedroom one night. There Gyges could watch Candaules' wife undress, and she'd never know Gyges was there. But when she was naked and going to bed, she noticed him sneaking out of the bedroom.

As revenge for shaming her, the next day she sent for Gyges, insisting that he either kill the king or himself. Gyges chose the former, and became her new husband and king.

Cameron had a beautiful wife, his own queen of whom he was proud; and though she'd reformed from her former promiscuous ways, and had been a faithful and even obedient wife, he imagined she'd be more willing to indulge his proclivities than Candaules' queen had been. After all, Camilla was willingly obedient, happy to cook and clean for Cameron. She did all the duties of the traditional housewife in between her research for her doctoral thesis, all without complaint. Even when he frequently offered to help with the household chores, she insisted that he sit in the living room and watch TV; she'd even bring him a beer as he sat in Agape's old chair.

She did all this lovingly, in order to compensate Cameron for all the years of shaming his father had subjected him to, always calling him 'worthless and weak'. Far from looking at her husband with contempt, as his father had, she had boundless admiration for Cameron's intellect. Indeed, she'd consider it an honour if she could become just half as good a professor as he was, when she finally got her PhD and a teaching job. Playing the role of traditional, obedient wife was also a way for her to put her mind in a completely non-adulterous attitude. She could never do anything Cameron didn't want her to do, and presumably, he didn't want her to be unfaithful. Finally, being subservient was a way of atoning for all the deaths that had been caused by her out-of-control lust. For all these reasons, she was a surprisingly happy patriarchal wife in 21st century Canada.

One day in late September, Cameron built up the nerve to discuss his fantasy with Camilla (in her black-haired 'Goth' look). She, conveniently, wanted to discuss how they could improve their sex life.

"Honey, you know I love you very much," she said, sitting on his lap on the couch in the living room. "But I really wish we could spice up our sex life a bit. All we ever do is vaginal sex: no oral, no anal."

"Oh, but you get no pleasure from that," he said.

"Yes, I do!" she insisted. "How many times do I have to tell you before you'll believe me?"

"But it's so degrading for you," he said.

"Nonsense! I love it, and I want to please you in new and different ways."

"Well, there is one thing we could do...but it's really naughty."

"Name it; I'll do it," she said.

"No, it's going too far," he said in half-feigned bashfulness.

"Tell me. I wanna go too far. I wanna be naughty, if it will please you."

"OK, but if you don't want to do it, we won't."

"What is it?" she asked impatiently.

"Do you think Dr. Hewitt is handsome?" Cameron asked.

"Well, sure...but he isn't the man I love. You are." She was nervous about what Cameron was implying, and did not allow herself to read his thoughts, out of fear of what they might tempt her to do. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you...to strip naked in front of him. That would really turn me on."

"W-what? That's your fantasy?" she asked in shock at something she'd never used to be shocked about.

"Yes," he answered bluntly. "What's the matter with that? I thought you liked that. You're used to people seeing you naked, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but I've put all that behind me now. I'm your wife. If I did that, it could lead to other things. I don't want to betray you."

"No, but you do want to obey me, don't you?" he asked, looking hard in her eyes.

"I'll always obey you," she said, looking down at her feet. Indeed, she'd come full circle: her desire to be the perfectly submissive, obedient wife had gone all the way around that ouroboros, the circular continuum that led from one extreme opposite to the other. To obey her husband, she had to cuckold him, or at least risk it.

"Will you do it?"

"Yes, OK, I'll do it. But we're controlling this, so it won't get out of hand. You'll be with Dr. Hewitt and me the whole time."

"Of course. How can I enjoy my fantasy if I'm not there?"

Eros was in his bedroom, psychically sensing that his plan had worked, though it had succeeded in some vague way that he was too young to understand. He just sat on the floor with his toys, and smiled.

*******************

The next day, Dr. Hewitt, another York professor, was invited to Camilla's house. Eros was at a friend's house for the whole day, so she and Cameron didn't need to worry about the boy seeing the naughtiness they were about to engage in. With her original blonde, peach-skinned look, she was wearing an aqua-coloured dress with flower patterns on it, quite an old-fashioned thing to be wearing; she also had her usual heavy makeup on, and high heels.

She made lunch for them all, then served them drinks in the living room. Dr. Hewitt was sitting on the sofa, and Cameron was sitting on Agape's old chair. Camilla stood in the middle of the living room, facing Hewitt.

"Well, what shall I do for you now?" she, always the obedient wife, asked Cameron.

Looking over at Hewitt, Cameron asked him, "She is beautiful, isn't she?"

"Well, yes," Hewitt said, blushing. But are you sure that's an appropriate thing to talk about? I'm sure you're making your wife feel uncomfortable."

"Oh, not at all," Cameron said. "Camilla likes it, actually. Sweetheart, why don't you take all your clothes off, but keep your heels on, for you know how much I like heels. Show him how lovely you look naked."

"Yes, my husband," she said, grinning and unbuttoning her dress.

"W-wait a minute," Hewitt said, shocked. "What are you--?"

"Don't be embarrassed, Dr. Hewitt," she said, dropping her dress on the floor and revealing her white lace bra and panties. "If I'm not embarrassed, you needn't be. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show."

So they're into kink, thought Hewitt, enjoying his erection as she removed her bra with her usual wiggle of her tits; then she pulled down her panties.

"How do I look?" the grinning naked woman asked Hewitt, turning around for him.

"Divine," he panted. "Are you sure you're OK with this, both of you?"

"Do we seem not OK with it?" Cameron asked. "Only you seem not OK with it."

Camilla got on the floor on all fours, pointing her ass and spread-out legs at Hewitt, and showing off her pussy and asshole. She looked back at him with eyes that asked him if what he saw pleased him.

"What's n-not to be OK with?" Hewitt asked, still not believing what he was seeing, but getting very excited all the same.

She got on her back, and spread and raised up her legs so he could see her pussy and asshole the other way. "Does my body turn you on?" she asked.

"Y-yeah. Thank you, Cameron, for being so g-generous with your wife," he said nervously.

"Now," Cameron said. "Would you like to have sex with her?"

Now not only did Hewitt look at Cameron with shock, but so did Camilla. Sure, she and Hewitt found each other attractive, but things were quickly spiralling out of control!

"Cameron, this is going too far!" Hewitt said.

"I thought you were enjoying this," Cameron said.

Camilla, torn between temptation and her wish to stay a reformed woman, did a psychic scan of Cameron. Yes, he definitely wanted Hewitt to fuck her, right in front of him. This is how he wanted to spice up their sex life. She could feel how sexually excited her husband was to contemplate being made a cuckold, for she psychically noted the hard-on in his pants. He wasn't testing her fidelity to him: his self-esteem was so low, he really wanted to be made a cuckold. Feeling her ability to resist temptation disintegrate, and wanting to be the obedient wife--all the way--she reconciled herself to her husband's desires. She now eagerly waited for Hewitt's cock to pump inside her.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Hewitt asked. "And you, Camilla?"

"I'm ready to let you enjoy me," she said, "since I know it will please my husband."

"Really?" Hewitt asked again.

"Take my wife, please," Cameron said calmly. "But I get to watch." Now he was grinning wickedly.

"Oh, OK, then," Hewitt said, and Camilla took him by the hand and led him to the stairs. He went up first, eyeing the door to Cameron's and Camilla's bedroom.

"We're controlling this," Camilla whispered in Cameron's ear as they followed Hewitt up the stairs. "You tell us what you want us to do; we'll do only that."

"Oh, enjoy yourself, Camilla," Cameron said. "You know you want to fuck him." They all went into the bedroom, and Cameron lay on his back on the bed. "OK, Camilla, get on the floor on all fours beside the bed. Help him take his clothes off." Cameron lit a cigarette and calmly watched.

Camilla, kneeling before Hewitt, unzipped and unbuttoned his pants as he took off his shirt. She pulled his pants and underwear down, smiling in delight at the size of her lover's big cock, then she looked back at Cameron, hoping her lustful reaction wouldn't upset him. Cameron, always fully dressed, just lay on the bed, smoking with a smile.

Hewitt, a little embarrassed by his nakedness, squatted down, facing Camilla. "What do you want us to do?" she asked Cameron.

"Start with some kissing," Cameron said, puffing away. "Play with his dick."

"OK," Camilla said, then she began softly pecking Hewitt on the lips while fondling his hard-on.

"Grab her tits," Cameron told Hewitt. He gently squeezed them. "No, harder than that; be aggressive."

Hewitt did so, and Camilla squealed in pain, but obediently tolerated whatever her husband wanted her to do.

"Lie on the floor, Hewitt," Cameron said. Hewitt lay on his back. "Sit on his face, Camilla."

"Yes, my husband," she said, then went over to Hewitt's head and slowly lowered her pussy and ass onto his face. She was facing Hewitt's cock; he was sniffing her butt, sticking his tongue up her cunt, and fingering her clitoris. She continued fondling his cock. She looked up at Cameron, who was now sitting on the side of the bed to get a better look. She was relieved to see that her husband was enjoying what he saw. She looked back at Hewitt's cock. Sighing at the sensation of his tongue, lips, and fingers, she asked Cameron, "Do you want me to--?"

"Yes," Cameron said. "Suck his cock."

"Yes, sir," she said, then leaned forward so she and Hewitt were in the sixty-nine position. She gluttonously took his cock halfway inside her salivating mouth, while he raised his head and continued eating her pussy.

Hewitt began fingering her asshole, opening it up wide and trying to look inside. He was impressed with how immaculate she was all over, and was hoping for a chance to fuck her ass.

"Lick her asshole, Hewitt," was Cameron's next command.

Hewitt brought his head up and began licking and flickering his tongue against those beautiful brown wrinkles. He slid his finger inside her pussy, rubbing it against her G-spot. Her head was going up and down on his cock in a frenzy now. Squealing at higher and higher pitches, she soon came all over Hewitt's neck and chest.

"Holy shit!" he said in surprise.

"Eat it," Cameron ordered him. Hewitt scooped up as much of her come off his neck and chest as he could, then put it in his mouth. "Good," Cameron said. "Now lick the rest off her pussy." Hewitt licked it all off. "OK, now get off of him, sweetie; let him put his cock in your pretty little pussy."

"Yes, my husband," she said, getting on the floor beside Hewitt on all fours. He got behind her, and happily aimed his cock at her cunt, though he still hoped he would soon stick it up that pretty asshole she was so generously showing off to him. He slowly slid his cock in her pussy. "Oh, oh, oh!"

As soon as Hewitt's cock got all the way in and poked against her A-spot, she screamed and came all over his thighs. That felt so good! She hadn't had a fuck as hot as this since before she'd married Cameron, over a year ago! Hewitt was thrusting away aggressively, looking at and coveting her sweet asshole.

After another minute or so of watching Hewitt fucking his wife's pussy, Cameron noticed how her lover was always ogling her asshole. "OK," Cameron said. "Pull your cock out of her pussy, Hewitt, and stick it in her ass."

"Alright!" Hewitt groaned, eagerly pulling out. Camilla used her psychic powers to cause lubricating moisture to appear all over her anal orifice and rectal walls. "What the--? How'd you do that?"

"I'm divine, remember?" she said. "Pop it in; my husband wants you to ass-fuck me."

Hewitt slowly pushed the tip of his cock against her welcoming anal orifice; she looked back at him and smiled as his cock slowly went in, inch by inch. Then she looked over at Cameron, hoping not to see a frown of jealousy on his face. But all her husband did was watch and smile.

Hewitt got his cock all the way in, and slid it in and out, in and out. He loved the tightness of those anal lips; this was his first anal fuck ever, and he was so glad Camilla was being receptive. The prettiest asshole he'd ever seen on a woman, a married woman, and she so blithely showed it to him, and allowed him to fuck it! This afternoon was a dream come true!

This was also her first anal in over a year, and she now remembered just what she'd been missing! Oh, how good it felt to have a long, thick cock probing and exploring her rectal tunnel, and rubbing against the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall. She squealed and squealed with pleasure, and after a few minutes of ass-fucking, she had an anal orgasm.

"Great," Cameron said. "Now for some ass-to-mouth. Take your cock out of her ass, stand up, and put it in her mouth."

Hewitt did as he was told, and Camilla turned around and knelt before his still fully-erect cock. She looked up into his eyes and began licking the underside of his cock, where his bulging corpus spongiosum was. Then, after kissing and licking the tip of his cock a few times, she took it all the way inside her mouth, deep-throating him. She played with his balls as she kept the full length of his cock inside her, his pubic hair tickling her face.




Camilla Ch. 097



"When you're about to come, Hewitt, take your cock out of her mouth and come on her face," Cameron said, taking out another cigarette and lighting it.

Camilla's skills at cock-sucking hadn't withered away at all: it was just like riding a bike. So eager was she to suck dick again, that she showed particular ability this time; and Hewitt could feel himself ready to blow after only a minute or so of getting this blow job. He pulled his cock out, and Camilla knelt there, all ready for her facial. He splattered his come in her right eye, on her nose, on her left cheek, on her lips, on her left eye, and on her chin. He looked down at her in amazement as his come dripped down her cheeks.

"Did you enjoy that, sir?" Camilla asked Cameron.

"That was fantastic," he said, puffing on his cigarette. "Hewitt, how do like my wife as a lover?"

Hewitt, reaching for his clothes, said, "All I can say...is that I envy...how you can...have her...every night." He began putting his clothes back on.

"Indeed," Cameron said. "OK, let's all go back downstairs and have another drink or two. Camilla."

"Yes, Cameron," she said, the come still dripping off her mouth. She got up and went with Cameron out of the bedroom while Hewitt finished getting dressed.

They all went back down into the living room. Camilla stayed naked for the rest of Hewitt's visit, and even left his come to drip off her face. She fixed the men some more drinks, and sat with them in the living room.

What a kinky couple, Hewitt thought as he sipped the drink Camilla gave him. Well, if they both like it, I guess there's no harm done. That hot wife of his sure is a great fuck. They'll surely be the gossip of the York campus, if they keep doing stuff like that with their guests.

"What do you think, Hewitt?" Cameron asked. "Do you think your come will make a good facial cream?"

Hewitt looked at Camilla, his come still dripping down her face, and laughed. "Maybe it'll reduce ageing."

No need, Camilla thought. I have Nigrovum for that. Speaking of which...

She looked deeply into Hewitt's eyes. He felt himself strangely unable to move his eyes away from her gaze.

"When you leave here today, you'll forget everything that happened after our lunch," she said.

"When I leave here today, I'll forget everything that happened after our lunch," he repeated.

"You will leave now," she said.

"I will leave now," he repeated, then finished his drink with one swig, picked up his jacket, and walked out the front door.

"Bye," Cameron said.

"Bye," Hewitt said.

Camilla looked at Cameron. "Cameron, I just committed adultery, right in front of you. Are you sure you're not upset with that?" she asked him.

"I'm positive," he reassured her. "As long as we control it, it's fine with me. Your psychic powers are very convenient that way; we don't have to worry about gossip. Don't worry about anything. You wanted to spice up our sex life, and we just did." Besides, he thought, I was finally able to satisfy my Candaulism, and I allowed the wife I love so much to have a lover much worthier than myself.

******************

Because Hewitt was made to forget what had happened that afternoon, he never got to enjoy Camilla again. As the months went by, she and Cameron found more men to indulge his fantasies; these men would also be made to forget the sex as soon as it was all finished.

The masked men, always monitoring Camilla, thought, Like mother, like daughter: married Camilla swings, just as Collette used to do when Camilla was a child. She's now indulging in all the extra-marital sex she used to secretly watch her mother have at those key parties she hosted with Camilla's stepdad, back when Camilla was ten. It's all coming full circle now.

While Camilla was enjoying hot sex again without fear of divorce, she was still feeling guilty about having more sex than her husband. She was also missing the joy of lesbian sex; both of these problems suddenly inspired her, one night in April, with a kinky idea.

She went up to Cameron in the living room and sat on his lap. "I have an idea that I think will spice up our sex life even more," she said.

"Oh?" he asked. "What's that?"

"Let's have a threesome with another woman," she blurted out. "Let's go out to a dance bar tonight, find a bisexual girl, and take her home. You can watch me make love with her, and I'm more than happy to let you fuck her, too."

"Oh, uh, OK," he said nervously. "Since our marriage has gotten pretty open over this past half year, why not? If that's what you want, and as long as we can control it, the way we do with the men."

"Great. Let's go," she said. "We'll get Emily to watch over Eros at her apartment again. It's been great having her watch Eros again, whenever we want to swing. I sure missed having her around to take care of my boy when we got married." 

They took Eros to Emily's apartment, then drove to a dance club in downtown Toronto. They went in and looked around, dazzled by the lights and pounding electronic beat.

"Remember, we'll control this, as always, OK?" she yelled in Cameron's ear. "We'll agree on the girl we want, we'll have her for only one night, with no strings attached, and make her forget all about it the next day."

"Right," he said. "As always, we'll follow our rules: we mustn't develop feelings for her, and she mustn't develop feelings for us."

They looked around the bar, and suddenly Camilla recognized a slim, pretty Korean-Canadian girl she knew in her graduate class, with Cameron as their teacher, two years before. Camilla knew that this Asian girl once had the hots for her and for Cameron, from having psychically scanned her back then. While no sex had materialized then, now everything was wonderfully convenient for Camilla's purposes.

"Cameron," she said. "Do you remember the cute Asian girl over there? We were both in your class."

He looked over at the Asian. "Oh, yeah, I remember teaching her."

"Do you like her? I sure do."

"Oh, yeah; but she won't like me. I'm too old."

"Oh, Cameron, stop putting yourself down. She likes you. I know she does. I did a psychic scan on her back in our class together, and I learned she has the hots for you. I'll get her to be in our threesome. Wait here." Camilla went up to the girl, who was wearing a tight black dress, high heels, and heavy makeup. "Connie?" Camilla yelled over the loud music. "Connie Park? Hi! How are you?" The girls hugged.

"Oh, fine," Connie said, ogling Camilla in her sexy red dress, heels, and whore-bright makeup.

"Remember Dr. Fox? Our old prof?" Camilla asked.

"Oh, yeah," Connie said. "He's so handsome."

"Yeah. He and I got married. Can you believe that?"

"Get outta here! You married that good-looking guy?"

"Yep. He's right over there," Camilla said, indicating where he was sitting. "What do you think? Is he still hot?"

"Well, uh, yeah; but I shouldn't be talking to you about that. He's your husband. Lucky girl."

"You can get lucky, too."

"Only if I can find a guy as great as him; but I don't think I will tonight."

"I beg to differ," Camilla insisted.

"Where will I find a guy like him tonight?" Connie asked, totally confused as to what Camilla was getting at.

"I don't mean 'find a guy like him', I mean 'find him'," Camilla said.

"What?"

"I have a proposition for you. Cameron and I are looking for a bisexual woman to have a threesome with us tonight. Since you like both of us, and we both like you, we'd like to offer you the chance to have a little fun with us."

Connie just looked at Camilla in shock, though the idea of having sex with her and Cameron wasn't without appeal to her. "You've got to be kidding me," she said.

"Look, Connie, I know you like both of us. I'll be happy to let you have sex with my husband, because he needs more self-confidence, and he's a great man, who I love and want to please in every way I can. He actually likes to watch me have sex with other men. He and I are swingers: we have an open marriage, and we'd like you to have a chance to get in on the fun."

"You're sickos," Connie said. "You have a soon-to-die marriage, and as much as I'd like to have a chance to get in on the fun, I'm too decent a person to--"

"We will all have sex tonight," Camilla said, looking deep into Connie's eyes.

"We will all have sex tonight," Connie repeated in a monotone voice.

"We will all have fun," Camilla continued.

"We will all have fun," Connie said.

"You won't develop feelings for us, though."

"I won't develop feelings for you, though."

"Nor will we for you."

"Nor will you for me."

"After tonight, you'll forget what happened."

"After tonight, I'll forget what happened."

"And you'll vote Green Party."

"And I'll vote Green Party."

Twenty minutes later, they were all back in Camilla's house. They went upstairs to the bedroom and got undressed. Camilla and Connie got on the bed together, with Connie on top. Cameron sat on the side of the bed and watched the girls make love.

Camilla looked up into Connie's beautiful, expressive eyes as they gently kissed. Camilla was delighted with Connie's skinny body and small breasts, which reminded her of Li-ping. The vulnerability and sadness Camilla saw in Connie's eyes made her think of Akemi. As Camilla gently kissed and caressed Connie's body, she imagined herself trying to comfort those two other Asian girls she'd led to destruction, eight years before.

Cameron smiled as he saw the girls making love. He wanted to show that kind of sweetness when he made love with his wife, but felt too incompetent in bed. That's why he wanted to see other men make love with her. In spite of all of Camilla's attempts to repair his broken self-esteem, he still felt inadequate, and felt unworthy of having such a hot wife. He needed to see other lovers satisfying her.

"Come join us, Cameron," Camilla said. "We're waiting."

"Oh, uh, OK," he said, then lay on the bed with them. Camilla sat on his cock and fed it in, while Connie sat on his face. Facing each other, the girls could continue kissing and fondling each other while Cameron pleased them from below. It was hard for Connie and Camilla to kiss, with all of Camilla's bouncing on his cock, but they managed to get in a few pecks on the lips all the same.

Camilla's squeals and screams grew louder and higher, and she came all over Cameron's lap. Then the girls switched positions: Connie fed his cock into her tiny little pussy, and Camilla sat on his face.

"You sure...this is OK, Camilla?" Connie asked as his cock got in half way. "Oh!"

"Yeah, sure," Camilla said, enjoying the first cunnilingus she'd ever gotten from her husband. "Have fun. Ah!"

His cock got all the way inside Connie's cunt, and she was riding him and squealing as Camilla had been. Connie reached over and fondled Camilla's tits, while Camilla reached over and touched Connie's small tuft of pubic hair.

As Camilla watched Connie enjoy her husband's cock, she imagined it being Akemi, or Li-ping, enjoying him. This is why Camilla always had a thing for Asian girls, because they reminded her of how she had hurt that Japanese girl and Taiwanese girl. Having sex with Asian girls felt like atonement to Camilla, for she could imagine that she was with Akemi or Li-ping, healing their pain with her kisses and caresses. She felt so much remorse for all she had done in her life, and she could only fantasize about how to resolve her troubles.

Camilla came all over Cameron's face, and Connie was close to coming, though her pussy was in pain from the size of his cock. She got off of him, and Camilla went down on her pussy, licking away. Connie liked Camilla's sensitive lips and tongue much better, getting wetter and wetter very quickly, then coming her ooze, which Camilla licked away.

***************

Connie left their house the next day, and as soon as she was on the bus to her apartment, she suddenly felt her memory black out; she had no recollection of where she had been after arriving at the dance club.

Her vagina was still sore, and she feared the worst. Did somebody put the date-rape drug in my drink? she thought.

***************

Now Camilla and Cameron would spice up their sex life with sometimes another man, sometimes another woman (usually Asian) in a threesome. In spite of this risky way to have a marriage, they kept it going well for a while, since they always kept the extra-marital sex well-controlled.

Eros was annoyed that Cameron still hadn't gone away, but the masked men were pleased; for they had broken through Camilla's facade of respectability as a wife, and soon they would cause her to have as much disregard for her sexual partners as she had had before marrying Cameron. She was under their control, once again; and she was even getting her lovers to vote Green Party again. Garth's approval ratings shot right up again, and he was encouraged enough to run for Prime Minister, which he immediately began planning.

***************

By reliving these sexier memories, 37-year-old Camilla was getting more excited as her unconscious naked body continued to hover over the water tank in the Montreal aquarium. Her vagina, once again fully lubricated, was no longer spewing blood, but lustful come. Singh, and the spirits of her loved ones, were not pleased; but the masked men were.



Camilla Ch. 098



The next memory that unconscious Camilla was reliving, in an out-of-body vision, was ten years before her incubi gang-bang predicament in the Montreal aquarium, when she was twenty-seven years old. One night in Toronto in mid-September, she and Cameron were at home, getting dressed and ready to go to a party held in a wealthy banker's large house.

Camilla had had her hair cut to go down to the bottom of her neck, and she used Nigrovum to change her blonde hair to a light brown; she also psychically changed her eye colour to brown, out of a wish for a different look that night. Her complexion was changed to tawny, and the rest of her body had its original colours. Not bothering to put on any underwear, she just wore a low cut, sparkly silver dress and black high heels. The front of the dress showed off a generous amount of cleavage, and the low-cut back came down a millimetre or so above where her anal cleft began. Her face was made up like a prostitute, as usual, and red nail polish covered up her black nails.

Cameron, also with black nails, paler skin, and blacker hair, wore a black tuxedo; he and his wife were hoping to find a lover--male or female--to heighten their pleasure after the party. They drove 8-year-old Eros to Emily's apartment to sleep over for the night. At Emily's open front door, Camilla bent down to kiss Eros good-bye--though she didn't need to bend very much, since he was an unusually big boy. Curious, he looked down her cleavage.

"Sweetie," she gently chided. "Nice boys don't look down their mommies' dresses."

"Sorry," he said, looking away. "Do you really have to go?"

"Oh, it'll only be for tonight," she said. "You'll see us tomorrow."

"I'll miss you, Mommy. Cameron can stay away, though."

"Baby, I don't like it when you talk about him that way. He's your daddy; accept him." She looked firmly at him.

"OK," he said reluctantly.

"OK. Be good, and we'll come and get you first thing tomorrow." She kissed him on the forehead, which he enjoyed despite the 'latency' of his desire; then she straightened up and turned to face Emily. "OK, Emily, he's all yours." Eros started walking into her apartment.

"Bye, little buddy," Cameron said to him. The boy said nothing. Cameron looked down at his shoes with a pout. Emily closed the door with a frown, feeling sad for Cameron. He and Camilla walked sadly toward the elevator. "He still hates me."

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," she said as they got in the elevator.

****************

They arrived at the banker's house about thirty minutes later. As they walked around the large guest room, moving through a sea of people and hoping to find a suitable partner for their bed, Camilla saw Ted Weinstein.

"Ted! Hi!" she said, shaking his hand.

"Hi Camilla; good to see you again," he said. Turning to the man he had just been talking to, he asked, "Have you met Paul Shaw?"

"No," she said, looking at the tall, silver-haired, fifty-something man, and thinking him ideal to help her husband indulge his Candaulism with. "But you're the host of the party tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Paul said.

"This is quite a mansion you have here," Cameron said.

"Thanks," Paul said. "Being CEO of the Toronto headquarters of the Bank of Montreal makes it possible to live this way."

"Oh?" Camilla said. "Did you know a Patrick,...oh, I don't think I ever learned his last name. He used to work in your bank, in First Canadian Place. But he died about nine years ago."

"Blond, good-looking, in his late thirties?" Paul asked, already knowing exactly whom she meant.

"Yeah, that sounds like him," she said.

"Patrick Shaw," Paul said. "My younger brother."

"Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss," she said.

"He'd have gone far in our company, but he often questioned the morals of how we make our profits."

"I see," Cameron said, himself doubtful of the morals of big bankers.

Stay and chat with Ted, Paul mentally told Cameron. "I'm gonna chat with your wife a while, and you'll forget all about me."

Coming out of a brief daze, Cameron looked at Ted and said, "So, Garth Van Duyne won in the federal election. Isn't that amazing, the first Green Party Prime Minister?"

"It's unprecedented," Ted said. "And since I supported him, I have every confidence he'll lead the country in the right direction."

"Come with me, Camilla," Paul said, noting Cameron's being oblivious to him. "Let me show you around my home." Finding him very attractive, Camilla went with him out of the guest room, and away from all those people.

He took her up to the third floor, and into a large, more or less empty room. He left the door wide open.

"Why'd you bring me in here?" she asked. "There's nothing to see here."

"There doesn't need to be anything in here, for our purposes," he said, standing before her. He used his psychic powers to make her dress suddenly fall off. Before the now-naked woman could react, Paul seized control of her mind, making her barely able to move, except very slowly. She just looked at him with a dazed expression, her eyes and mouth agape. His eyes poured all over her body, ogling her tits and pubic hair, which he ran his fingers through. "So this is what the naked--well, Nigrovum-altered--body of Camilla Mennon looks like," he said. "Camilla Fox, I should say, since you married that wimpy lump of a man. Still, his surname works well for you, since you sure are a fox." He took her by the shoulders and turned her around so he could see her pretty round buttocks. "Very nice." He patted them.

He then used his psychic powers to make her slip her feet out of her high heels and slowly walk around the room, allowing him to see her nakedness from all angles. She noted the wide-open door in terror, fearing the scandal of someone seeing her naked there, especially fearing that Cameron would come up looking for her, and find her in a sexual situation with Paul, all without Cameron's consent or involvement. After all, we must remember that her swinging with her husband was supposed to be a controlled adultery, and her publicly exhibitionistic days were supposed to be long gone.

Paul had put a psychic barrier all around their section of the third floor, drowning out the screams of fucking that would soon be heard within it, and ensuring that no one would interfere; still, he wanted her to be frightened enough to think they might be heard and interfered with. Indeed, he was blocking her own psychic abilities to the point that she didn't even know his barrier was protecting them from being caught.

Next, he made her get down on the floor on all floors, with her legs spread out so both her pussy and asshole were showing. She was facing the door, terrified that someone would walk by and see them. He knelt behind her and took off his shoes, pants, and underwear. He aimed his hard cock at her vaginal opening and slowly slid inside; though she was scared, her pussy was wet with the excitement of being terrified.

He pushed his cock all the way in, and when the tip poked against her A-spot, she let out a high-pitched squeal: "Ooh!" After a few more pokes, she gushed out some come.

As he continued fucking her pussy, he mentally communicated the following: The whole time period when you were teasing, and later fucking, my brother, I could feel your lust energy all over him whenever he was in the same room with me at the bank. Since your reputation has preceded you in many more cities than you would care to know, and since I wanted your lust-energy spread among my employees, to make them more obedient to my will, I psychically enticed a female bank teller among them, the slut of the staff, to lure Patrick into having sex with him one night. Camilla screamed in whistle register and came again, then Paul pulled his soaking wet cock out of her cunt and aimed it at her asshole. He used Nigrovum to lubricate the orifice and her rectum thoroughly, then he slid his cock inside slowly. She just moaned softly at the feeling of the widening of her asshole, and looked out that doorway, desperately hoping no one would come by and see them.

After Patrick's sexual encounter with the slut bank teller, her nymphomania was combined with yours, Paul continued as he thrust his cock in and out of Camilla's asshole. That tramp was soon fucking every male employee, and me, too. Of course, while the effect of Nigrovum made the others all my slaves, helping me steal from the masses and make a ton of money, I--knowing how to use Nigrovum's power--was able to convert your lust-energy into an energy of ambition, which is what all of us 'masked men' do. My power grew, and my staff, not at all knowing how to use the power, are now unquestionably compliant. Our bank now makes twice what it did before in profits, though the media keeps that all quiet, than to Ted's influence.

Camilla could only helplessly stare in terror at the wide-open door three feet in front of her, and hope her squeals weren't loud enough to draw attention from the other guests. He pulled his cock out of her ass after another two or three minutes of ass-fucking, then got up and went over to stand beside her. He turned the kneeling woman around to face him, so when she blew him, her face, in profile, would be visible from outside the room. He pushed the tip of his cock against her opening lips, and she--always under his psychic control--took his cock in and began caressing the shaft with her lips and tongue.

Thanks again for your help in getting us Greens voted into office, he psychically told her as his cock went in and out of her salivating mouth. Prime Minister Van Duyne is happy beyond words to be finally controlling the whole country, and you don't even know you helped us, since we always had you in a trance whenever you voted, or mentally prodded other people to vote for him. You didn't seriously think that all the boundless power of Nigrovum would be only yours to manipulate, did you? A mere girl? Our people were exploiting this power long before you even knew you had it, though we had far grander goals than just to have an endless string of sexual conquests. Our men in Vancouver were using it even when you'd thought your seduction of Mark Grisham was all your doing. They, far more than you, were psychically making all that fucking happen with your elementary and high school teachers, and for the same purposes as my getting my brother to fuck that slut bank teller. I'm just curious: do you still think you're a goddess? Don't make me laugh.

*****************

Since Cameron had been having sex with Camilla for a couple of years now, he too had lots of Nigrovum in his blood; and he could vaguely sense the sexual excitement--and fear--his wife was feeling.

"Excuse me, Ted," he said to the media man, who had been deliberately stalling him with verbose conversation. "I want to go look for my wife. Where is she?"

"Oh, I'm sure she's in good hands with Paul, don't worry," Ted said, trying to keep from snickering at what he knew was really happening in that room on the third floor. "But if you want to go find her, I understand."

"Thanks. It's been nice talking to you," Cameron said. "Bye."

"Bye," Ted said. I'd love to be a fly on the wall and see your reaction to what Paul's doing with her, Ted thought with an eerie grin.

Cameron left Ted, found the stairs, and went up to the second floor, sensing that he was getting closer to wherever Camilla was, but still not getting a clear enough psychic signal as to where exactly. He kept looking around.

*****************

Camilla was aggressively and frantically sucking on Paul's cock, hoping to speed up his excitement and make him come soon; maybe then he would finally release her, and she could get dressed and return to her husband. She had her wet lips tightly wrapped around Paul's shaft, and her tongue licked, flickered, and vibrated against the sensitive underside of his cock. She looked up at him with a slutty look in her eyes, hoping that would turn him on more, while hoping no less that her husband--whom she sensed was coming up and looking for her--wouldn't catch her with Paul. She gently shook his balls in her hand.

Finally, Paul was about to blow: he pulled his cock out of her mouth and came all over her face. It hit her on the nose, in her right eye, on her left cheek, on her lips, and on her chin.

"Thank you, Camilla," he said as he went over and got a handkerchief out of his pants. He wiped her come off his groin area, then licked it all off the handkerchief. "Don't want to miss a single drop, not a single microscopic black egg, right Camilla? You are definitely as good as your reputation informs us. I'm sure I'll get much more powerful now with Nigrovum coming directly from you, who have developed your own talents with it. Now, those talents are mine." When he finished drying himself off and licking the handkerchief off, he put his pants, underwear, and shoes back on. "OK, baby, get back on all fours." She was mentally forced to obey.

He got behind her and began licking all her come off her pussy. He sucked it all off her labia and clitoris, then stuck his tongue as far inside her cunt as he could reach; he used Nigrovum to lengthen his tongue so it could reach all the way to her A-spot and lap up every drop of her come.

She was getting excited again, but also increasingly afraid, for she could sense Cameron finishing his search of the second floor, and his plan to go up to the third floor and search there. She mustered all her will to counter Paul's blocking of her so keep her own desire under control, so she wouldn't come again, and further lengthen this dangerous sexual encounter.

When he'd finished lapping up all her come, Paul psychically shortened his tongue to its original size and pulled it out of her pussy. Then he got a small jar and scoop out of his left blazer pocket, and shovelled all her come, which was in a blob on the floor between her legs, into the jar.

When he was finished scooping it all up, he put the jar and scoop back in his blazer pocket, got up, and said, "Good. That will be of invaluable use in our rituals. Thanks again, Camilla. You've been so helpful to us." He then put his hand into his right blazer pocket and pulled out a grotesque mask, like those worn in ancient Greek comedies, just like the ones the Satanists wore in the mansion on Grouse Mountain in Vancouver. He put the mask on the window sill. He left the room, leaving the door wide open and giggling to himself. She just looked over at the mask and tried to gasp in terror, but couldn't, for she was still under Paul's psychic control.

Suddenly, she felt herself forget who he was, what he'd said to her, and what he looked like; now she was even more scared. Still with her mental block, she tried to get up and reach for her clothes, but she could move only very slowly. She sensed Cameron approaching the stairs leading up to the third floor.

As Paul went down the stairs to the second floor, he saw Cameron coming up. "Excuse me," Cameron asked him, having been made by Paul to forget having met him. "Have you seen my wife by chance? She's a short, young woman, with short, wavy light brown hair, and wearing a silver dress?"

"Well, I think I saw a woman of that description up on the third floor somewhere, though I don't think she was wearing a silver dress," Paul said, passing Cameron and making him forget that second meeting with Paul. He also removed the psychic barrier, so Cameron could freely enter every room and eventually find Camilla.

Bent over, Camilla desperately tried to put her dress back on as fast as she could, which was still extremely slow. Paul's come was still dripping off her face and onto the floor, and she sensed her approaching husband. At that point, she had only her feet in the dress, and it was pulled up to her knees; her bare ass was pointing at the wide-open door.

Cameron walked by the room, looked in, and saw her. "Camilla," he said, unsurprised to see her naked, since he'd sensed her sexual excitement from before; he also sensed her fear. "What happened?"

Suddenly, she could move normally again, since Paul had finally released her. She quickly pulled her dress up and put on her shoes. Getting some tissue out of her purse and wiping her face with trembling hands, she said, "Cameron, I can explain." The sight of the mask on the window sill made her already-racing heartbeat seem to double in speed. "The man who just went downstairs forced himself on me. I never consented to the sex with him, I swear."

"What man?" Cameron asked. "I don't remember anyone."

"Honey, he made you forget," she explained, having got essentially all of Paul's come off her face, with most of her makeup. "He made me forget who he was. You know that psychic power I have, the one I passed on to you and to Eros? Well, other people have it too, and not just my former lovers. Bad people have it."

"Who?" Cameron asked. Never angry about his wife having sex with another man, since his low self-esteem made him almost welcome further cuckolding, Cameron was now getting worried from the fear he sensed in her.

"Remember the story I told you once about masked men in a mansion? Well, look at this." She handed him the mask from the window sill. "Those bastards must have come here from Vancouver and found me using their psychic powers. I thought Candice and I had killed them all, but we were wrong, apparently. They must want revenge for our killing their friends. He was saying something to me as he was raping me, but he made me forget it all; all I know is it was terrifying to hear. Anyway, I'll bet their numbers have grown, and I'll bet they use this mansion, and maybe other ones, to continue their Satanic bullshit. All those times that I've been terrorized at York, being masturbated to orgasm, right in my classrooms, or forced to get naked and fuck in front of my classmates? It must have been the masked men. I'd always thought that it had been the incubi who used to torment me in my dreams; maybe it's both the living and the dead masked men. Who knows for sure. I don't remember who I was just with, but this mask tells me a lot. They're so bold with their power, those masked bastards; they're even telling me it's them."

"Can't you do anything? Can't we do anything?" Cameron asked.

"I've tried putting up psychic barriers, and they work for a while; I won't be attacked by them for several months, but they'll break through eventually. What do they want? I never listened to Ravinder's and Daddy's warnings, because they sounded like just a bunch of crazy conspiracy theories. Were they right? I don't know. Sometimes I try to communicate with Dr. Singh and Daddy, but I get blocked. Before I thought it was the incubi blocking me; maybe it's been the masked men. Again, maybe it's both--I can't be sure."

"What will we do?"

"Cameron, we've gotta move; as soon as I get my doctorate, which should be next year--fuck, that's so long to wait!--we've gotta leave Toronto. Hopefully, those Satanic bastards, if it's them, won't find us. Maybe the ghosts' psychic power is enough to produce a mask out of thin air. If it was the ghosts who made me get naked and fuck in front of my classmates, I guess anything's possible. But then again, the idea that it's living masked men sounds more believable, if much scarier. Anyway, we've gotta make really strong psychic barriers to protect us in the meantime. We've both got to make those barriers together, to make sure they're as strong as possible. Then, as soon as I get my PhD, we're leaving Toronto."




Camilla Ch. 098



"OK," Cameron said. "Let's get out of here. I'm not in the mood for swinging anymore."

"Yeah," she said as they left the room together. "I've already swung tonight."

*******************

Back in the Montreal aquarium, the man (whose mask was in his car) continued watching 37-year-old, unconscious, naked Camilla being gang-banged by spirits. Her come, glowing with lust-energy, was still gushing from her pussy and into the water over which she hovered. He'd been psychically monitoring her memories, as the spirits of her loved ones had been. Grinning, the man whispered, "They couldn't stop us then, and they certainly cannot stop us now. The world will be ours, all ours soon. Thanks again, Camilla, for all of your help."



Camilla Ch. 099



The memories that unconscious, 37-year-old Camilla was reliving had returned to those of a more sexually restrained, monogamous period of her marriage with Cameron--the time between her forced sexual encounter with Paul Shaw and when she, Cameron, and Eros moved from Toronto to Montreal. Because of her contemplation of this tamer period of her life, the lust-energy levels in Camilla's Nigrovum were once again lower; so the come that her gaping pussy was spewing out into the water, over which her nude body was hovering, would not be as effective in making her lecherous, voyeuristic audience into obedient servants of the masked men. Dr. Singh and his Nigrovum-cured AIDS patients, as well as the spirits of Agape, Don Josiah, and Candice, could now monitor Camilla with some renewed hope, however temporary that hope would be.

Indeed, the masked men, also monitoring their incessantly gang-banged victim, simply waited for this lull in the lewdness to pick up speed, which it would do, soon enough.

*************

Camilla was reliving a memory from nine years before her predicament in the public aquarium in Montreal. 

Back in Toronto, 28-year-old Camilla--who looked twenty-two, thanks to Nigrovum's slowing of her ageing--was tirelessly working to finish her doctoral thesis. Eager to have it ready for her thesis committee as soon as possible, she again abstained from decadent sex for almost a year. Only with her husband did she make love, with an emphasis on the love. 

The psychic barrier she and Cameron had put around themselves, as soon as they'd got home from Paul Shaw's party, was holding up very well; and their sexual restraint was ensuring that the barrier would stay strong. Accordingly, she hadn't been troubled by the masked men in any way. 

She'd resumed meditating, more bravely facing that mystical ocean, the pantheistic unity of atman and Brahman, of self and other that had frightened me--I mean, her--so much the last time she'd contemplated it. She even briefly resumed psychic contact with her father, Agape.

Oh, Daddy, I've missed you so much, she mentally communicated to him. I'm so sorry for having shot you.

No need to apologize, he told her. You tried to save me, remember? And I stopped you. Anyway, I've missed you, too. Give up your life in the physical world, and we can be together in the spiritual one. If you don't die, I can promise you, something terrible will happen to you, and to the world. The masked men have plans for you; you must know that by now.

Please don't ask me to die, she begged him. I'm not ready to; I'm too scared to face hell.

Sooner or later, you'll have to face it; and later will be much harder for you. 

I can use Nigrovum to keep me alive forever.

Do you really want that for yourself, Camilla? You can't live forever, and who'd want to? If you keep thinking that way, you'll go mad for sure. Have faith in Don and me; we can help you get out of the hellish realms.

You can't , Daddy. There are too many of those masked bastards out there. Both the living and the dead ones are after me. Sorry, I can't do that. Bye.

Not able to endure even contemplating death, Camilla cut off her psychic connection with Agape, and blocked him, however reluctantly. 

Though she wouldn't be persuaded to die, she did continue trying to face that pantheistic, infinite ocean that united her with all the souls of humanity. She felt in those soothing waves a paradoxical mixture of repose and fear. Though facing the pain and anger she'd caused in all her dead, former lovers was frightening for her, she also sensed the possibility of an ultimate purging of all her sins. In the ouroboros of the afterlife, with its heavenly extreme in the serpent's head, and the hellish extreme in its bitten tail, she sensed that she was destined to be close to where the teeth bit in; if she could bravely fight her way through the agonizing realms and go into the mouth, instead of going the other way to get to the head (which would take much longer to attain), maybe then she could escape from hell, and be reunited with her father and Don. Perhaps in her meditations she could achieve all that while still alive.

Still, she felt all that evil enveloping her, the psychic energy of the living and dead masked men. That evil was like stormy seas, surrounding her small area of calm waters on all sides. That psychic energy was so vague that she couldn't tell if it came from the living or the dead, but she could tell that much of it was coming from the masked men. Knowing this made the need to leave Toronto all the more urgent.

Her thesis was soon finished, and with a few minor revisions, she finally got her PhD. Frantic to get out of Toronto, she used Nigrovum to find a teaching position as quickly as possible: she found one in McGill University in Montreal, as well as a teaching job for Cameron. They began packing immediately upon finding their new jobs.

As much as she wanted to get out of Toronto quickly, she found it hard to leave her house, the house that used to be her beloved father's. This house was most of what little she still had of the man she so intensely loved. The memories of the place made him seem almost alive to her still, and leaving would make the reality of his death all the more cruelly plain. She took every photo of him, his old bourbon glass, and everything else that reminded her of him, however useless many of those things may have been to her, outside of sentimental value.

That summer, she, Cameron, and 9-year-old Eros found a house in Montreal and moved in. The fear of the masked men seemed gone from her heart for good, though she already missed Agape's house and everything in Toronto that reminded her of him and Candice. 

One night in late August, feeling achy and stressed from both missing her Toronto home and the ongoing friction between Cameron and Eros, black-haired, pale 'Goth-looking' Camilla decided she needed a massage. She could have simply used Nigrovum to ease her nerves and sore muscles; but something inside her, a kind of thirst, it seemed, made her want someone else's hands on her body...a man's hands.

She walked into a massage parlour on the side of town opposite from where her new house was; the establishment was called, 'Sweet Caress'. She looked around the front reception area, went up to the front desk, and read a sign on the wall above where the owner was standing. The sign showed all the services offered.  

"What would you like tonight?" the owner asked.

Camilla saw a handsome fifty-something man standing by, one who was wearing a shirt with the 'Sweet Caress' logo on it. Correctly assuming he was one of their masseurs, and feeling that 'thirst' increase somewhat in intensity, she said, "I'd like a full massage and bath--with him." I'm getting only a massage, she thought; nothing too hot.

After paying the owner, Camilla was led into a room with the masseur. He turned on the bath water and turned toward the door, ready to walk out. "OK," he said, "get undressed and in the water, and I'll be back in a minute."

Feeling that thirst again, she asked, "What do you need to leave for? You have everything here: soap, towels, bath foam, and oil lubricants." She pointed to them on a nearby shelf. "I used to work in a massage parlour, so I know."

"Well, I was going to leave so you could disrobe in private," he said.

Her 'thirst' got stronger, and she tried unsuccessfully to fight it. "If I-I'm going to be n-naked for my bath, you watching me u-undress shouldn't be a problem."

"OK," he said, turning around to face her, and smiling ever so slightly.

She pulled off her T-shirt, revealing her pink lace brassiere. What am I doing? she thought. I'm married. Sure, the guy's good-looking, but I'm trying to be good again. She unzipped and pulled down her jeans, showing him her pink panties. I'm just getting a massage. A legitimate massage. If he tries to take advantage of me, I'll use my psychic powers to immobilize him. She then removed her sneakers, socks, and jeans.

He put the bath foam in the water and got the soap, towels, and lubricant ready.

She hesitated before taking off her underwear; then she felt that 'thirst' getting a bit stronger again. She removed her bra and panties, and he got an eyeful of her frontal nudity before she got in the tub, which was now full of foamy water.

He lathered the soap in his hands and rubbed it on her snow-white back. I'll let him wash only my back and arms, she thought. That's all the fun he's getting with this married woman. He soaped up her arms and armpits, then moved around to her chest, above her breasts. Well, I guess that area's OK, too.

His hands moved down to clean her breasts; he gently cupped and squeezed them. Before she could protest, that 'thirst' grew stronger, and she was enjoying his sensual touch. 

"Please raise your legs so I can wash them," he said. 

"OK," she said, lifting up her legs. Then he ran his soapy hands up and down her legs, and washed her feet; she was softly moaning the whole time.

"Please get on all fours," he said, "so I can clean you from behind."

"OK," she said, getting on all fours. Well, she thought, I suppose he has to be thorough. As his hands got the soapy lather all over her buttocks, her 'thirst' was getting torturous to feel. He opened her buttocks and got soap on her anus, then gently slid a soapy finger inside, slowly going deeper and deeper in her rectum. After rinsing out her asshole, he cleaned her vulva, thoroughly lathering her swollen labia, rock-hard clitoris, and vaginal opening, which was wet not only with water.

He slid his soapy index and long fingers inside her pussy, rubbing the lather against her G-spot, then going inside far enough to touch her A-spot.

"Oh!" she squealed with delight.

He rinsed out her pussy. "OK, stand up, please," he said, "and I'll rinse off the rest of you."

She stood up, with her back to him; he rinsed off her back and buttocks with the shower head in his hand.

"OK," he said. "Now turn around, please." She did, letting him see her soapy breasts and pubic hair again. She felt a mixture of shame and excitement, not wanting to betray her husband, but wanting to satisfy herself and her masseur.

No sex, she thought as he rinsed her off. No sex.

"Alright, you can come out now," he said, reaching over and unplugging the bathtub. She stepped out and stood on a towel laid out by the tub.

He got a towel and dried her off thoroughly, paying particular attention to her breasts, buttocks, cunt, and asshole. He then gestured to the massage table, and she got on it, lying on her front.

Not bothering with putting a blanket over her to cover up her nakedness, he got some oil lubricant on his hands and began rubbing it on her back and arms. Psychically feeling his desire, which was no less hot than hers, she was battling in her mind whether to give in and let him fuck her, or be strong and remain faithful to her husband.

His hands moved down and got the oil on her buttocks, opening them and getting lubricant in her anal cleft.

"Oh, that feels so good," she moaned.

"You're telling me," he grunted.

"Let's not be naughty, OK?" she asked in sighs. "I'm taken."

Gently rubbing the oil into her anal orifice, he said, "What happens...in here won't...be known outside. Don't worry." His oily finger slowly went in further.

"But I'll know. Oh!"

"We don't have to...if you don't want to. I'll let you...think about it." He rubbed the oil on her legs and feet, sensitively paying attention to each toe. When he finished, he said, "OK, on your back, please."

She rolled over on her back, and as he got more oil on his hands and looked at her breasts and black pubic hair, she thought about this most tempting situation. Sure, I've had extra-marital sex before, she thought. And Cameron knew; but it was always controlled. I had his consent when we were swinging, and I allowed him to fuck the Asian girls we had in threesomes one and two years ago. As for my encounter with Paul Shaw, I may have technically enjoyed the sex, but I'd been forced. This is totally different: this man isn't forcing himself on me; I want him as much as he wants me, and Cameron isn't here to indulge his Candaulism. If I fuck this guy, it's out-and-out adultery!

He was now rubbing the oil on her breasts, gently pinching her erect black nipples. She sighed and moaned to his touch. His hands moved down to her belly, getting lubricant in her navel.

If I fuck him, I'm no better than Mom, Camilla thought, more and more desperate to resist temptation. I can still vividly remember the time I came back from school and saw her getting Angus Thass's come all over her face, in her and Daddy's bedroom. And she later married that bastard! It should have been no surprise to Mom that I would never accept Angus as a step-dad.

The masseur rubbed the oil on Camilla's thighs and ran his slippery fingers through her black pubic hair. Preferring to tease her, he skipped her pussy and rubbed lubricant on her legs, slowly working down to her feet.

I can't become like my slut Mom, Camilla thought. Her cheating on Daddy, and leaving him for Angus, was unforgivable. And after she married Angus, and after all the key parties they'd have, she even cheated on him without his knowing. After that, they finally divorced, and Mom actually mended her ways; then she sent me to that all-girls Catholic school, hoping it would make me a better person than she was. But the damage was already done, and look at the kind of life I've lead. But I cannot let myself be an adulteress, like Mommy.

The masseur was working the oil on and in between Camilla's toes now; she moaned and sighed softly to his expert touch.

My mom actually had a few orgies when Angus was away on business trips, Camilla remembered. I, ten at the time, was supposed to be asleep in bed when Mom was fucking those guys--she'd given me sleeping pills, and I tricked her into thinking I'd swallowed them--then I snuck out of my bedroom to see what she'd been doing. I was horrified to poke my head through her ajar bedroom door and see her in a gang-bang, with cocks in her mouth, pussy, and ass! When not blowing a guy, she'd scream, "Oh! My G-spot! Ah! My A-spot! " as a cock was pumping her pussy. Soon after having seen that, I looked up those words on Wikipedia, as well as many other sex terms and concepts, like gang-bang. Pretty intense reading for a ten-year-old girl, but then again, I was always a voracious reader...I used to read everything. Everything! Of course, I also started checking out internet porn at that time. Gay porn especially.

Finally, the masseur started gently fingering Camilla's hard clitoris. Another finger slid inside her wet pussy, massaging her G-spot.

Still trying to take her mind off her temptation, Camilla continued contemplating childhood memories. No child could ever understand what I was reading on Wikipedia, or any of the other many sources I used to get my early sex education from, she thought. Seeing what my Mommy did would corrupt anybody. Now, the strange thing is, I've always been able to understand grown-up stuff--whether about sex or not. The photographic memory I inherited from my Mom made it easy to remember tiny details: that's why I was always an excellent student. I still remember scoring 137 on an IQ test back in grade school. Back in grade one, before walking to school every morning, as a little kid I'd always lie on the dewy grass in a park just a few blocks away from my home. I felt the dew go in the pores of my skin on my face. Then I'd go to school, all alert and perceptive of everything. My precocious childhood intellect made Mommy think I could eventually be a lawyer or something. She was so mad when I'd become a stripper!

The masseur's finger went deeper inside Camilla's pussy, gently jabbing her A-spot a few times. She squealed with ecstasy, and even though she'd tried everything to resist temptation, she came all over his hand.

"You know," he said. "I have a much better tool to massage you with."

"I'm sure you do," she said. "But we shouldn't. I'm married."

"Oh, come, come. Let me satisfy you even more. Nobody will know." He unzipped his pants.

"They'll hear me screaming outside."

"No, they won't. Not a chance." He pulled out his cock and lay on the massage table. Resigning herself to total sluttishness, and knowing she could never resist that 'thirst', she got on top of him in the cowgirl position. He pulled his pants down to his knees. Slowly descending on his hard-on, she fed his cock into her dripping wet pussy, moaning and sighing with each inch it went in.

His cock got all the way inside, poking at her A-spot, and she came a second time. She squealed in whistle register, then started worrying about outsiders hearing her.

"Don't worry," the man said in grunts as she continued bouncing on his cock. "This room...is sound-proofed so...the police won't know. We have...complete privacy. Unh!"

"OK," she sighed. "Ah!" As she thrilled to feel his big cock slide in and out of her pussy, she thought of one more childhood memory. During one of those orgies my Mom had with her gang-banger friends, Camilla thought, I was spying on her, and she caught me looking. She screamed at me to go to bed; but just then, Angus also came home and took us all by surprise. (His business trip had been cancelled at the last minute, or something.) He saw Mom with all those naked men. Yelling and fighting started, and it was all so overwhelming for me that I fainted, and actually went into a coma. Oh, if Cameron were to see me now...my Mommy, all over again!

The masseur reached up and fondled Camilla's tits as he fucked her. After another minute or so of fucking, she came again. Then he pulled his cock out of her pussy, and she took it in her mouth. She sucked him off briefly, and he came in her mouth. She swallowed every drop. 

He got a handkerchief and wiped her come off his spent penis and thighs. Laden with guilt and fighting back the tears, she got off the massage table and reached for her clothes.

"No, don't get dressed," he said, pulling up and zipping up his pants. "Go out naked. Let everyone see how beautiful your 'Goth' body is."

Feeling the 'thirst' of exhibitionistic lust again, nude Camilla picked up her clothes and purse, and walked out of the room with them in her arms. She moved in an almost mechanical manner. 

Everyone in the parlour was pleasantly stunned to see her lovely nakedness. She went out to her car, got in, and finally no longer felt that 'thirst'. 

Made totally unaware that she had been psychically manipulated, Camilla just sat in her car and sobbed for a minute or so before putting her clothes back on. "How could I have allowed that to go so far? I'm no better than my Mom. I'm an adulteress." She drove back home, crying all the way. Only when she had reached her neighbourhood did she pull herself together, preparing to pretend that nothing had happened when she met Cameron at home. For if she was still thinking about her guilt, he--with his own developing psychic abilities--would know what she'd done. For that reason, she chose to block him from sensing her thoughts.

*******************

"Thank you for giving me such a good time, Dr. Camilla Fox," the masseur said after watching Camilla leave 'Sweet Caress', and removing the psychic barrier he'd put around their room to drown out her screaming. He took off the 'Sweet Caress' shirt he'd been wearing and put on a polo shirt. Then he, by no means an employee of the massage parlour, put on his mask, psychically made everyone there oblivious of who he was, and casually walked out of the building and towards his car. He got in his car and sat there, licking Camilla's come off his handkerchief. Then he called a friend on his cell-phone. "Hi," he said. "It's confirmed: Camilla is here in Montreal."