Camilla Ch. 115byMawrGorshin©
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.