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?...

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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...

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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.