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?