tagNonConsent/ReluctanceCamilla Ch. 117

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.


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