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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, almanbahis adresi 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 almanbahis adres 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 almanbahis adresi 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.

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