Camilla Ch. 075

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On Wednesday afternoon, Camilla, with blonde hair and blue eyes again, was in her class, ‘Literature: Forms and Approaches.’ Her teacher, Dr. Martin, a handsome, silver-haired Englishman in his late fifties, both attracted and repelled her–he looked and sounded a lot like Richard Dawkins, the advocate of atheism, a man whose lack of religious faith offended her Catholic sensibilities, but whose erudition, suave English accent, and obvious intelligence excited her. Though she didn’t know anything about Dr. Martin’s personal beliefs, he reminded her enough about Dawkins, both physically and intellectually, to give her the same jolts of attraction and repulsion; thus she’d been undecided whether to seduce or not to seduce. After a month of attending his lectures, she was now leaning toward the former.

During this Wednesday’s lecture, he spoke of psychoanalytic readings of literature, introducing Freud’s theories. “According to Freud,” Dr. Martin said, “children go through a phase in their relationship with their parents called the ‘Oedipus complex’; they have sexual feelings for the parent of the opposite sex, while having feelings of hostility for the parent of the same sex, who is the child’s rival for the love of the former parent. Jung provided the term ‘Electra complex’ for girls’ version of this Oedipal conflict, since in Greek myth, Electra deeply loved her father, Agamemnon, and hated her mother, Clytemnestra, for plotting his murder with her lover, Aegisthus.”

That’s my life he’s talking about, Camilla thought. Those are my desires he’s describing: Dr. Martin’s brilliant. She put her hand under her miniskirt, slipped it in her panties, and started fingering her clitoris.

“With the Electra complex,” Dr. Martin continued, “the daughter begins to envy the penis…her father’s penis. She wants it; this theory, perhaps more than any other, is why Freud has been marginalized in psychology–perhaps more through the opposition of the vast majority of feminists than through that of all the other critics of psychoanalysis. His ideas, however, still have some influence in the humanities, as in the writings of feminist Camille Paglia.”

“Right again,” Camilla whispered. Now her finger was flickering inside her cunt. I don’t know about most women, she thought; but I sure want my daddy’s cock; if I had one attached to my body, I wouldn’t stop playing with it. “Dr. Martin, you’re so hot.” Sitting beside her at the front row of desks was a young man; he couldn’t help looking down and watching what she was doing between her legs.

“As the girl grows up, she replaces her desire for her father with a desire for men in general,” Martin said.

Or she supplements Daddy with men in general, she thought; men like you. She stuck her finger in deeper, reaching for her A-spot. Her panties were getting damp from her pussy’s moisture.

“And desire for his penis, his ‘little one’, as Freud called it,…”

You’re wrong there, Sigmund, she thought; Daddy’s got a great big one. Her hand was jerking faster in her panties. The young man was really hoping her miniskirt would flip up so he could see more.

“…is replaced with a desire for a different ‘little one’, a baby,” the prof said.

Wrong again, Freud, she thought; I don’t want a baby…well, not yet, anyway. “Oh!” She blushed to think that anyone might have heard her; the young man beside her only smiled.

Dr. Martin then discussed Freud’s views on religion: “Freud saw God as an illusion, based on the infantile need for a powerful father figure.”

Oh, no, she thought; he’s sounding like Dawkins again. Still, Dawkins is hot. Trying her best to keep her sighs as soft as possible, she was approaching orgasm.

“Freud also said that in religion man yearns for ‘a sensation of eternity, a feeling as of something limitless, unbounded–as it were, oceanic.”

“Agreed,” she whispered. She tried to disguise her moaning with coughs as she came, as it were, an ocean, in her panties.

“Freud himself, however, never knew that oceanic feeling,” Dr. Martin said.

I know it, she thought. Getting a small plastic bag out of her purse, she pulled off her soaking panties, trying her best not to make a mess on the floor, and put them in the bag.

The young man beside her was getting bold. “Next time,” he said, ogling her, “if you need a helping hand, just let me know.”

She looked in his eyes intensely, her eyes temporarily turning black. “You don’t want to pursue me,” she said with a hypnotic hum to her voice.

“I don’t want to pursue you,” he said in a zombie-like way.

“I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.” She quickly cooled the lust in his pants.

“You’re not the kind of girl I’m looking for.”

“You’d rather chase after other girls.”

“I’d rather chase after other girls.”

“This gift will inspire you to look elsewhere.” She gave him her come-soaked casino siteleri panties.

“This gift will inspire me to look elsewhere.” He put her panties in his book-bag, oblivious to the mess they would make. The lecture had just ended.

“Now run along,” she said, taking a cloth out of her purse and cleaning her hands, as well as any come that got on the floor.

“I’ll run along now,” he said mechanically, then got up and walked out of the classroom.

“Nigrovum made me a Jedi,” she said to herself, giggling. She got up and tried to get near Dr. Martin, but a flood of students was crowding him, asking him questions. Waiting for the students to finish with him, she decided to give him a psychic scan: he was divorced, and essentially an agnostic. As for his sexual proclivities, she found nothing unpleasant. He fantasized about anal sex, having never tried it before; he also had a lingerie fetish, and a shit fetish, like Leroy and Holland. He thought Slavic accents sounded sexy on women, blondes being his preference; and he had a thing for old Marilyn Monroe movies. Now she knew what persona to play when with him, the breathless one appropriately named ‘Marilyn’. You may be skeptical about God, Dr. Martin, she thought; but I’ll bet you have a devout faith in sex goddesses, and you can idolize my poop any day.

A mob of students walked with Dr. Martin out of the classroom and all the way to his office, so Camilla gave up hope of having a chance to be alone with him. Instead, she looked past the crowd of students at him, now sitting at his desk, and eyed him with pursed lips, in her ‘Marilyn’ persona. Her eyes summoned his to look up from the other students and look at her; when he did look up at her, she pushed out her chest to draw his attention to how her large breasts pushed out of her tight-fitting black sweater. Her whore-bright makeup, including dark blue eye shadow, thick black mascara, pink blush and dark red lipstick, also got him excited. Though he tried to focus on his students’ questions, he could ‘feel’ her psychically telling him, Come see me–every inch of me–at Club Ritz on Friday.

She tried to use Nigrovum to make the other students go away, but she felt a barrier stopping her psychic energy from reaching them; obviously, Father Josiah had set up another force field around her to make her ‘behave herself’.

Fine, she thought; when I stop coming to church and start ignoring you, Father, then you’ll regret placing these restrictions on me.


That night in her bedroom, Camilla got out her lap-top and chatted online with Dr. Singh.

“Do you know any more about Nigrovum, Ravinder?” she typed. “Any new discoveries in your research?”

“Not so much with my scientific colleagues, who still dismiss my ‘pseudo-scientific’ insights as mere religious hogwash,” he typed. “But ironically, it’s been in my meditations that I’ve come to learn much. I now can communicate directly with these microscopic black beings in our blood.”

“Really? What do they ‘say’? Why do they make our desires stronger? Why do they fulfill our wishes?”

“They feed on energy,” he explained. “They prefer the energy of thoughts, feelings, and wishes; these forms of energy are like delicious food to Nigrovum. When they feed, instead of crushing and digesting food, as we do, they expand their ‘food’. By expanding the energy of your thoughts and desires, Nigrovum makes them grow into reality, thus fulfilling your wishes. This expansion also intensifies emotion.”

“I see. That makes a lot of sense. That’s how it feels inside my body, when I make my wishes come true–expansion.”

“Yes. After these expansions, the tiny black beings reproduce, thus expanding the energy of your urges even more. And thus I urge you, Camilla, desire only what’s right and good.”

“Sometimes I run out of power. Why is that?”

“When you’ve eaten enough, you’re full. When Nigrovum has expanded enough energy, the ovoid beings are sated, too. They don’t need any more energy, they don’t want any more, and they won’t expand any more. If you stuff yourself with food, you feel uncomfortable; if you stuff Nigrovum with an excess of desires, you become spiritually uncomfortable. Don’t stuff them, Camilla: it’s dangerous. Don’t will things too much, especially not selfish will, which is addictive. Passive, peaceful thoughts are less ‘filling’ for Nigrovum, so it will feed on them longer; such thoughts are better for you, too, as all religions have taught us.”

“Yes. There’s truth in religion, too. Not just science, as the atheists think.”

“There is no conflict between my Hindu faith and science.”

“Nor between my Catholic faith and science.”

“Good,” Dr. Singh typed. “Practice your faith, and Nigrovum will give you peace. Don’t use your power selfishly, I urge you; that will lead you to destruction.”

They canlı casino finished their chat, and not even a minute had passed by before she totally disregarded all of his advice. She went on to Facebook, wanting to chat with Marcel. He’d made no recent posts, as, oddly, he hadn’t in about two weeks.


On Thursday night in her bedroom, Camilla had been trying to use Nigrovum to lure Alex into bed with her, since her father was at Carrie’s home for the night. Camilla hadn’t made even a nudge in the direction of success. The psychic barrier that Father Josiah had put up around her was an especially thick and strong one. She meditated, focusing as intensely as she could to know the dimensions and strength of the force field. She sensed that he’d sent her a message with the wall: ‘THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD.’


In his home, Father Josiah, with his growing new abilities, psychically monitored what Camilla had been trying to do. You must value monogamy, Camilla, he thought; I won’t have you with any men…unless it’s with me.


She was so mad at Josiah that she felt Nigrovum firing up inside her head and making her shake with rage. Knowing the danger of negative emotions, she slowly calmed down and tried to think of a solution to her recent sexual frustrations. She resolved to break through the barrier: she ‘chiselled away’ at it for the longest time, correctly sensing that this would take a long time. Indeed, the barrier was like a brick wall that was ten feet thick!

As she slowly but surely cut her way through much of it, she thought about her Wednesday class with Alex, the man she so badly wanted to fuck that night. His lecture the day before had been a particularly stimulating one for her, given her proclivities.

He’d lectured about myths of incest, beginning by reminding the class about Zeus marrying his sister, Hera. He also spoke of Uranus, the sky god who married his mother, Gaia, the earth goddess. Another mother/son marriage Alex spoke of was that of Oedipus and Iocasta. This last story reminded her of her lecture with Dr. Martin, and his discussion of the father/daughter relationship that so intrigued her.

Alex also discussed the story of King Cinyras and his daughter, Myrrha, who fell incestuously in love with him. “She, with the aid of her nurse, got him drunk night after night,” Alex explained. “Then she lay with him in the dark, and conceived a child by him. Finally, he realized what she’d done, and chased her with a sword. He chased her for nine months, then she was changed into a myrrh tree after praying to the gods to save her. When her baby was due, the tree cracked open, and Adonis was born.”

Because of her obvious identification with Myrrha, Camilla had loved this myth best of all. With the alcohol, marijuana, and ecstasy pills, how closely Camilla was imitating Myrrha’s schemes, too! Camilla just had to avoid a parallel of the story’s unhappy ending, though she wouldn’t have minded bearing Agape’s child. She was sure Nigrovum could correct any birth defects, as long as Father Josiah didn’t interfere.

Yet another myth Alex had discussed in his Wednesday lecture was that of an incestuous relationship between the Hindu creator god, Brahma, and his daughter, Sandhya. “Ashamed of thinking lustful thoughts, Brahma began to sweat,” Alex said.

This reminded Camilla of how she’d often seen Agape sweating in recent days, especially after innocently hugging her and pecking her on the cheek. Was there more to those hugs and kisses than mere affection? Oh, how she hoped so! She also thought about Dr. Martin’s lecture, in relation to Brahma’s sweating. “The unconscious mind houses many taboo, unacceptable thoughts that rarely surface,” he said. “There are, indeed, many dark thoughts we all secretly harbour in the deepest recesses of our minds.”

She remembered something Candice had once said back in high school, about Camilla’s thing for older men, that it was part of an Electra complex. How prophetic Candice’s words had been! Nigrovum had made Camilla’s unconscious desires surface; maybe Nigrovum could reveal unconscious, incestuous feelings in Agape! Did she dare to make such hopes a reality?

After having chiselled away at that force field for a half hour or so, she assessed her progress: she’d cut only about half way through! She tried again to lure Alex, suggesting he come to her home, but with no success. Then she tried to lure Dr. Lee and Dr. Abruzzi into bed with her–still, no success. That psychic barrier was simply too strong, and she was getting tired. Instead, she turned her thoughts to Agape.


Her father was at that time making love with Carrie, with her on top of him in the cowgirl position. As she felt his huge cock sliding in and out of her ecstatic MILF pussy, she sighed softly–a far ‘cry’ from Camilla’s kaçak casino screams.

He looked up at Carrie as she bounced up and down on him, noting that she was loving the sex, but without the wildness he’d seen in his living room, or in that ‘heavenly mansion’, for that matter. Indeed, his own ability to enjoy the sex was somewhat stifled by his concerns about hearing Camilla’s screams of pleasure on the night she’d fucked Ted. The real Carrie sighed softly during sex, while the Carrie in his ‘dreams’ squealed like Camilla!

Was Camilla committing incest with him while he was too drunk and stoned to realize it? Is that why she dyed her hair black, and wore black contact lenses? he wondered. No, it couldn’t have been her on top of me; Camilla couldn’t do such a thing to her father. She may be messed up, but surely she isn’t that messed up. These thoughts, unfortunately, gave him little more than partial reassurance.


Camilla, in her increasing jealousy, had been psychically scanning their lovemaking all the way from her bedroom. Since she’d had no plans to fuck Agape that night, Josiah’s barrier wasn’t blocking her now. Wanting to make her lovemaking more comparable to Carrie’s–to ease Agape into accepting incest with her–Camilla used Nigrovum to make Carrie scream and squeal more; she also caused Carrie’s body–thinner, and with smaller, sagging breasts–to look more like Camilla’s, young and full-figured.


In Carrie’s dim bedroom, the temporary metamorphosis of her body from forty-something to teenaged was less abrupt, less surprising, and thus more acceptable to Agape’s eyes. If Camilla could make him associate her body more with Carrie’s during sex, maybe she could get her father’s ‘unconscious incestuous feelings’ (assuming hopefully that they even existed) to surface.

Carrie bounced faster, and screamed and squealed louder. The sight of this sexually more aggressive version of Carrie indeed eased Agape’s worries about Camilla, and now he could enjoy the sex more. He fucked more aggressively, and faster. Though Carrie had quite experienced insides, his large cock filled up her vagina in a way reminiscent of Quentin Tarantino’s interpretation of Madonna’s song, ‘Like a Virgin’, though without the pain. Both lovers were nearing orgasm.

“Oh, yes! Yes!” Carrie screamed. “Ah!”

“Unh! Oh!” Agape grunted.

Finally, he came inside her. (He’d had a vasectomy a few years after his divorce from Collette, so she didn’t worry about getting pregnant.) He and Carrie lay next to each other, cuddling, as they caught their breath. Camilla removed her psychic alterations to Carrie.

“I love you,” he panted.

“I…love you, too,” she said. “But I…didn’t come yet.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said. He began rubbing his finger against her hard clitoris.

“Oh,” she softly sighed. Her pussy was soaking wet, and after a minute of his tickling, her orgasm oozed onto his fingers. “Oh!…”

“How was that?” he asked.

“Much better,” she sighed. “You’ve grown…so much more passionate…in recent weeks. You used…to be…so uptight about sex. Even afraid of it. Why the change?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I am ‘such stuff as dreams are made on.'”


On Friday night, Dr. Martin found himself walking into Club Ritz, not at all understanding what urge was pushing him into the strip joint. Looking around, he saw, at the other side of the bar, a curvaceous sexy blonde: she was like a magnet pulling him to her.

She, of course, was Camilla, standing by a table and chatting with Candice. Camilla was wearing a pink bra and panties, and white high heels that matched some cross-garters she had on, which climbed up from her ankles to her upper legs in sexy Xs, deliberately drawing lecherous attention to her legs. Her face was in her usual colourfully harlot-like makeup.

“Thanks again for shaving my pussy,” she said to Candice. “You’ll get some good loving tonight for that. I can’t wait for my prof to get here. I finally broke through that barrier Josiah had me trapped in. That bastard! He’s gonna pay for not letting me get laid.”

Silently sympathizing more with Josiah’s jealousies than with Camilla’s nymphomania, Candice said nothing.

“I put a psychic barrier of my own around him, even thicker than the one he’d put around me, and giving him far less room to use Nigrovum in. That’ll teach him to mess with a goddess.”

Dr. Martin came up to the girls, and Camilla, feeling his presence, turned around.

“Hi, Dr. Martin,” Camilla said in the sexiest voice she could muster, a combination of her breathy ‘Marilyn’ persona with a reasonably good imitation of Calina’s lilting Russian accent and ungrammatical English.

“Hello,” he said. “You are a goddess indeed. Aren’t you a student of mine?”

“Yes, sir, I am,” she purred, looking at him with warm eyes and an inviting smile. “I so enjoyed your lecture on Wednesday.”

“Thank you,” he said, his huge penis already starting to bulge out of his pants as he ogled her as politely as he could. “You’re very beautiful.”

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