A painful moment in the reliving of 37-year-old Camilla's memories had come; so painful was this memory, in fact, that it might have seemed better for her wake up. Indeed, her sleeping naked body getting gang-bangs from the spirits of all her angry former lovers in the public aquarium might have seemed like a rest. Nonetheless, she had to go through all the agonizing moments in these memories; for only now was she able to see clearly what had really been going on years before.
Four years before the aquarium incident, 14-year-old Eros was psychically blocking Camilla, then 33, from sensing Cameron's slowly increasing despair over her cheating. This was a despair the boy was subtly enlarging with Nigrovum. His step-father eventually grew deathly ill, and was unable to teach for a week before his sadness had weighed down on him so heavily, like huge rocks on his back, that he finally died in bed.
When Camilla found her husband's corpse under the blankets one November afternoon after coming home from McGill University, she knelt by the bedside and sobbed softly. When she started to feel those same 'rocks' on her back, she automatically set up her emotionally numbing psychic dome, as usual, to help her carry on.
During the funeral, which came a few days after Cameron's death, she looked down teary-eyed at her husband's body in the coffin; while Eros, smiling slightly, psychically blocked Camilla from knowing how happy he was with the success of his plan. The masked men, ever monitoring Camilla's every second, were also pleased.
37-year-old unconscious Camilla, now reliving these memories with the psychic blocks removed, felt tortured by what she now knew of her son's involvement in Cameron's death. Only her fear of dying, and of being forever gang-raped by the spirits of her vengeful former lovers in hell, kept her from psychically letting go of her life in this world. Besides, she still had to know everything that had been psychically kept from her; and reliving this mournful period of her life made the come she was gushing out into the water-tank neither that of lust, nor of fear.
This lull in the lust-energy in the Nigrovum in her come didn't trouble the masked men too much, for they knew she would soon relive a lustful, fearful memory.
No longer burdened with the responsibility of being faithful to a husband, Camilla returned to fucking without inhibition or restraint; besides, enjoying a number of her cute twenty-something university students--male and female--helped her forget the pain of losing Cameron. 'Fuck the pain away,' as Candice had used to say, back in her heavy junkie days. The masked men obviously were delighted with Camilla's resurgent promiscuity, for she was once again spreading around lots of lust- and fear-infected Nigrovum, making her many new lovers slaves to the masked men. Also, her indulgence in sex, nullifying any interest in spirituality, made her more of a slave to them, too.
One afternoon the following April, she was lecturing before her students in McGill University, and had mentioned a passage from Balzac's Pere Goriot. Her hair, eyes, and skin were their original blonde, blue, and peach colours, respectively.
"'Civilization,'" she quoted in the original French, "'like the car of Juggernaut, is scarcely stayed perceptibly in its progress by a heart less easy to break than the others that lie in its course; this also is broken, and Civilization continues on her course triumphant.' 'Juggernaut' refers to 'Jagannath', a Hindu god whose idol is pulled on a chariot during a religious festival. According to
The Travels of Sir John Mandeville
, Hindus would throw themselves under the wheels of the chariot, allowing themselves to be crushed to death in an act of religious sacrifice. Some say the deaths were mere accidents: the crowds who enthusiastically watched the idol passing by on the streets would push and shove, and people would fall on the road. It makes no difference to me how they died, for it is the power of idolatry to make us gaze in stupefied awe at a god or goddess raised up high, and we are destroyed by it will or nill."
As she continued lecturing, she felt what seemed like a finger going up her cunt, tickling her G-spot. She started sighing heavily with a wide-open mouth; she looked in the faces of her students with embarrassment. That invisible finger kept slipping in and out, gently stroking her G-spot just the way she liked it. Though this obvious psychic intrusion by the masked men was most unwelcome, she couldn't help enjoying the masturbation she was receiving. Her hips and ass moved up and down rhythmically to the fingering. She'd paused mid-lecture for about five seconds or so.
"Ms. Fox?" asked a female student in the first row. "Are you OK?"
"Uh, yeah," she sighed, trying to make those sighs as inaudible as she could. "Sorry. The path...to salvation...doesn't have...to be...attained only...through asceticism. Siva is...an
erotic
ascetic, renouncing pleasure...as well as...indulging in it. The Carpocratians, who were...libertines, also indulged, because they believed...the imprisoned eternal soul...must pass through...every possible condition...of earthly life.
Oh
!" Moisture from her cunt was staining her panties.
Her students were looking more and more askance at her. Two of them, young men in suits, were smiling lewdly, enjoying watching The Fox getting horny right in front of their eyes.
"To get to...the heavenly head...of the ouroboros, you can go...the Right hand Path, up the body...of the serpent...to the head, or you can go...the Left hand Path, down to the bitten tail, and through the hell...of that tail...to the head," she continued, panting. "There are...two ways to heaven: the way of...the Church, sweet and innocent...and peaceful, or the way...of Jagannath, of willing self-destruction. There's the ascetic way, or the erotic." Now she felt an invisible finger rubbing against her asshole, and gently slipping inside. An invisible tongue was then licking her hard clit. She knew she couldn't go on with her lecture. "Excuse me."
Suddenly, she ran out of the classroom and found a nearby washroom. She pulled down her pants and underwear, and sat on the toilet. Those invisible fingers kept on sliding in and out of her pussy and asshole, reaching deeper and deeper inside. The invisible tongue kept on licking and licking, and invisible lips were sucking on her hard clitoris, then tightly hugging her swollen labia. Now she was free to enjoy it in private...or so she thought.
The psychic finger in her pussy was gently jabbing at her A-spot, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. The finger deep in her rectum was stroking the anal wall that neighboured her vaginal wall, giving her even more pleasure. Those lips and tongue were frantically sucking on and licking her clitoris. Her sighs grew louder and higher pitched, then she squealed and sprayed the toilet bowl and water with her come.
She was so involved with her pleasure that she paid no psychic attention to whoever could have been listening on the other side of the door; in fact, she'd even forgot to lock it upon entering! Those two boys from her class, both about twenty years old, had been listening to her moans and squeals just outside the washroom almost immediately after she'd gone in. No longer able to resist the temptation, one of them suddenly opened the door, and they both barged in just as she was pulling up her pants.
"Dr. Fox," said one of the men. "You stepped out of our class to masturbate?"
Instead of saying what she wanted to, to tell the boys to leave and mind their own business, she was compelled to say, "Yeah." She did up her pants.
