The Crimson Milk Ch. 23

Clarice noticed the tent on her way to work. Its strange curtain flapped in an empty lot next to an abandoned shopping center. She didn't know when the shopping center had been abandoned, nor when the tent had been erected next to it. It was unusual, but Cloverdale had become a town of unusual things.

Clarice mulled over the same thoughts as everyone else. Time moved strangely on some days. Parts of her life seemed empty, as though the people who occupied them had vanished. Maybe the shopping center had bustled with life a week earlier, but somehow adopted a ramshackle and caved in appearance. Or perhaps the building kept a normal rhythm in time while Clarice and the other unlucky citizens stood still. She didn't like to think about it.

The tent, though, demanded attention despite also seemingly left behind in the flow of time. It had once been bright and colorful, splashed in spotlights to excite carnival goers. Now the reds and yellows had faded. Bright pink spans of cloth patched the tarp in several places. In the daylight, Clarice knew it was hollow, but as she passed on her way home from work, light flickered inside. Impossible silhouettes moved gracefully across the tents exterior, but no sound betrayed movement within. Clarice was not a curious woman, and she was not an adventurous woman. But that tent compelled her attention. The more she gave to it, the more she heard the faint sound of calliope music on the wind.

She pulled back the flap and entered the tent. Dazzling light caused her eyes to squint. A grand chandelier hung from the center where a tent pole should have stood. Strands of diamonds splintered the light emitting from a giant bulb. Beneath the strange light laid a threshed floor which smelled of cedar. In a semicircle facing the entrance stood thirteen different chairs.

The strange furniture fascinated. One chair seemed to be made of a living plant, the one beside it made of ice, and another was nothing but swirling cloud. She accounted the strangeness of each of them and also noticed the feeling of emptiness each accompanied, except for one. The chair directly across from the entrance drew her eye. A wing backed thing made of polished black ivory and covered with a dark purple fabric. The legs sat on skulls, and the arms ended in gleaming rubies that Clarice felt were watching her. The chair looked older than the others, much older, but the facade was new, or at least newer. Clarice's sense of curiosity and adventure ended with the sight of that chair.

"Welcome," said the man sitting in the chair. "Please, come join me." He gestured to the chair on his right, one made of fur and leather bound around antler and bone. "Do not worry. Its owner will not be joining us.

Clarice began to cross the room. She couldn't remember when the man had appeared, but he had been waiting for her. A cheap trick, she considered, then immediately dismissed that as the least likely explanation. He was tall, even while seated. He wore black buckled shoes, like she had seen in history books on the pilgrims. Long striped socks disappeared behind trousers held up by a shabby leather strap. A purple coat with tails and large black buttons covered his chest, with the ruffs of his shirt poking out the sleeves. His fingertips poked out of tattered gloves, each black finger wearing a gleaming ring and yellow, but clean nails just slightly longer than they should be. Dreadlocks framed his face with his eyes hidden behind the opaque circular lenses of his glasses. A golden tooth glinted in his otherwise brilliantly white smile. Atop his head was a tall, purple top hat with a faded red ribbon tied around its base. Clarice shuddered at his presence, yet she also had the impression that this was a man who had been with her all her life. She took a seat on the grotesque chair beside him, feeling diminished and afraid, like a scolded pet.

"Now, my child, what is your name?" the man said in a sonorous voice.

She cast her eyes on the ground, noticing a variety of beetles darting in between the leaves of thresh. "Clarice."

"Hmmm," he said, pulling a silver pocket watch from the vest underneath his coat. "The others will be here shortly." No sooner than he had said it, than Clarice noticed a young man sitting precariously in the icy chair on the other side of the skull adorned throne. "Time does not work like it should anymore, does it, Clarice?" the top-hatted man grinned at her, his face a bit more skull like than before. "Do not worry about him, he's already been here and gone. Just a ghost of tomorrow or yesterday, maybe. Even Old Uncle loses track of them sometime. It's not that boy we're waiting for, anyway. We're here for the red child."

Clarice looked at the young man sitting opposite of her. She knew him from somewhere. Probably from high school as he seemed to be about her age. "Sebastian?" she said, cautiously. The young man's eyes flicked towards her briefly, but then focused again on the tent opening.

"Don't be minding that boy," Old Uncle said. "Let's see, we can't have you wearing those clothes. Blue is your color. It brings your eyes out." As he spoke, the jeans and work polo that Clarice wore melted away, turning into a robin's egg blue sun dress. The beautiful dress delighted her enough to drive away her fear for a moment. The young man, Sebastian, was suddenly in a tight fitting grey suit, with a black tie and gleaming ruby cufflinks. "And Old Uncle is already in his Sunday best," the man said with a laugh.

A shimmer of energy went through the tent, and Clarice's gaze went to the entrance once more. Outside she heard murmurs and the low growling of beasts. The flap of the tent pulled back, and a woman stepped forward into the light. "Do not distress, children, she cannot see you until Old Uncle wishes you to be seen."

The woman was perfect. Clarice felt ashamed of her figure for the first time in her life as Mandi walked into the center of the circle of thrones. The red woman wore a dress almost identical to the one on Clarice, except in vibrant crimson rather than blue. The fabric barely constrained the woman's massive breasts, and even the flare of the skirt did little to hide her wide hips.

"Greetings, Amanda," said the Old Uncle. "I have been waiting for you. For a very long time."

Mandi spoke in a beautiful song of a voice, "What are you?" Venomous suspicion laced her voice, but it still enthralled Clarice. "Who else is here? I can smell them."

"Such angry questions for Old Uncle," the man said as he lolled his head to the side. "From such a pretty woman. Come, let Old Uncle kiss your cheek." He waited. "No? Then straight to business then." The ground moved. Tendrils of thresh and earth wrapped around Mandi's arms and legs, binding her in place. She tried to cry out but her voice choked in her throat. A scuffle of bodies tried to rip back the flap and others clawed at the sides of the tent with angry voices, but the fabric did not move. "We will not be disturbed!" said Old Uncle in a thunderous command. The uproar outside the tent ended abruptly.

"You have been making a lot of noise," Old Uncle continued. "What you been doing in this town can't last forever, mon petite, my little bird. You gon need some help. I know you're the child of that red devil, but he's gone. They're all gone 'cept Old Uncle, his shadow, and the Other Fellow. I'm not going, and He definitely ain't going. We can work together, though. This world can feel our touch again, little by little. Or you can go the way of the others, empty chairs and empty thrones. They left Old Uncle here and told him not to play. So, what you say?" His captive sneered at him. Her fists clenched below the iron grip of earth. "No? Your kind always say no. Don't know why Old Uncle keeps asking so nicely. Tell you what. You give Old Uncle all those poor souls you have strung along behind you, and I'll let you keep two or three."

The weight in the air lifted for a moment. "Go back to your shadows," Mandi spat out. "You will have no part of me or mine."

"Oh, you're wrong. If you won't give 'em, then I'll be taken 'em. I'll hide them in my shadow where things will tear them slightly each day, each minute for all eternity. They will scream your name, and you'll hear it." Old Uncle's voice was no longer alluring, but filled with a virulent anger. He shifted forward in his seat. "And first, I will take from you the one thing you couldn't corrupt with that gash between your legs."

Sebastian stood up, and Mandi's eyes went to him. Clarice saw waves of emotion spin through the woman's gaze, but she settled on rage.

Old Uncle whispered to Clarice then, "Now you get to sample a little bit of the old black magic. Come girl, time for you to play your part."

Clarice stood and walked over to Sebastian. He held out his hand to her, and she took it. Cold and light, she thought. In the corner, a wooden box started to play music as a crank turned by an invisible hand. A clinking and dark melody slithered from the inner gears of the music box, and Sebastian started to dance. The young man's handsome features enthralled Clarice as they waltzed between the bound Mandi and the creature sitting on his throne. The blue dress spun in flourishes and twirls as Clarice danced. Staring into his eyes, she felt warm and safe. The music wound to a stop, and he bent down to kiss her. Her lips met his and the chill spread through her body. The warmth in his eyes went hollow.

Mandi watched them as they kissed. And then the world shook. The hands of earth and straw holding her broke and burned away. "Do you think you can fool me with your tricks, Shadowman?" She stepped forward and wrenched Sebastian from Claire's embrace. With a longing look, she brought her hands up to his face and gently caressed his cheek. Then, with a motion of pure ease, she twisted his head with an audible snap. The boy fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, and Clarice screamed.

"Quiet, girl," Mandi snapped. The man leapt from his seat while Mandi was distracted. With unearthly speed, he crossed half the distance to the door, but in an instant, Mandi's hand clenched on the neck of his coat as he tried to wriggle away. "You're not leaving," Mandi said.

"Be glad I'm fond of this coat, girly," he replied. The two of them dissolved into a flurry of motion. A moment later, Old Uncle once again sat in his throne, a knowing smirk on his lips. "You can try to keep me if you like. Many have tried, all have failed. Old Uncle comes and goes as he pleases. And he is pleased to stay a while longer. No need to be making such a mess of his house though." He gestured to the corpse on the ground.

"You thought that doll would fool me?" Mandi replied, her voice now calm and pleasant for the first time.

Clarice looked down at the body and saw that it no longer resembled Sebastian. Perhaps, the thing on the ground had once been a human body, but no more. Ropes of hair bound together chunks of flesh and bone to create a facsimilie of a human body, topped by the skull of a dog with human eyes suspended in the hollow sockets. Revulsion filled her. She wanted to vomit, but the vile thing disappeared in a whiff of smoke.

"You're a strong one, Amanda. Old Uncle has dealt with half a dozen of you rats. One gets cut down and another pops up to take her place. You won't be different. Too much rage in you, too much cruelty. Too much humanity."

A flicker of anger passed over her face, "Your shadows don't have a place in my world. Speak of cruelty and look what you've done to this poor girl. She's terrified and sick. I can give her joy and rapture. That's why your type has gone from the world. Humans stopped wanting to feel like they deserved punishment. They've come round to pleasure."

Old Uncle laughed, "They're meat. Meat without shadows. No better than my little puppet. That boy though, he's out there in the world. My world. Still being followed around by that Other Fellow. You could have taken him, but you didn't. He could have given you and all your other little whores pleasure, couldn't he? But you left him cause he's got a pleasure you can't have anymore, don't he?"

Mandi's eyes scanned the room. Clarice quelled under her gaze. A presence invaded her mind, someone shoving her out of the way and flipping through memories like pages of a scrapbook. When Clarice heard the red lady's voice again, it was cool and pleasant, like running water. The rest of the world fell away and only the siren's song could be heard. She strained to keep her eyes open, to focus on the scene before her. The old man and the woman still conversed, despite Mandi's voice in her head. The words charmed Clarice. The woman wanted help. The woman said that the old man in the chair would hurt her. Of course, rewards would be given for her loyalty, but they were not important. The most important thing was deciding for herself, whether the old man should win or not.

"I won't spend my time here arguing with you. You're a relic of a lost civilization. Take your voodoo and run. Run to the corners of the world that still abide your shadow."

Old Uncle laughed again, "Or what?"

Mandi smiled. Time stopped.

The energy surprised Clarice. Since she'd arrived in the tent, a lethargy clouded her mind and body, but it was suddenly and wonderfully cut away. The scene changed dramatically now that she could see clearly. The old man looked frail and small in his throne, but Mandi, her mistress, stood tall and gloriously illuminated.

"I have angels and devils," Mandi said, calmly. "Wolves and bulls. How hard could it be to make a shadow?"

Clarice started to shrink. The room with its throne and arcane beings grew larger and larger as she dropped to the size of insect. Mandi's hand stretched out over her, plunging her into its shadow. In that shadow, a specter appeared beside Clarice. When Clarice looked directly at it, the form would vanish. But from the corner of her eye, she could define it perfectly. It was a man. His body rigid with muscle and strength. The form was devoid of light except for bright red eyes, glowing and angry. Between his legs was a thick, lengthy cock. The figure moved to her in an instant, grabbing her around the waist. Whatever force comprised the being, his touch was real. Phantom kisses trailed down her neck. With a rough push, he positioned her on all fours. The blue dress vanished in a wisp of smoke, revealing her pale and beautiful body.

"First," Mandi said. "We'll add a nice rump. Who doesn't love a nice big ass."

Mandi snapped her fingers, and Clarice's ass began to ripple and shake. Her hips flared, and the flesh of her new bubble butt bounced into existence. The change encouraged the shadow behind her. The cock rose against her inner thigh. Excited, she gladly rubbed her bare pussy along the length of the rod. It did not matter to her if she couldn't see him, so long as his cock was real enough to fill her up.

"And big titties of course. She can't be a decent part of my brood without some fat tits to suck on."

The force moved around Clarice again. Her breasts filled with delightful warmth as they swelled to three times their normal size. The man pressed against her ass immediately caressed the new titflesh. Desire burned inside of her. She wanted him to fuck her. Reaching beneath her, she grabbed hold of his length, pulling on it with encouragement. Precum oozed from the tip of the wide head, and Clarice's pussy lips swelled with anticipation.

"The aesthetic changes are wonderful of course, but she must be a creature of shadow entirely. The beautiful manifestation of the void."

As Mandi spoke, Clarice the brightness of the world slipped away into a warm and comfortable darkness. The shadows around the room grew longer and more tangible, as if she could reach out and caress them. Two pinches in her back drew her attention momentarily, but the shadowman behind her lined his cock up with her waiting snatch. Just as the pain of growing bones and flesh started, the man pushed his cock deep inside her, filling her up and blocking out the unpleasant sensations with pure ecstasy. He began to thrust quickly. His cock slid in and out her easily as she moaned with pleasure. The rhythm shortened, and she could feel his cock throb. Determined to get more out of him, she let his cock pop out of her and spun around on him.

He did not vanish or slip out of sight. She looked upon a real body of sparkling darkness, not unlike the night sky. As Clarice pushed him down onto his back, his cock still standing rigidly out from, she noticed her own hands had become the same mix of emptiness and light. Sitting back on her haunches, she let the man's cock nestle between the outer lips of her pussy. Flexing her fingers in front of her, she could see her skin was now void of light. She was a shadow. For the first time, new muscles stretched black wings behind her. Her luscious ass arched out as she exercised her new appendages. Rising up, she impaled herself on her beau's rod and began to fuck him vigorously, bringing her wings around to conceal their rutting.

In moments, the cock erupted inside of her, coating her insides with spunk. She wondered if it would be the same lightless color as her lover. Bending over him, she kissed his lips and marveled at the feeling of kissing a shadow. The man craned his neck beneath her and latched onto her left nipple. He sucked hard, and milked flowed from her tit. Orgasm erupted through her, even out to the tips of her shadowy wings. She cried out in pleasure and pulled the man into her chest as his cock began swelling inside of her. The size of it doubled, then tripled, and the man moaned around her spurting tit as his member once again emptied seed into her hungry womb.

Panting, the couple pulled apart. Her wings pulled away from them with a flourish, exposing them to the gathered crowd. How had she not seen them before? Dozens of people, all of the same shadowy existence as herself and the man currently still inside of her. The more she looked at them, the more she could discern defining features. All of them were of similar build and similar age, and all of them were without clothes. Her eyes adjusted to seeing a new world, and she smiled at them. Yet, they were afraid, and Clarice saw why.

Behind them in the huge expanse of the tent, roughly where Old Uncle sat, a different kind of darkness waited, swirling and infinite, desperate to swallow up all the light in the universe. Deep in that void, she saw the face of a laughing man with matte red eyes.

She rose from the spent man beneath her. Clarice flexed her new wings, then with a flap, she rose a few feet off the ground. The gathered people of shadow cowered back from her, but did not run. She spoke with a clear and loud voice, "I am a gift," she said to them. "I bring the blessing of my mistress. I can free you from the bondage of this slaver. But you'll need to be stronger." She pointed behind her, "Stronger like him."

The man she had lain with convulsed on the ground. Wisps of smoke lashed out from his body as his skin cracked. Faint glimmers of a dark red light ebbed their way through to the surface of his skin. His shoulders broadened as bones cracked and muscle grew. Wings of his own sprouted from his back and a long barbed tail burst out from the tip of his spine. Between his muscular thighs, his lengthy cock and swollen balls hung waiting for their next fucking. His face no longer resembled that of a human, but looked like a gargoyle with gnashing teeth and greedy eyes which fell on another of the shadow people, a petite woman.

With a roar, he leaped the twenty feet over to her, pulling her into his arms with a tremendous strength. Pinning her to the ground, he lined his monstrous cock up with her waiting pussy, the glisten of arousal betraying her eagerness. With a swift plunge, the gargoyle sheathed his entire length inside of her, eliciting a wanton moan. Instantly, similar changes began in her body. Her breasts swelled and grew laden with milk. Her ass grew into jiggling globes of delicious flesh. The pair of them rutted and clawed at one another as she transformed into a demonic visage.