"...so yeah if you're new in town, I happen to be one of the experts on local landma..." Amalia tried to pay attention as the small town hick gave out his spiel. He tried to explain why she should let him take her for a tour around town... while his eyes remained hopelessly glued to her considerable cleavage. But there was something off about the whole situation. She felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. And with every second she came closer to...
He was staring at her, sitting against the worn diner counter that awkwardly took up at least 50% of the space. The diner itself looked like it hadn't been renovated since 1975 and the faded green and white paint had chipped and faded away like a discarded peppermint. The quaint atmosphere seemed to drain like blood out of the room as his sunken eyes observed her. His gaze was clinical. Like a biologist before a dissection. Or a mortician before a cadaver. He wore simple black business suit with a tie with a single white stripe down the middle. They pressed and ironed perfectly, a kind of look that even the best dry cleaners couldn't match. He looked like a G-Man from an old 80's horror flick. She knew it was probably nothing, but every part of her body felt like a caged animal.
She swallowed hard, preparing to bolt from her seat and race out of the diner as fast as she could. But, the instant she turned, she felt something touch her wrist. Ice-cold and incredibly smooth. It felt like wax figure. She turned and there he was. His face now twisted in a sick facsimile of a smile, his flesh parted like folds of pig fat.
"Hello, Amalia. We've been waiting for you." He gestured for her to sit and despite herself, she found her body moving against her will, slowly lowering back down onto the worn red leather stool.
"We? Who...who are...?" Within seconds, a tall chocolate milk was lying on the counter directly next to her. It seemed ridiculous, but the milk itself seemed ominous. The thick liquid bubbling with sinister intent.
"A group with an opportunity for a young woman. Such as yourself. Drink." His voice was normal, almost friendly. It felt...forcibly reassuring. Like a laugh track.
"I don't think I..."
"Drink." His voice dropped immediately. The veneer of cheer drained slowly from his lips. This was not a request. This was a threat, and even though she didn't understand what was going on, she found herself bringing the glass to her lips before she even realized she was doing it.
"There. Now can you at least tell me what's...what's..." Her vision began to twist. The diner walls began to strip, peeling layer by layer. And the man was...growing taller and thinner with every second. Whoever or whatever he was, she knew what was happening. She was drugged.
She ran from the stool, tripping slightly before closing herself into the safety of the Women's Washroom. She turned towards the mirror and looked at herself for a moment. In the reflection stood a young black woman, her curls reaching the start of her shoulders. Her skin was a light caramel, which contrasted with the large dark circles that were etched underneath her eyes. She hadn't gotten much sleep since she had started touring with her book. Despite this, she was still quite attractive. Her heavy hourglass figure was accentuated in the bright floral printed sundress she was wearing. Her breasts were barely held inside the fabric but this was a recent problem considering she was just resized for a 36F. The bottom of the skirt flowed out into wide, womanly hips and a dramatically curved ass that she'd always been quite proud of. For a moment, she was fooled into thinking everything was normal.
That is until she saw the lump bulging near her wrist...
At first, she thought it was a bruise from when he grabbed her. That is, until it started pulsating and moving steadily up body.
Spreading like a disease.
Her skin began to inflate and distort, her dress shredding as her flesh poured out in endless waves.
Then everything went dark...
"Mroghth... Chernagalaka...roktalata..." She tried to focus as her vision slowly began to focus.
"It was a dream, it was one crazy fucking dream." She thought.
At least, until she saw them.
Draped in long black cloaks with sharp pointed tops. Near the top of the cloaks was a hole, spiraled out like four tentacles with a dark black circle in the middle. This seemed cut out but it was impossible to see through it. Even from the tendrils of light spreading from the torches that surrounded her.
"Oh...I see you're awake." One of the things moved towards her. She couldn't see past the cloak, but the voice was incredibly reassuring. Friendly even. Her eyes widened at the sinister recognition.
"What the fuck is this? Is this some kind of cult shit?" She tried to force herself to her feet only to realize that her hands and feet were bound in some kind of smooth, inky black cord. She was naked, her body splayed like a St. Andrew's Cross. Her legs were spread wide, with her pussy now completely on display. Her massive tits heaved heavily as her breathing sped up. She expected the floor to feel rough beneath her but it was just cool like hardened satin against her huge, and exposed, asscheeks. She was relieved to find her body was normal but that relief disappeared quickly when she panned her eyes around. Ignoring the cloaked figures, they were in some kind of massive cavern. The walls were black but, while she assumed they were rock, they almost looked like flesh. Black, hard and...pulsing. She had to shake herself to make sure but she wasn't crazy. They were indeed pulsing.
"We are here in the Chamber of the Seed, to provide this sacrifice..." The voice came from one of the other cloaked figures. His voice was deep, powerful and almost...sensual in nature. In his hand was a long black staff, with a purple tentacle-like patterns twisting along the length.
"What the fuck is going on? Look I'm a famous author. If you contact my agent, I'm sure you can make a lot of money. Please just let me-" Before she could finish, she felt her throat start to constrict. Almost like she was having an allergic reaction.
"Silence, slave." Behind the cloaked man with a staff, another came from the circle. His voice was venom, burning her ears like acid. Amalia didn't know how he did that to her, but at this point her brain was beginning to shut down from terror. She managed to focus briefly on the man who spoke. His fingers began to move, two fingers thrusting forward into the air. She wondered what the hell he was doing, until she felt it. It wasn't possible, but his fingers were now inside of her. She felt the tips dragging past her pussy walls until it curled back. The motion began to increase in speed as he raised his thumb and began stroking it across the air.
