The Crimson Mil

Mandi looked out over her club from her upstairs office. The men and women of town were flocking to the Crimson. Her work brought her such great joy. These poor people were being liberated. Men abandoning loveless marriages to worship the first new pussy they'd seen in decades. Women coming to see the spectacle and winding up on their knees with the first cock they could find gushing cum over their lips. Mandi could feel all their lust rising up and wrapping around her. She had given so many the choice of becoming something more than human, and all of them had accepted. Her power still had limits, though.

A pack of college kids entered the club. Mandi watched as Lexie and Trixie prowled over to them. The first of them would be liberated of his humanity within minutes. The young men had brought a girl with them, someone to tease and taunt as bustier women paraded around for their amusement. The consolation fuck after their anticipated night of ogling flesh. The girl probably loved one of the boys, desperate for his attention, and willing to go to the Crimson just to prove she could hang out with the guys. Mandi weighed the girl's soul, should she be rewarded for her determination or punished for her weakness, a desperation for value in the boy's eyes.

Movement behind her drew her attention away from the girl. "What is it?"

A low voice growled, "We brought him. The preacher." Other voices, the lounging audience of fucking creatures, laughed and yelped with excitement.

"Very good," she replied. "Bring him to me."

She turned her attention back to the young girl in the crowd. All around her, eyes watched and waited. Someone handed her a drink. The delicious smell of it surprised her. The young men drooled as Lexie and Trixie's quivering flesh mesmerized them, their cocks swelling with blood while their little mouse that had tagged along went forgotten. The girl rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small packet, then popped a little pink pill in her mouth. She washed it down with the daiquiri. Mandi mused on the action, trying to remember the purpose of those little pink tablets. The girl's form appeared in her mind, the belly swelling and rounding as breasts became laden with milk. "Could be fun," she thought.

The door to the office opened again. Wolf and Hound carried a man in a cheap suit between them. They dropped him and gave him a few suspicious sniffs which caused the man to wriggle away from them. "Father Edwards," Mandi said in a soothing tone. "Has something upset you?"

The reverend struggled to get to his feet, crawling away from the wolves. "What is this place? What are these monstrosities?"

"You are at the Crimson Club. My name is Mandi, I own this place. These are my dogs, Wolf and Hound. Go play boys," she dismissed them. "Have they treated you poorly?"

"They're...they're abominations!" he sputtered. He wasn't an old man, but past his prime with thin hair and a gaunt face . Sweat beaded on his forehead. and his eyes squinted in the dim lighting. His body was paunchy and short, with stubby fingers and an unpleasant gait.

"You shouldn't use such words," Mandi said as she walked over to the bar, eliciting another round of snickering laughter from the shadows of the room. Edwards tried to see the source of the sound, but Mandi kept her friends hidden lest Edwards's heart fail him. She picked out two glasses and filled both with bright pink liquid from a tap. "Tell me, Father, do you drink? Or is that forbidden by your vows or whatever it is that keeps you so pure."

"Our Father in heaven keeps me pure," he said defiantly.

Moving to the far side of the room, Mandi settled down in a small seating area. She placed one of the glasses on the coffee table and offered a seat to him. "Then let's put that to the test. Please, join me. We have things to talk about." She took a seat, adjusting her robe to reveal just the hint of her upper thigh. She brushed her red hair behind her shoulders.

Hesitantly, Father Edwards made his way over to the seat. "Am I kidnapped? Why am I here?"

Mandi took a sip of her drink. "I never get tired of this stuff, it just tastes...heavenly. Now, Roger, that's your first name, right? I'll call you Roger then. I've heard that you're not too fond of our little club here. That you feel it's, let's see what did you call it? An affront to God."

"This place is a den of sin, certainly an affront to God and all good people. Tonight, you have proved it to me more than even I believed. Those things that dragged me in here. Outright demons walking the earth. Now you sit before me as the Whore of Babylon, no doubt. God will strike you down with the heavenly host in a fury of righteousness."

Mandi held up her hand. "That's enough. Words, words, words. You've never believed any of it, have you? You've been more of a man of faith since seeing my dogs than you have been in how many decades of standing in your pulpit."

"God will not forsake me," he said, but the tenor of his voice faded.

"Why would any god listen to you? The last time I checked, your god is not too fond of false prophets. Maybe this is your hell, Roger. Maybe you've died and been pulled into the underworld kicking and screaming. Maybe I died in a bus crash and Lucifer came to me and turned me into your Babylonian Whore. Or maybe I'm just a slut that loves to get fucked." She tugged at her robe and it fell open, exposing her massive breasts. "What about celibacy? How have you done with that virtue?" She uncrossed her legs, giving Roger a full view of her pussy. "What if I wanted to fuck you right now? How long would it take you to give up those petty little virtues."

Roger's eyes widened. His hands fumbled dumbly at his jacket pocket, revealing a small holy book. Touching it gave him the illusion of confidence once more. "What has made you this way? What wrongs have been done to you in this life? I can pray for you. I have prayed for many thousands of lost souls and brought them back into the flock."

Mandi rolled her eyes. "Let's go look at some of your flock." She stood up and left behind her robe, striding past him on a pair of red stilettos. She noted his eyes linger on her beautiful ass for a moment before he looked away. "Come with me. You can follow willingly, or I can bring Wolf back in to encourage you. And don't forget your drink."

***

Roger trailed behind her as they weaved their way through the labyrinthine corridors of the club. Eventually they came to a long thin hallway with huge windows on either side. As Roger approached them, he could see they were one way mirrors into the VIP rooms. He shied away from the sight and started to turn back, but somewhere in the corridor behind him, he could hear the raspy breathing of the wolf beasts.

"Look," Mandi commanded.

In the first room, a young man struggled to keep himself upright in a chair. His intoxication had reached a dangerous level, but still his eyes stayed on the centerpiece of the room. On the stage, a busty, thin woman slowly gyrated her hips, pushing her ass back at the young man. Her thong barely covered her slit, and her ass jiggled wantonly at her prey. The harlot looked at herself in the mirror, unwittingly staring at the preacher on the other side of the glass.

"That's Kitty on the stage. The man's name is Trace. Trace has had quite a lot to drink, and Kitty is just too horny to deal with it. They're going to fuck. When they do, Trace's soul or mind or humanity or whatever it is that makes him the good guy who never would have shot a load into a stripper will boil away. All that restraint that makes humans so utterly dull, gone in a squishy screwfest. Just watch."

Trace staggered towards the stage in a dumb stupor, his hand was in his pants desperately fisting his erection to the sight of Kitty's gyrations. She turned to him and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him in to her chest, forcing him down on her teat as fur started to spread all over her body. Her tail burst out from the top of her ass, swishing quickly in the air as the glamour fell away. Tiny cat ears poked out of the top of her head as her back became a furry orange color . Her nails became claws that raked along Trace's body, shredding his shirt. The sight of fur on the stripper's body startled him, but he forgot his worries as she pulled aside her thong to offer him her sopping wet cunt. He fumbled with his pants for a moment, and his cock sprang into the air. He slipped into her in one stroke, groaning at the heat surrounding his cock. He lifted her up and bounced her up and down as her tail curled between their legs to lightly flick against his balls.

Mandi leaned near to the preacher's ear and whispered with hot breath, "Now this part is just for you." The preacher had restrained himself through mixed horror and curiosity, but his erection was evident.

Trace's face contorted in pain. The tendons in his legs grew tight and elongated. His feet ached within his shoes. A bristling, itching feeling spread over his skin as his body hair grew longer and thicker. His skin darkened in color as the fur spread. He felt his new tail growing out from the base of his spine. Kitty rutted against her mate in a faster and faster heat. She pulled at his ass, trying to get him deeper, unwilling to let an inch of his cock slip out of her pussy. As they fucked, she could feel his cock swelling, filling up her cunt more and more.

Trace let out an angry growl as the muscles in his chest shifted and grew. His entire body was covered in a black fur and his eyes had turned a gleaming yellow. With new strength he flipped Kitty around, giving her ass a firm slap, eliciting a loud wail of pleasure. He pulled her tail out of the way and pressed his thumb against her asshole. She purred and squeezed her breasts in anticipation. Trace placed a firm hand on her shoulder, and the head of his cock pressed against her ass. She wiggled around, enjoying the feeling of his massive dick sliding up and down her ass crack. With a forceful push, he slid into her ass, as she screamed. They fucked into one another, screeching out sounds of pleasure and slight pain.

From the other side of the mirror, Mandi stroked herself to the sight of her newest creation. She watched Trace's balls seize up. He went quiet, pulling Kitty close to him. His balls throbbed as cum surged up his dick into her ass. Gout after gout emptied into her butt until it forced him to pull out, finishing his load on her inner thighs. He pushed her down on the table and crawled on top of her, mewling with contentment.

"You see, preacher," Mandi said, leaving her own pleasure for a moment. "They're happy. Two people made just alike enjoying a nice fuck." She looked down at his bulge. "Looks like you enjoyed the show. Come on, more to see. The next room is my favorite."

***

They continued down the hallway, passing rooms with dancers sometimes mundanely going through the motions and other rooms filled with an orgy of writhing youthful bodies. Roger tried to focus on his life outside of this hell. He tried to see his wife and his daughter. He remembered his counseling from his sponsor. This woman did not have power over him, despite how much she may twist his words. His faith was stronger.

They turned from the observation corridor into a room filled with odd pneumatic piping filled with pink liquid. From sight, Roger would expect the room to smell of machinery or the sour smell of chemicals. Instead, his head swam with a thousand amazing scents, each calling back a memory, but the most distinctive was a particular wine he had on his twenty third birthday. He salivated at the memory. They entered another observation room, and his stomach sank at the sight.

In the center of the room was a woman. Or at least, Roger thought, she had been a woman. Bessie was on her hands and knees, completely naked. Her breasts were huge, bulbous sacs laden with milk, twice the size of her head. She had to crawl around on her hands from the weight, keeping her back arched upwards to avoid dragging them on the floor. Four large round nipples protruded from each breast, each slightly dripping milk as she struggled across the room. Her goal was the grotesque machine in the center of the room. Roger had seen something like it before at a dairy farm.

A door opened and two men walked into the room, one was shirtless and clearly an employee of the club. The other was a customer, Roger recognized him. "Malcolm?"

"Do you know our guest?" Mandi said. "He's been a regular for three weeks now. He's just heard rumors of the milking room, but tonight's the night he finally gets in. In several ways, of course. You see, he's always wanted his own little milk cow, to fuck and drink from. He yearns to squish those fat udders together and fuck his little prick into them. That's just the kind of guy he was all along. You didn't know that about him?"

Roger cleared his throat nervously. He was glad that the corridor was dark, since it hid Mandi's stunning beauty and nudity, but it left him no where else to look than at the room. "He volunteers at the church on Tuesdays. Leads the at risk counseling program."

Mandi laughed. "Well, you're about to see a whole new man."

The employee, probably another of Mandi's mutants, guided Bessie the rest of the way to the machine, by tugging lightly on her bell collar. She mooed gratefully as he bent down beneath her and guided her teats into the suction cups. He fastened the rigging to her and gave her a hard slap on the ass when he was finished. She mooed at him with her eyes full of lust, she could smell arousal in the room, but couldn't turn to see Malcolm waiting eagerly for his chance. The employee flicked a switch and a machine began to hum. Pink milk started to stream from the cups through the pipes Roger had seen in the adjacent room. The employee said something to Malcolm and left.

"Must I watch this? What is the purpose of showing me weak men succumb to your poison?" Roger tried to feel anger or disgust, anything to cover up his arousal.

Mandi answered, "I'm not holding open your eyes. Shut them, and it will all be over soon. But, I want you to watch because it's important that you understand the bargain. These changes only happen to the people that want them, the people that let me in. And so many of them want it. They beg for it open armed, desperate for the one good fuck that has always been too taboo to ask for. Just like Malcolm here. Just like you, even if you don't know it yet."

"I am not like these men," Roger said with paced breath. "I am a servant of God."

"So was Malcolm."

The eager young man had removed his clothes. He eyed Bessie with a fiendish glee. He pulled down his boxers and freed his hard cock, which finally gave Bessie a reason to pay attention. She could smell his arousal and mooed happily at the thought of getting fucked while she was milked. The daily thrill of it never tired her. It only increased her desire for more cock and more cum. She jutted her ass upwards to entice her newest mate even further, hoping to drive him mad with lust as milk sprayed out of her udders.

Malcolm stroked his erection, savoring the sight of the glorious woman. He could barely contain his excitement as he imagined slipping into her hot, slick cunt. Getting close to her, he stroked her back with his free hand, calmly talking to her like he would to a frightened heifer. Her skin was smooth and soft as his rough hand moved down towards her full ass. He admired the quiver of her flesh as she bucked and mooed for him.

Moving behind her, Malcolm positioned himself at the entrance to her pussy. He savored the view of her ass pressed against his crotch, her smooth back twisting from side to side with yearning, and the tight collar around her neck clanging as she bucked with pleasure. With seamless effort, he pushed forward ever so slightly, sliding into her hot canal with ease. He let out a slow groan, and she reciprocated with a happy moo.

"You see, reverend," Mandi said, moving over to him. "Even your most diligent followers have their secret little sins." She placed her hand on the frightened man's chest, feeling his heart pounding within. "Why not just give in a little? You may enjoy it after all. Can't you just imagine it? That poor little wife of yours could never fuck you like I can."

He backed away from her, struggling to keep his composure. "My wife loves me. That is a connection you can never understand, beast."

"Even with all that shit you're carrying around in your head, padre?" Mandi teased. She could taste his doubt. "And you should really stop using such hurtful words. Beast, whore, slut. Such talk will just make it more awkward for you once you join my flock." She paused for a second to watch Malcolm eagerly hump into Bessie. "My little milk cow has been producing enough to keep everyone on the edge of cumming for months now. Her tits have helped turn everyone in this building into an acolyte of my faith. Look at him fuck, he loves it so much. It's almost like he understands the wanton lust that she feels every single day. He's really a saint to stick his dick in her, mingle his cum with the other gallons that have filled that pussy."

Roger tried to block out her word, but he couldn't shut out the scene before him. He watched the cow woman shake and shudder with orgasm again and again as the pumps pulled quart after quart of the milk from her teats. Malcolm's head rocked back with pleasure as his dick was bathed in the juices of arousal from his mate.

Roger could see the man's amazement at his situation, and the eagerness to fill his heifers cunt with seed. The harlot beside him wanted a sign of weakness, a sign that he was succumbing to this mental assault. He resolved himself to give nothing to her, but his body continued to betray him. He felt a stirring in himself that had laid dormant for a very long time. His wife had never satisfied him, and he knew that Mandi could sense that. He shut it out of his mind and focused on a prayer he had memorized at counseling. The words seemed hollow in the presence of such unhindered debauchery.

Malcolm bent over his mate, groping her sides and feeling a primal satisfaction with the touch of her flesh. He wanted more and more of her. His thighs slapped into her as he pounded away, getting nearer and nearer to orgasm.

"Bessie loves to be milked, but it's just not enough. We're going to need other cows in the herd if I want to turn this whole city. With your help of course."

Roger's meditation snapped. "What? My help? Why would I help you, demon?"

Mandi didn't respond, but concentrated her gaze on the scene before them.

Malcolm's face contorted with pleasure. He gripped Bessie's hips roughly, pulling her back onto his cock as hard as he could. He felt the surge of cum building at the base of his cock, twinging pleasure racked his body as he fought back the urge to spew into her for as long as possible. Finally, he felt the first burst of hot semen empty into her. He let out a low, frustrated moan of pleasure as he felt his own cum surround his dick as her pussy massaged his cock.

The glass dulled the sounds, but Roger could still hear them. He heard the man who had been a friend groan and grunt as he fucked this poor woman. He heard the man's groans become low moos.

Mandi's hand returned to the reverend's chest, stroking up and down to sooth him. "When Bessie joined, I was pretty new at this. I made her for practical purposes. I needed milk and a lot of it. There is not much elegance in her design, but that's my fault. I have refined my abilities, father."

Malcolm pulled away from Bessie, his dick limply falling out of her. He doubled over in pain. The sound of cracking bones filled the room, and he let out a loud bleat as he collapsed. Muscles moves and reformed. His ass filled out first, growing to a round, plump rump which even he would have loved to slide his dick in. Next, his pectoral muscles softened and grew, his nipples getting round and dark. His cock shriveled and his balls withdrew into him. He let out a small whimper of pleasure as new sensations filled his body. Breasts grew out rapidly, and he fell to all fours to accommodate their growth. His body shifted from one gender to another as his mind evaporated in pleasure.