Crimson Reborn

A small town disappeared. Those who tried to remember it could conjure up nothing more than a faint buzzing at the back of their mind. Those who went to where it once stood saw nothing but a vacant lot. The town's name and the names of its populace disappeared from records. Those who had family in the town forgot them, growing curious as to the strangers in their photos, and tossing them out, finding them unpleasant.

Within that town, a man resisted. The Crimson Lady failed and the world she had created dissolved. It was a disappointment.

But, it did produce a chance. A chance to roam. A chance to take the gift somewhere else.

A being emerged from the shimmer in reality that had once been a town. This shade saw the bleak world around her and felt great loss. Her? Yes, she had been a woman once, long ago. Between then and now she'd been something more. She had tangled with gods, pulled out the true desires of mortals, and came close to the pure ascendance. Now, she would never have that chance. She could feel herself slipping.

Anger. Anger and regret of the world she could have built. Ruined by her lingering humanity. Ruined by the girl who had been called Amanda, a pathetic scrawny thing. But she did not have time to mourn. She had a gift to give. A small vial in her hand, the last of the precious fluid that had so radically changed her life. But she had been the wrong choice. In the end, she'd proved too weak and too reckless. She must make a better choice than her predecessor.

The world and all its people sprawled out before her. She reached out, searching through millions of souls.

She found someone. Someone perfect. The Crimson Lady smiled.

Lucy scattered rose petals on the bed. The house smelled of lavender and rose. And it damn well better, she thought. She'd spent the whole day cleaning, scouring out the insistent dust and grime that pervaded their home. She finished the artful decoration of the bed and went to check herself in the mirror. For the moment, she wore a robe, hiding the surprise underneath. It fit as best it could and David never really noticed her outfits anyway, always more interested in getting them off of her than seeing her in them. Just to be sure, she pulled open the robe and turned from side to side in front of the mirror. The red lace clung to her in all the spots it should. Her breasts looked much bigger in the outfit, but she still frowned at them. Letting the robe drape off her, falling around her wrists, she craned her neck to see her ass. She arched her back, sticking her butt out at an extreme angle to create the illusion of curvature, but that barely helped. Flatter than she always dreamed, but David never seemed to mind.

Pulling her robe back up, she padded softly into the den, checking the roast in the crock pot. The smell fought against the aromatics in the air creating a rather unpleasant mixture. 5:40, David would be home soon. Whatever he thought, Lucy was pleased with herself. They never did anything for Valentine's Day. When they started dating, back in high school, he'd done sweet things like making her cards and getting her candy, but that stopped. It was a mutual decision at first. She found it relieving to not have holiday after holiday where she thought up some gift for him. He felt the same. But over time, Lucy felt that practical arrangement had devolved into a rather lazy relationship. She found herself hoping that David was keeping secret gifts for her, only to be disappointed when nothing came. He was busy after all.

So, she decided to break the cycle. They were far too young to be in ruts, she thought. They'd married right out of high school against her father's wishes. But he'd done the same, marrying her mother at twenty with Lucy herself coming along when her parents were only twenty one. Lucy had no intention of following that path exactly, not wanting children until her thirties if at all, but still it gave her parents no room to judge. It hadn't been a surprise to her or David, but it had shocked their friends and family. The couple had already spent months talking about it. Lucy and David were watching all their friends grow up and move on with their lives. The ones that weren't engaged had gone off to college, leaving the podunk Small Creek behind. Everyone they knew fell into two categories, first those wanting to get the hell out of Small Creek and the South in general at any cost. And then second, those who were putting down roots as fast as they could. David and Lucy didn't want to be part of either group, but found themselves forced to choose. With no options for the former, they chose the latter and got hitched.

The first two years of marriage had been wonderful. David still had the energy of a teenager, coming home each night ready to snap up his wife. Lucy had fallen right into the housewife role, spending her days cleaning, shopping, or cooking. In that first year, she'd cooked everything she knew how and learned a hundred other recipes just to fill out the weeks. David went to work for his father, which was pretty much the only thing that David ever thought he'd do. He didn't mind the work as he'd grown up around it. Lucy didn't exactly know what he did throughout the day. He worked in timber, though she didn't think he'd ever cut down a tree. Management, he would tell her before launching into a long explanation of payroll and health insurance and this and that. None of it interested her, and David never seemed too interested in talking about it, so they both left well enough alone. Maybe that's where things started going wrong.

They lost interest in one another. Lucy's mother told her that it was a common symptom of marrying young. She said that it took time to understand your husband and that interest could drift in and out, especially for the men. That never sounded right to Lucy, but it put a new worry in her head. If she wasn't interesting to her husband, then who was. The decline started about six months ago. David no longer came home with a spry step and eager hands. He came home tired. His brother had started to pile more responsibility on him and it wore at him, Lucy knew. For a while, she worked hard to keep his spirits up, but he drained her spirit instead. She stopped cooking anything from scratch, relying on frozen dinners and take out. The house fell into disarray as well with laundry going unwashed and floors unswept. All the while, the only alarm in Lucy's head told her that it was too soon. Not that it shouldn't happen or that it wouldn't eventually, but that it had happened when they were too young.

She went to the blinds and looked out at the driveway. No sign of David yet. No sign of anything, really. Their closest neighbor was a five minute drive. She'd never appreciated how isolated their little town was until they moved in to their own house. Growing up, she'd always been around someone. Or at least, in the few times that she was totally alone, she was so thankful for the respite that she didn't notice the emptiness around her. Living with David had shown her that emptiness in an ugly light. She listened to too many true crime stories and watched too many scary movies to live in such isolation. It was too easy to imagine masked men loitering in the woods outside of her house.

Wait. What was that? Something at the edge of the yard. Something red. The quick flutter in her chest made her feel foolish. Only imagination, she reminded herself. I'm nervous and seeing things, that's all. The bright flash of headlights interrupted her thoughts. A new flush of nerves flowed through her as David rattled down their long driveway in his beat up truck. Lucy ran to the hallway mirror to check herself one last time, tossing the robe aside in the process. Her short, bob haircut of dirty blonde looked messier than she'd liked, but she couldn't do much for it now. Her petite frame made her screw her lips up in a contemplative, dissatisfied twist. She tried not to look at the small pudge forming above her panty line. She pulled her underwear a little tighter and went to the bedroom.

Pausing for a moment to decide how best to display herself, she crawled onto the bed, reclined on the pillows and let her legs spread out. One thing she knew would get her husband going was the sight of her open and inviting, with the added benefit of downplaying her flat butt and small breasts. Lucy found herself surprisingly excited. Listening carefully for the telltale sounds of the truck door slam and the rattle of the front door, she allowed her hand to slip down her stomach and under the waistband. She'd trimmed herself down to a small tuft of hair above her pussy. David never said he had a preference, but she liked to keep it neat just in case he decided to go down on her. Not that she would need it tonight, apparently. Her fingers found soaking lips and teased at the idea of pushing inside her. Her other hand moved up and squeezed her breast. Would David like it if I'm in here getting myself off when he comes in?

The door opening snapped her from her reverie. Her breath caught in her throat. She waited to hear her name called or to see the shadow of her husband coming down the hallway. Instead, she heard the refrigerator open and the rattle of glass and metal. Seconds passed. Lucy suddenly felt exposed. She withdrew her hands and let her legs close. Biting her lip, she went to the side of the bed, ready to go see if something was wrong. Before she could, David appeared in the doorway holding a beer.

"What's all this?"

He stopped to get a beer. Rose petals leading to the bedroom and his wife in a fucking stripper outfit and he stopped to get a beer. Lucy tried to shake away the embarrassment. Despite his attitude, David had a leer in his eye and a visible bulge in his pants. "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetie. I thought we could celebrate a little before dinner."

David took a long drink and then set down the bottle. He started unbuttoning his shirt while looking at Lucy. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble, hon." He pulled off the shirt, revealing his farmer tan and wiry body. He started kicking off his boots. Not exactly the romantic, passionate throes Lucy imagined, but it was getting to that. "Or you should have let me know, I could have stopped by and gotten you some chocolates."

God, I need to shut him up before he ruins what little mood there is left. She crawled onto all fours, prowling down to the foot of the bed. Reaching out, she grabbed hold of his belt and pulled him close to her. Working quickly, she pulled open his fly and yanked down his boxers. Her husband was nothing special, at least from what her friends had told her about their own adventures. The five inch cock bobbed in front of her, the same as it ever was, just the right size for Lucy as far as she knew. Opening her mouth, she took the head between her lips and heard her husband groan. The fire in her belly returned as her tongue undulated along the bottom of his cock. David moaned.

Finally, he's getting into it. She arched her back, letting her ass wiggle in the air, making certain he could see the underwear pulled tight against her pussy and ass. His hands moved to the back of her head, massaging her scalp as he started to thrust. Wait. David grunted and she tried to stop, but it was too late. Her heart sank as she took his cock fully into her mouth as it started to spurt. Warm cum splashed against the back of her throat as her husband tensed. She sucked, dutifully, cleaning his cock until he backed away. She swallowed and tried to manage a smile.

"God, sorry," he said, pulling his boxers back up. "Just, it's been a while and you look amazing. Hell, this whole thing is like...a fantasy. What's got into you?" He fumbled back and picked up his beer.

Lucy sat back on her haunches and shrugged. She tried to suppress the anger, after all what could she expect. She'd done too good a job and who could she blame for that except herself. Her wet pussy mocked her. The lingering taste of his cum on her tongue kept her excited. She wanted to strip out of the panties and shove her fingers in her pussy, just to make her husband watch. He could ask to lick her and she'd say no, forcing him to watch until she came on her own to the sight of his limp cock. What? Where did that come from?

The anger passed. She remembered all the caveats and stipulations in their relationship and happiness came along with them. She hopped out of the bed and went to give him a hug, "Just thought we could spice things up. Play your cards right and I'll keep this on all night. Or at least until you take it off me."

"Lord knows I'll try," he said. "But turn around time ain't what it used to be."

'Ain't what it used to be.' You're twenty-one for god's sake. Can you not still get it up twice in one night when your wife is desperate to get fucked. "Come on. I'll keep my robe off while we have supper. Let's see if you can resist."

She put the robe back on after David's third beer.

They ate with stilted conversation, Lucy more than a little conscious of his cum in her belly. David complimented the food, the way she looked, the effort she had put in, but with every compliment came a mention of his long day or his bad sleep or his early morning to come. After dinner, he offered to clean the dishes, but she stopped him a few minutes after it was clear how little he knew about doing the dishes in his own house. Her own practicality took over at that point. Rather than face caked on grease the next day, she started to wash up things, always aware of the negligee on underneath her robe.

At some point, David disappeared to the living room with his fourth beer, where he sprawled out on the couch to watch whatever he could find on the television. As a petty revenge, Lucy banged the dishes and slammed the cabinets whenever she could. He could still perk up, she lied to herself. No, the truth, as she knew deep down, was that she'd be lucky if he stopped at four beers. Otherwise, he would be an incomprehensible fool until he fell into the bed, entirely disinterested with his half naked wife and likely ranting about his brother. Lucy dumped the leftovers in the trash and grumbled at it being full. She thought of calling David to take it out, but feared that would only stir her to further emotion, either anger or depression, and she wanted no more of either. She could feel herself teetering on the edge of some kind of rash reaction and didn't want to ruin her last chance, however small, of getting laid.

The mid February air was crisp, but not cold, even with so little on underneath her robe. She hoisted the bag of garbage up and held it at arm's length as she crossed the yard to the shed. With the bag deposited in the bin, she paused for a moment outside of the shed. It was dark and no one, but her half drunk husband for a mile. Lucy tried to think back through her life and find the spot where things got away from her. As a teenager, she'd had a plan of some kind. Maybe to go to college or maybe to marry someone from somewhere other than Small Creek. Surely, it hadn't been this that she wanted. This was something that happened to people when they let their guard down. This life was something that slipped in unnoticed and grew until it overwhelmed you.

"What if it was different?" said a voice.

Lucy did not understand at first. She was alone. Had she imagined it? Then, she saw someone. At first, the woman was nothing but a shadow. The shadow took form and became a young woman, a young woman of astounding beauty, dressed in a summer dress the color of blood. "Oh," the word slipped from Lucy's mouth and she stumbled back. "Who are you? How did you—"

"I am the answer to your prayer," the woman said, her voice luxurious and inviting. The longer Lucy looked at her, the more voluptuous the woman became. The stranger's dress grew tighter as breasts threatened to burst forth. The flowing skirt billowed out in the back as the woman's ass seemed to swell. "A lazy husband who doesn't pay attention to you. A young woman in her prime feeling her life slip away from her. I'm the patron saint of such poor souls, my dear."

Why aren't I afraid? Why didn't I scream when someone spoke to me out of the darkness? Why am I so, fucking, wet? The sight of the woman alone was driving Lucy toward inhibition. She wanted to plunge her hand into her snatch with abandon. She wanted to drop to her knees in front of this goddess and worship from the woman's pussy lips. But no, Lucy realized that the woman was not talking down to her. Lucy knew this woman wanted her as well. "What are you?"

"I am the last vestige of something great and powerful. I am the last reflection of a world so much more beautiful than this one. And I am the one who can give you the power to bring that world back." Her hand came up and flickered. Between her fingers appeared a vial containing a milky substance the color of a cherry slush. "With this." Before she realized it, Lucy's hand had already reached out to take the vial. The woman pulled it away. "And a promise."

"A promise?"

The woman smiled a devilish grin, "A promise to put aside all your false morality and decency. A promise to abandon the restrains of earthly life to live beyond them, to live as a goddess, adhering to no laws but your own. A promise to give yourself entirely to this, to become a pure force, stronger than nature itself. If you can promise that, simply take the vial and drink."

Lucy felt something then that she'd never felt before. A small, tiny voice deep inside of her that she might have called a gut reaction or a premonition, had she lingered on the thought. That small voice told her not to take the vial. It told her to run away, as far as she could. Or to tie herself down or break her own arms to stop herself from taking the cursed drink. But the voice was small. She thought of it as a novelty, an interesting blip in an otherwise mundane day, like seeing a raccoon out on a walk.

Lucy reached out and took the vial. It felt warm in her hand. Holding it made her feel stronger, more confident. She pulled the small cork and let it drop to the ground. The vial came to her lips and she briefly caught the scent of cum. Her mouth watered. She leaned her head back and the crimson fluid rolled over her tongue, sweet and carnal.

The woman vanished. The vial disappeared. Lucy was once more alone. But she was changed.

She took off the robe, letting it fall to the ground, exposing herself to the night air. She could feel the scintillating changes rippling around her. Oh, there's so much. So much to do. So much to understand. Thank you! Thank you for this glorious gift! Where do I even begin? The new goddess turned and looked at her small house. She could see David half asleep on the couch. That simply won't do.

Lucy stalked toward the house, the crimson milk coursing through her veins.