"Glam to Goth," part 7

Meghan and Alyse exited the bedroom and turned down the hall.  It was Meghan’s first real occasion to take in the greater facility she was in.  Austere white walls and floors were punctuated by brutalist fixtures and sculptures on pedestals, lending the surroundings an impersonal, almost machine-like air.  The decor intrigued Meghan, who made a mental note to replace the Monet “Sunflowers” print hanging in her room with something by H.R. Giger.  “The Birth Machine,” perhaps?

As Meghan and her friend walked in tandem down the lengthy hallway, Meghan snuck glances at her friend.  So much had changed about her, and not merely the fact that she had completely changed her look.  There was a confidence to her gait that was lacking before.  And that self-assuredness, Meghan realized, would make Alyse fashionable regardless of what she was actually wearing.

At the end of the hall was a large foyer, with stairs leading up and a grand entranceway.  The room was decorated in a considerably-warmer way, with a dark red rug and several large leather chairs.  Sitting in one was Liz, Meghan’s old college acquaintance -- the woman who had abducted Liz and her friends in the first place.  She was wearing a black tube top, exposing her white, tattooed abdomen.  On each foot were well-heeled boots.  A lavendar-haired, pale, nude woman kneeled before her, her face buried in Liz’s crotch.  An erotic chill went up Meghan’s spine as she admired the tattoos that ran all the up the pussy eater’s left side, from foot through neck.  Chinese characters melted into lewd depictions of lesbian sex melted into hieroglyphics on the woman’s body.  Meghan wondered what it would feel like to be inked so flagrantly, to commit oneself so publicly to a certain lifestyle.

And Liz, Meghan saw in a whole new light.  There was something almost regal about her.  She was in complete control.  In fact, her face barely registered the fact that her pussy was being serviced.  Meghan couldn’t deny that she was attracted to Liz.

A pregnant moment after Alyse and Meghan entered, Liz addressed them, “You like what you see, Meghan?”  

“Yes.”

“You’d like to switch places with her, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good, you’re coming around.  I knew we’d get that straightness out of you.  I really just want what’s best for you guys and FashionBitches.  Oooo...that’s good.”  The acknowledgement made the pussy eater’s wan toes curl with pleasure.  It didn’t surprise Meghan to see rings on each.  “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want to eat your pussy.”

“I love when straight girls talk dirty…”

“I’m not straight!”

“That’s the right answer, bitch.  Tell me what you are.”

“I’m a fucking dyke!  Oh my god Liz, I want to eat your pussy so bad.  Please let me show you!”

“Wow, that’s hot…  OK, here’s the deal.  I will forgive you for being so rude to me earlier, and I’ll gladly let you get your fill of my cunt.  I forgave Stacey, and she was kind of bitchy too.  But the truth is, you look like shit and I’m not attracted to you.”

Meghan felt a lump in her throat.  This woman was … rejecting her?  She’d gone to all this trouble, only to turn her away?  Meghan wasn’t a goth, but she was still attractive.  She was wearing the outfit featured in the FashionBitches.com Bonnaroo styles guide!

“Hold up, bitch.  Don’t cry.”  Liz removed the head from her lap and stood next to Meghan.  With the boots, Liz towered over her.  “That just means you have some extra work to do.  Like your friends Alyse and Stacey here.”

Meghan looked behind Liz to the lavender-haired woman.  Now that Meghan could see the face, she recognized her friend.  Barely.  Her dyed hair was shaved on both sides.  Gone was Stacey’s trademark tan.  Her skin was now an almost bloodless white.  Gaudy, dark makeup caked her face, and her lips were painted a shiny black.  The tattoos Meghan had noticed ran up past her neck, onto the side of her head.  Three rings pierced each eyebrow.  In addition to the septum Meghan had seen earlier, Stacey had a nostril piercing, with a chain connecting that ring to a cuff in her right ear.  The corners of both sides of her lower lip were pierced in a fashion Meghan had heard called, “snakebites.”

The face was only the beginning of the changes.  Stacey’s bare breasts, formerly solid B cups, were now easily Ds.  The nipples protruded a good inch.  From each dangled a gigantic ring.

Her hands ended in nails so long and so black they were curved, like claws.  Her toenails, similarly were long and black. Each foot now bore tattoos referencing her newfound foot fetish.  On the top of the left was a gigantic Rolling Stones logo.  On the top of the right was print saying, “PUT TONGUE HERE” with an arrow pointing towards the toes.

“Liz is totally right, Meg - you look like shit.”  Stacey spoke with a slight lisp.  “I’m sorry we haven’t gotten to fuck yet, but we’ll get you fixed up soon.”  With that, Stacey licked her lips lasciviously.  That’s when Meghan noticed that her friend’s tongue had been split in two, like a snake.  Or a devil.  “I can’t wait to have you eating my cunt.”

Alyse, who had stood silently beside Meghan until this point, stepped forward.  “I can vouch for her cunt eating skills.  But yes, we’re going to head out now and make her … presentable.”

“Sounds good, dykes,” Liz said.  With that, she returned to her chair and gestured for Stacey to reclaim her position servicing her.