Gromet's PlazaTransformation Stories

The Tiger in the Night

by Rubbersuggs

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© Copyright 2009 - Rubbersuggs - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; carnival; animals; witch; majick; transform; caged; cons; X

The Autumn Carnival was coming! Games and rides and acrobats and animals and smoke and mirrors allure between the shadows and the light. Mark and Sara wandered through the attractions, arm in arm, aimless and happy in love.

“Come see! Come see! Come see the animal people!” cried a lady, weather-faced, a smile that promising summer days and eyes black as winter’s night. They looked across to the large tent at the edge of the main carnival where she was standing.

“Come see! You there! Come see! Young lovers there! Come see the animal people!” she called directly at Mark and Sara, a compelling urgency in her voice that drew them towards her. They made their way over, through a thinning crowd that seemed oblivious to them. “This way, this way, please,” she bowed extravagantly, gesturing with arms and hands towards the black crack of doorway flap of the tent.

The light was low, mean bulbs strung sparsely apart high in the eaves of the canvas. In a semi-circle were arranged a number of cages of various sizes and in each of them were the Animals. Here a gorilla, with tremendous belly and knuckled arms on the floor, there  two wolves, clear eyes gazing with an unnerving piercing stare at their visitors, here a huge snake, tongue flickering at the glass walls, and other animals too. Disturbingly animal but an odd awkward movement, an odd body shape, a strange sound that said they were not. Not entirely.

Then, finally, an empty cage.

“Can’t you  . . . smell it? Feel it?” Mark asked Sara.

“What? How awful it is? It’s just people in crap costumes.” she was laughing slightly, silently.

“No. I mean .  .  . “ he trailed off, looked back. Was she seeing what he was seeing? It looked like skin, flesh, tooth, claw and inhuman movement. He suddenly felt aroused, scared. “Let’s go”

Suddenly from in front of them the carnival woman grew from a darkened corner shadow, startling them both. “Did you enjoy? Did you?”

They both hurried out, embarrassed at the fright the woman had given them.

“Come back, come back soon – before the night dies into the day!” she cackled.

Back at their apartment an uneasy silence descended, like the heavy air before the storm, the silence of somebody in the night trying not to make a noise.

Later. Sleeping. Waves of pleasure violently brought Mark awake, Sara was on him, writhing in love, body arched backwards, then leaning forward, sharp nails drawing blood on his shoulders, a musky scent choking the room, hot and humid breath close to his face, a coarse tongue penetrating his mouth.

Suddenly he saw. Not Sara. The carnival crone. Teeth sharp. Eyes black. Hair wild. Trying to push her away. Trying to stave off the moment of orgasm. Shouting out. Fighting against animal strength. Incisors biting into flesh.

He shouted out.

He awoke, breathless, polished in sweat, feeling the damp of his semen against his body. Sara was next to him, sleeping deeply and barely stirring.

He paced about the apartment, unable to sleep, acutely aware of the night hours ticking away.

He had to know.

The carnival was all closed up as he pulled up in his car. He shook his head against his own madness, turned to get back into his car, saw the orange thread of dawn on the sky line behind.

He had to know.

He walked, a quickening pace, searching for the right tent but it was dark, everything looked so different. He was almost running, panicking when a cracked voice quietly called, “Welcome! Welcome! This way, this way!”

He saw her, then, Standing more upright, more possessed of herself, no longer the act. “You came,” she said and smiled, cruelly. She lifted the flap of the tent, “This way.”

Inside it was hot, too hot, and humid. “I . . . I. . ., erm, well, look I  . . .” Mark stammered. How could he explain? He decided to go. He tried to move but he could not. Something held him there, a spell that balanced him on the blade of running and never knowing, of staying and never being able to forget.  

The woman looked at him with contempt. She threw something on the floor in front of him, a shimmering garment of gold and black, flecked with white.

“You have only moments,“ she said and he turned to see the morning sun stealing away the possibilities of the night and he knew where the choices lay.

Fumbling, shaking, barely in control of himself he undressed, inhibition falling away with his t-shirt, his pants, gone completely as he stood naked. He picked up the suit, it felt heavier than it should, slick to the touch, clinging to his fingers, almost drawing itself over his hands with a life of his own.

Then, somehow, he was in the suit and it had sealed tight about him, fingers now padded paws, a tail that swished and ears that pricked. Sickeningly dizzy, he dropped on to all fours, a thrill running through him that made him tremble and an uncontrolled roar issued from his jaws, whiskers quivering. He arched his back and stretched and moved his body against the suit as it continued to tighten about him until suit and skin moved together.

Another exultant roar.

Crack! He started back from the whip that flayed the dust just in front of his nose.

“Quiet!” Crack! again.

The tiger shook its head, it appeared almost confused, if a tiger could ever be confused.

More noises from the other animals. For a moment it thought it understood that the other animal had said and it felt frightened but then the noises drifted into meaninglessness.

It felt something thick fasten about its neck, something tight and uncompromising around its jaws. Noises came into its head, noises that might once have meant something. Collar. Muzzle. But they went again. It was being pulled by its neck. It tried to roar but its jaws were held shut. It pulled back. Crack! Crack! again.

The cage door slammed shut, the lock was sealed.

The Carnival Witch leaned down and inspected her new exhibit. Yes. Very fine. Raw, but very fine. She looked the tiger in the eyes and suddenly Mark was looking back and the magic was the reality and then only the reality remained. She turned and strode away to the tent flap, throwing it open and Mark saw a ghost disappear into the daylight and the tiger saw the bars of its cage.

04.06.09

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