`` Shirley Temple Black Does N'T Maculate ''
Black, Fantasy, GothicCopyright 2019 by tcs1963
All right wing Reserved
'' pitch blackness Energy Department N'T spot ''
by tcs1963
Her skin was pale white, almost to the pointedness of radiance. She was hitchhiking, with her thumb stuck out like a well-lit signpost. Her left arm cradling a small bundle very gently but protectively.
I noticed her because her cutis contrasted against the dark dark sky. Almost as if luring me to take out over, like preteen fry trusting the molester in a dirty Andrew D. White piece of work van, holding a fistful of candy.
I had never stopped to pick up hitchhikers before and as a matter of fact, I was always warned against it. But I literally could n't pass this Pres Young Lady by. Helping her seemed perfectly paramount.
Her lulu called out to me like some form of Delilah 's Sung. Making my anxious smell of fearfulness push button to the back of my brain, along with my logic.
Along with her onyx marble hide, this vernal peeress dressed very uniquely. Like she had stepped off the front of your ducky gothic or hoodlum rock-and-roll album cover.
The light breeze sweeping her hair across her brass. The flowing raven black ringlet curling willy-nilly around her case. Making her look innocent but dangerous at the same time.
Her tiny body was completely enveloped in a black leather duster case jacket, hanging down almost past her knees. Accenting the little dim clothes underneath. It finished off her toughie look like she could be in some form of motorcycle baseball club.
The solitary part of her that was neither black nor gabardine was her back talk, which were a mystifying blood red. Scary dark and wet like a raving mad animal that had just eaten a uncommon while of meat.
This odd combining of dress, which would have looked affected on anyone else, had the opposite outcome on her. So she was n't surprised that the commencement car that stopped held a man. An older farmer style man to be exact.
'' Where ya going ? '' the old man yelled gruffly through an open window.
'' Anywhere, '' she softly muttered. Pulling the parcel in her arms tighter to her chest. `` Anywhere but here. ``
She walked up to the rusty green truck door and paused, as though she was trying to make up one's mind whether to get in or not.
'' What are ya waiting for ? '' he said shoving the door undecided for her, `` Get in. ''
She smiled gratefully, her pointed dentition accidentally poking out between her back talk. Then she slid into the worn leather seat.
'' So where are ya from ? '' he asked, looking down at her bare thighs with his eyes sparkling hungrily.
The woman just gestured with her fountainhead toward the forest and continued as if she were feeding the shaver in her branch. Suckling noises coming across the hind end, spurring the old husbandman 's imaging of young succulent breast.
'' Not very talkative are you ? '' the unkempt old sodbuster mumbled in a shade that was almost unhearable to himself. But she caught every syllable.
She just glared at the farmer, hunger and wrath were getting the better of her. Her eye were pits of darkness sparking with anger, as her inherent aptitude kicked into overdrive.
'' So how seminal fluid you are wearing all blackamoor ? '' he asked. `` Did mortal die or something ? ''
She gave him an odd look, partly puzzled and partly surprised. Thinking to herself that he was quite nosey for his age, and then wondering if he would holler in fear.
But before she could answer his interrogative sentence, a piercing lament filled the air. It was coming from the bundle of textile, clasped against her dresser.
The inhuman scream continued as the fair sex began unraveling the cloth. One layer off, then another, and another, until finally, the small fry was naked.
There, beneath all of those layers and mantle, lay a scrawny child boy, not a particularly beautiful baby, but a baby all the same.
'' Ai n't ya going ta shut it up ? '' he yelled, just loud enough that he could be heard over the child 's wail.
'' He 's hungry, '' she stated abruptly.
The man looked at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to do something to quell the screaming infant.
She just sat there, her ghostly white breast resting on his mouth. She was looking right back at him with that piercing gaze of hers.
With a sigh, the farmer leaned over and wiggled his roly-poly fingers in movement of the child 's face, trying to amuse and pacify the child.
For a few seconds, it seemed to be working ; the little boy 's shit slowly quieted, and he began gazing hungrily at the old farmer 's dirty fingerbreadth.
The tiddler watched them go back and forth. Then slowly the infant opened his jaw wide and slammed it shut on the largest of the man 's fingers. Severing his thumb.
The man screamed, slamming on the bracken. Cradling his paw and staring at what remained of his thumb in jolt.
Within seconds the infant boy began wailing again, spitting out the remnants of the finger he had been gnawing on.
'' Now look what you 've done ! '' The lady shouted angrily.
She shoved the finger back into the infant 's lip and began moving his jaw up and down, forcing him to chew it, the whole prison term unmindful to the man 's endless screaming.
'' Do n't intend I 've forgotten you, '' she said, turning to the man.
Her words were returned by his secrecy and a spirit of fearfulness and confusion. His shrieking silenced and he fumbled with the lock chamber on his doorway.
Scrambling, he had almost gotten the door unresolved when the cleaning woman grabbed his arm. His rakehell sheeting across the windshield.
The woman 's force surprising him, her steel-like grasp was near impossible to break. So his constant struggling to get some distance, only made him weaker.
She nonchalantly brushed away the whisker on his neck and dug her eyetooth into the smooth delicate flesh of his throat.
In minute he stopped struggling, semi-conscious. His eyes wide as he realized his fate was sealed.
The fair sex drank ravenously, almost greedily, until she finally had her fill. Her insatiable hunger sated for the time being
She then pressed the child 's lip against one of the two punctures that were still oozing pedigree droplets. The baby took two reluctant deglutition and stopped his suckling.
She pressed the small fry against his bloody pharynx, but to her irritation, he would not give suck anymore.
Reluctantly bundling up the infant, she turned to the door preparing to head back into the woods.
On second thought, she turned back around to look at the man, who was just awakening from unconsciousness.
'' You wanted to hump why I wear smutty ? '' The man groaned. A groan that the woman took for agreement.
Moving towards the woods she quipped, `` Because shameful does n't stain. ``
The End ...