Everyone is going through some changes
WPC Griffiths knew she was in trouble, although that knowledge did very little to help her. The young woman’s last memory was of a syrupy voice whispering, as she drifted asleep, drugged by some weird chemical which her attacker had smeared over his hand.
Julie had awoken to find herself in what appeared to be some sort of basement. The room was littered with a variety of equipment and, to all appearances, seemed to be a bizarre blending of kitchen and chemistry laboratory. Test tubes, burners and a retort sat on top of a nearby desk, while large pots bubbled and hissed in the corner. A sweet aroma filled the air, familiar and yet exotic.
Of course, focussing on her surroundings allowed the young woman to briefly forget her own predicament. But, inevitably her thoughts returned to how she could escape. This would be extremely difficult, as a number of changes had occurred while she slept.
Julie had been stripped of her clothing and, to make matters worse, she was restrained. The policewoman sat on a large, padded chair, her wrists trapped in padded cuffs attached to each armrest. Her ankles were similarly locked to the chair legs. Two padded bands encircled her waist and neck, holding her tightly against the chair. As a final indignity, something warm and firm had been inserted into her sex and, no matter how much she squirmed, she was unable to shift this intimate intruder.
“Hello, constable”, remarked the same slurred voice. “I trust that you are comfortable.”
Julie was startled, not having heard anyone approach. She craned her neck, but maddeningly, whoever spoke remained just out of sight. Without warning, a strong hand grasped her by the chin. The pretty captive yelled out in surprise and indignation.
“Mmmmpppphhhhhh!” She managed.
The villain laughed heartily, and, still holding her chin, walked slowly around the chair, until he was in full view.
“Yes, I know,” he soothed, “and while I’m sure that you and I could have a most stimulating conversation, I think that I will forgo the usual 'You wont get away with this' if it’s all the same to you.”
By now Julie had realised that she couldn't open her mouth. Whatever the villain had done to her, it had silenced her far more effectively than any gag. Then, she got her first look at her captor, and although it was muffled almost into nothing, she still was able to scream in horror.
“As you can see Julie, events have not been kind to me. But, my ‘condition’ has allowed me to see with a great deal more clarity than before the ‘accident’. May I call you Julie? Forgive me if I am being presumptuous.”
“Mmmmmpppphhhhhhh!” She yelled, staring wide-eyed at the monster before her.
Although he had literally cloaked himself, wearing an oversized trenchcoat and cowl, it was obvious that something was not at all right about the villain. Where it was visible, his strangely “liquid” looking skin shivered and writhed. The rest of him, even hidden from view, also appeared somehow wrong. The way he moved was too fluid and each step left a wide, sticky footprint on the otherwise immaculate floor.
“But I did promise that I would show what had happened to all those woman you were looking for, didn’t I, Julie?”
The villain carefully reached up and pulled on a heavy lever. There were a series of clanking sounds and then a section of wall began to slowly move to one side. Seconds later, she had an unobstructed view into a second chamber. The policewoman made another futile attempt to cry out, an action which seemed to please her captor immensely.
“Yes,” he gurgled, “it is rather impressive isn’t it? But don’t worry my sweet, you will soon be joining them.”
Julie could only stare at the row of tall glass cylinders. Each was filled with what seemed to be a thick, syrupy amber liquid. Suspended in this strange fluid, each cylinder also held a naked young woman. Their eyes were closed, as if in sleep, and each girl’s mouth and nose were covered with a rubber mask.
As if this wasn’t enough, the captives were tightly bound, rubber straps binding them thoroughly. But, for the plucky young constable, the true horror was that she recognised each victim. In fact, she had memorised their descriptions over the course of her investigations. The villain was right, he was showing her exactly what had become of his captives. The only problem was, she was about to get even more first-hand knowledge of their fate.
* * *
“Now, onto my second favourite part,” the villain continued, “Where I explain to my damsel in distress exactly what is about to happen to her. Of course, part of what makes this so delicious, Julie, is that there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me!”
The Confectioner noticed the slight shudder that his words evoked and smiled to himself before continuing.
“Now, in a few moments I will activate this special chair to which you have been so thoroughly bound. I’m sure you will have notice by now, that the chair has some fairly unusual ‘attachments’, one of which is currently nestled in your ‘most private of places’.”
* * *
She tried to stop herself, but couldn’t suppress an indignant “Mmmmphhh”. Julie felt her cheeks darken even more at the humiliation.
“Quite,” laughed the villain. “So, when I activate the chair, it will begin to pump my new jelly-filling into you. Now, this isn’t as bad as it sounds, in fact I expect you’ll find the experience incredibly enjoyable.... I know that the other girls did.”
The villain moved over to a console and began to work the controls. A soft hum filled the room, and Julie could feel the chair begin to vibrate ever so slightly.
“Anyway, Julie, this jelly will seep through your skin, entering your bloodstream, finding its way to your brain. Eventually you’ll be full to the brim and that’s when you get a lovely comfortable cylinder to float in, just like all the girls you’ve been looking for. Won't that be nice?” He gloated.
The policewoman jerked suddenly as something warm began to ooze from beneath her. The sensation was strange but not entirely unpleasant. In fact, as it continued, she had to admit that it was strangely arousing. Again she flushed red, as she realised what she was thinking. This wasn’t right, she was in terrible danger, how could this be turning her on?
“The jelly is another of my special formulations, I actually invented it after some disastrous run-ins with a superheroine, but I digress. So, the jelly will permeate your body and mind. It will take over some of the boring drudgery that steals so much of your time. You know, things like thinking, analysing and all the other dull tedium? Meanwhile, it will leave you free to do all the nice things like relaxing, and doing what you’re told.”
She tried even harder to break loose then, thrashing against the bonds. But she was too tightly secured, and had too little strength. Eventually, her struggles slowed and finally ceased. Throughout it all, the villain had merely watched, an amused expression on his deformed face. Her strength seemed to be ebbing away and her head spun, as the jelly reached a blood vessel and began to circulate.
“Now you’ve gotten that out of your system, just sit back and enjoy the rest of the process. There really is nothing you can do to stop it now and, after a long soak in my special honey, while you breathe some more of my sugar syrup, you’ll wake up, ready to greet your new owner.”
Julie’s eyelids began to droop; the room seemed to swim in and out of focus. She tried to think of a way to get free, but her thoughts seemed to lose cohesion. Over time it stopped being an effort to think of an escape plan, and instead became an effort to think of anything at all. The world seemed to be receding, and the young woman felt herself becoming increasingly distant.
Slowly the jelly worked its evil upon her, leaving her nothing but a dazed observer in her own body. But the truly terrible thing was that she felt so good, so unbelievably aroused and filled with pleasure. Part of her didn’t want to leave, and the other part feared that she no longer had any choice in the matter.
* * *
The Confectioner watched the process; his past experience had taught him that it was never wise to leave a captive unattended, no matter how secure you believed them to be. But today there would be no surprises. Just as all the other subjects before her, Julie’s pitiful attempts at resistance were quickly crushed by the invasive jelly. Soon her irises began to take on a brilliant green sheen, the only outward indication that her body was now saturated.
Julie was lost, a passive observer, trapped in one tiny corner of her mind. Her thoughts were diluted in a maelstrom of pleasure, so much so that she was no longer even trying to recapture them. The sinister jelly formed a thick barrier around her, keeping her isolated, while it began to gradually siphon off her knowledge and memories.
* * *
Once he was sure that she was lost, the villain carefully unshackled his prisoner, and led her unresisting body to her own cylinder. He fastened her mask in place, smoothing his hands over the warm rubber and ensuring that the seal was perfect. Next he eased tiny plugs into her ears. Then, with an almost casual use of his incredible strength, he lifted the policewoman up, over his head, before placing her in the plastic container.
The Confectioner checked her one final time, and then sealed the cylinder shut. From there on the procedure was automatic. The cylinder filled slowly with glistening honey, while the mask fed her a mixture of air and sugar steam.
* * *
The honey tingled deliciously against her skin, numbing and arousing in equal measure. The sweet vapour made her head swim, dampening away the last vestiges of consciousness. Julie was aware of these sensations at first, but they were somehow distant. In effect, just further pleasures, fighting to be felt over the cacophony of sensations, and so far away. It was almost as though they were happening to someone else entirely.
Julie floated serenely in the viscous liquid, a butterfly trapped in amber. The Confectioner’s jelly wrapped what remained of Julie’s thoughts in a tight cocoon, sealing them away. His other chemicals continued their evil work, pleasuring and pacifying the young woman’s body. All the while, a relentless chant sounded in her ears. The jelly absorbed it and learnt it, programming its host with new ideas and thoughts.
* * *
The villain watched as his latest victim joined her ‘sisters’ in his gallery. Once she had finished her ‘training’ he was certain that his buyer would be most pleased. This policewoman had managed to upset far too many people in her short career. One particularly disgruntled mobster had wanted a ‘plaything’ for his eldest daughter, and when you made someone with that much money that angry, you had to be prepared for the consequences.
WPC Griffiths was going spend the rest of her life serving the very people she had fought to put behind bars, and thanks to The Confectioner’s jelly, at least a part of her would remain aware of what was happening, even while she was forced to obediently serve.
To be continued…
The Return of the Confectioner
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Shower daydreams and nightmares
The sleek, high tech motorcycle glided silently into the alley. Its silver-clad rider paused for a moment, scanning the unsavoury street through equally advanced optics, before dismounting in one fluid movement.
Ampere patted Liathe gently, signalling the machine to remain in sentry mode and then she stalked carefully towards the crime scene. Garish white and blue tape hung dejectedly here and there, the only indication that anything untoward had occurred. She knew the Scene of Crime Officers would already have swept the area, but the young heroine had little faith in their ability to catch this particular criminal.
All the clues she had gathered led to one inescapable truth. The Confectioner, her old nemesis, had returned. She shivered at the memory of their last encounter, remembering just how close she had come to falling. But, with Geist still trying to understand her new powers, there was no one else who could take him down, once and for all.
A series of beautiful woman had been kidnapped and the rumour was they were taken to order and sold into slavery. The police hadn’t made the link between these disappearances and the sweet-themed villain. But, according to the police computer, last night the kidnapper had moved up to abducting a police officer.
Thorough though they had been, (not least because they were now investigating the loss of one of their own), the police didn’t have access to her resources. Ampere went over the alley with a fine-toothed comb, exploring it down to the minutest detail and, after nearly half an hour, the heroine found a small scrap of fabric.
At first it seemed unimportant, but with the vast resources of information available to her through the futuristic goggles, Ampere quickly identified it as coming from a police issue barathea blazer. The superheroine stooped, noticing the thin smear of sticky residue that clung to the dark material. She’d need to get it back to base, in order to be sure, but Ampere was already sure she had recognised one of the Confectioner’s creations.
It didn’t bring her any closer to tracking the nefarious fiend, but at least it proved she was on the right track.
She placed the evidence in a small ziplock bag and then ran back to her motorcycle without sparing the alley another glance. The heroine sped off into the night, desperately hoping she could find the Confectioner before he sold his prisoners to the highest bidder.
* * *
It was already getting light when Ampere rode back into base. She quickly settled Liathe into her recharging booth, soothing the construct’s digital anxiety. Once she deposited the evidence in the fridge, the heroine headed straight for the shower. Skin-tight silver lycra might have been stylish, but after a few hours it did tend to get a little sweaty.
As she climbed the steep stairs to her bedroom, the shapely heroine didn’t notice that the refrigerator door had somehow sprung open. All Ampere wanted to do was throw herself under the hot water, and then fall into her welcoming bed.
Behind her, droplets of amber dribbled wetly across the floor, defying gravity as they oozed impossibly. The thick syrup crawled inexorably towards the sink, flowing upwards in slender ribbons. Finally, it reached the lip of the basin, where it poured down into the waiting drain, apparently eager to return to its source.
Even the tiniest, discarded fragments retained a partial connection to the controlling consciousness. The syrup oozed through the pipework, following its programming. The organic messenger had information to pass on and, just as soon as the slippery blob got close enough, the Confectioner was going to know exactly where to find his enemy.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ampere had already peeled herself out of the slick, silver catsuit. She discarded the soiled outfit, and climbed eagerly into the spacious shower cubicle. A torrent of hot water engulfed her, scouring away the day’s accumulated grit and grime. She filled her hands with thick gel, smearing the cool liquid over herself and relishing the invigorating mixture of sensations.
Her eyes drifted closed, as her fingers continued to massage the rich lather into her skin. Unbidden, the memories of her recent travails begin to slip through her mind. Her hands slid lower, unconsciously slowing and lingering more lewdly. Despite herself, Ampere could feel arousal prickling. Even though she had been in peril, it was impossible to deny the excitement she had felt at being bound and pleasured.
She knew that the same thoughts were percolating through Geist’s mind, although neither of them had dared talk about it since their escape from the Anaesthetist and his sleepy torments. Thinking about her friend merely added another layer of eroticism to her growing fantasy. Soapy fingers slid over her neatly shaven mound, dipping into the already sticky heat of her aching sex.
Ampere moaned softly, enjoying the water’s vigorous massage as it pounded her neck and shoulders. Static played hungrily over her swollen lips, forcing her to give a delighted giggle. Then, one probing nail found the sweet tension of her clit and it was all she could do to hold herself in check.
Through force of will alone, the heroine slowed her gentle strokes. Her breathing was already hoarse and punctuated with low whimpers of building need. She could picture Jennifer’s sweet curves, her limbs cruelly pinioned and her mouth gagged. Unable to speak, Geist still made it abundantly clear that all she wanted, right then, was for Ampere to give her the release she so desperately craved.
The heroine licked her lips, recognising that with her own hands bound so very tightly, she would be forced to use every other part of her body to give her friend what she so richly deserved. Her lips, tongue, and teeth. Her warm breasts, tight nipples, even her flowing hair. Whatever it took, just so long as they both got what they wanted.
* * *
When the water began to slow, Ampere didn’t notice. The flow stuttered, becoming increasingly more erratic and then it died completely. For a long moment, the heroine stood there, lost in her daydream, with one hand deep between her powerful thighs and the other cupping and massaging one tender breast.
Then, the first, long drooling stream poured from the showerhead, spattering over the young woman’s shoulders and dribbling slowly down her spine.
Ampere yelped, instantly recognising the cloying scent of the Confectioner’s sugar. Already half lost, the wisps of steam made her head spin, while the dripping syrup took her arousal and simply doubled then redoubled it.
She lunged for the door, her soapy hands clutching at the handle. More and more of the sugary slime ran over her flesh, and then, without warning, a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
“Hello again, Sparkie,” the Confectioner gurgled happily. “Oh how I’ve missed you, and your all too succulent body.”
A strong sticky hand clamped over her face, easily dragging her back from the door and the possibility of escape.
“Time for your nap now,” the villain whispered. “But don’t worry, I’ll be here to take good care of you while you sleep.”
The spunky heroine groaned defiantly into the Confectioner’s hand, but in truth she could already feel the orgasm growing ever closer. And Ampere knew that when she succumbed, the villain’s poison would dash away her senses.
To be continued…
The sleek, high tech motorcycle glided silently into the alley. Its silver-clad rider paused for a moment, scanning the unsavoury street through equally advanced optics, before dismounting in one fluid movement.
Ampere patted Liathe gently, signalling the machine to remain in sentry mode and then she stalked carefully towards the crime scene. Garish white and blue tape hung dejectedly here and there, the only indication that anything untoward had occurred. She knew the Scene of Crime Officers would already have swept the area, but the young heroine had little faith in their ability to catch this particular criminal.
All the clues she had gathered led to one inescapable truth. The Confectioner, her old nemesis, had returned. She shivered at the memory of their last encounter, remembering just how close she had come to falling. But, with Geist still trying to understand her new powers, there was no one else who could take him down, once and for all.
A series of beautiful woman had been kidnapped and the rumour was they were taken to order and sold into slavery. The police hadn’t made the link between these disappearances and the sweet-themed villain. But, according to the police computer, last night the kidnapper had moved up to abducting a police officer.
Thorough though they had been, (not least because they were now investigating the loss of one of their own), the police didn’t have access to her resources. Ampere went over the alley with a fine-toothed comb, exploring it down to the minutest detail and, after nearly half an hour, the heroine found a small scrap of fabric.
At first it seemed unimportant, but with the vast resources of information available to her through the futuristic goggles, Ampere quickly identified it as coming from a police issue barathea blazer. The superheroine stooped, noticing the thin smear of sticky residue that clung to the dark material. She’d need to get it back to base, in order to be sure, but Ampere was already sure she had recognised one of the Confectioner’s creations.
It didn’t bring her any closer to tracking the nefarious fiend, but at least it proved she was on the right track.
She placed the evidence in a small ziplock bag and then ran back to her motorcycle without sparing the alley another glance. The heroine sped off into the night, desperately hoping she could find the Confectioner before he sold his prisoners to the highest bidder.
* * *
It was already getting light when Ampere rode back into base. She quickly settled Liathe into her recharging booth, soothing the construct’s digital anxiety. Once she deposited the evidence in the fridge, the heroine headed straight for the shower. Skin-tight silver lycra might have been stylish, but after a few hours it did tend to get a little sweaty.
As she climbed the steep stairs to her bedroom, the shapely heroine didn’t notice that the refrigerator door had somehow sprung open. All Ampere wanted to do was throw herself under the hot water, and then fall into her welcoming bed.
Behind her, droplets of amber dribbled wetly across the floor, defying gravity as they oozed impossibly. The thick syrup crawled inexorably towards the sink, flowing upwards in slender ribbons. Finally, it reached the lip of the basin, where it poured down into the waiting drain, apparently eager to return to its source.
Even the tiniest, discarded fragments retained a partial connection to the controlling consciousness. The syrup oozed through the pipework, following its programming. The organic messenger had information to pass on and, just as soon as the slippery blob got close enough, the Confectioner was going to know exactly where to find his enemy.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ampere had already peeled herself out of the slick, silver catsuit. She discarded the soiled outfit, and climbed eagerly into the spacious shower cubicle. A torrent of hot water engulfed her, scouring away the day’s accumulated grit and grime. She filled her hands with thick gel, smearing the cool liquid over herself and relishing the invigorating mixture of sensations.
Her eyes drifted closed, as her fingers continued to massage the rich lather into her skin. Unbidden, the memories of her recent travails begin to slip through her mind. Her hands slid lower, unconsciously slowing and lingering more lewdly. Despite herself, Ampere could feel arousal prickling. Even though she had been in peril, it was impossible to deny the excitement she had felt at being bound and pleasured.
She knew that the same thoughts were percolating through Geist’s mind, although neither of them had dared talk about it since their escape from the Anaesthetist and his sleepy torments. Thinking about her friend merely added another layer of eroticism to her growing fantasy. Soapy fingers slid over her neatly shaven mound, dipping into the already sticky heat of her aching sex.
Ampere moaned softly, enjoying the water’s vigorous massage as it pounded her neck and shoulders. Static played hungrily over her swollen lips, forcing her to give a delighted giggle. Then, one probing nail found the sweet tension of her clit and it was all she could do to hold herself in check.
Through force of will alone, the heroine slowed her gentle strokes. Her breathing was already hoarse and punctuated with low whimpers of building need. She could picture Jennifer’s sweet curves, her limbs cruelly pinioned and her mouth gagged. Unable to speak, Geist still made it abundantly clear that all she wanted, right then, was for Ampere to give her the release she so desperately craved.
The heroine licked her lips, recognising that with her own hands bound so very tightly, she would be forced to use every other part of her body to give her friend what she so richly deserved. Her lips, tongue, and teeth. Her warm breasts, tight nipples, even her flowing hair. Whatever it took, just so long as they both got what they wanted.
* * *
When the water began to slow, Ampere didn’t notice. The flow stuttered, becoming increasingly more erratic and then it died completely. For a long moment, the heroine stood there, lost in her daydream, with one hand deep between her powerful thighs and the other cupping and massaging one tender breast.
Then, the first, long drooling stream poured from the showerhead, spattering over the young woman’s shoulders and dribbling slowly down her spine.
Ampere yelped, instantly recognising the cloying scent of the Confectioner’s sugar. Already half lost, the wisps of steam made her head spin, while the dripping syrup took her arousal and simply doubled then redoubled it.
She lunged for the door, her soapy hands clutching at the handle. More and more of the sugary slime ran over her flesh, and then, without warning, a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
“Hello again, Sparkie,” the Confectioner gurgled happily. “Oh how I’ve missed you, and your all too succulent body.”
A strong sticky hand clamped over her face, easily dragging her back from the door and the possibility of escape.
“Time for your nap now,” the villain whispered. “But don’t worry, I’ll be here to take good care of you while you sleep.”
The spunky heroine groaned defiantly into the Confectioner’s hand, but in truth she could already feel the orgasm growing ever closer. And Ampere knew that when she succumbed, the villain’s poison would dash away her senses.
To be continued…
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
If At First You Don’t Succeed
Ampere fought against the villain’s merciless grip, whimpering weakly into his muffling hand. Her thoughts were in turmoil, fear and arousal warring for supremacy amidst the chemical fog. She tried to struggle, beating against the amorphous attacker with flailing limbs. But the blows were random and ineffective.
Then, the Confectioner slid one slimy hand down into the heroine’s shivering cleft. Ampere began to thrash, desperate to escape that cruel attention. Disgustingly sticky fingers swirled hungrily between her folds, pinning her tormented clit in place and lashing the taut nub with a thick glaze.
The villain’s breath was sickly sweet as he whispered into the heroine’s fading mind.
“Now you’re mine,” the Confectioner told her. “And soon you’ll beg for my touch.”
Oozing sugar syrup melted over her sex, pressing into the wet mess of Ampere’s pussy. She moaned in horrible expectation, clenching against the unwelcome intrusion as more and more foulness flowed into her. Shame burned her cheeks but, no matter how hard she might try, there was no denying the strength of her reactions.
“Yes,” the villain hissed. “That’s my girl.”
The scream was torn from her throat, a cry of despair that mingled with the uncontrollable climax. Acting on pure reflex, she tensed and clung to her attacker, humping herself against the glistening syrup.
Waves of delight crashed over Ampere, sinking into her flesh and forcing it to thrash and convulse. The glaze crystallised, sealing her hideously sensitive clit under layers of sweet control. Mercilessly stimulating and restimulating her until there was nothing but the purest pleasure.
Finally she collapsed into her tormentor’s embrace, muscles still trembling with unconscious arousal. But long before, her mind had abandoned any attempt at resistance, simply fading into blankness as raw desire continued to pound her senses.
* * *
She was adrift. Floating somewhere in the darkness between true sleep and wakefulness, her thoughts a haze of confused desire. Heat throbbed against her swollen clit, sugar cane crystals that burrowed into slick flesh and set her nerves aflame. An orgasm claimed her, coming so quickly on the tail of another that it was impossible to separate them.
Sweat coated her nubile form, gleaming droplets amidst the sticky residue of both the Confectioner’s lewd touches and her own helpless arousal. Something ground smoothly between her pouting cuntlips, adding another stimulation to the hideous complex that continued to torture her increasingly frail form. She flexed her muscles against inescapable restraints, straining weakly before she came yet again and the effort was lost in pleasure.
Warm honey dribbled through her thoughts, miring and coating them in treacle-slow heaviness. Ampere groaned, only to find her voice stifled in rich candy sweetness. Viscous juices drooled unnoticed from her gagged lips, staining her skin rainbow bright.
The heroine lurched again, unable to resist the perversity of her ordeal even while what little remained of her mind screamed its insistence that something was very badly wrong indeed.
* * *
His expression triumphant, the Confectioner watched his long-term adversary slowly succumb to the forces ranged against her. This time there would be no escape for the feisty heroine. This time she would be brought to heel. He could feel his arousal building, sending deep tremors through his liquid form. An image of Ampere flashed through his mind, bowed and defeated, kneeling at his feet. Desire plucked at him and his growl echoed wetly in the small prison.
The superheroine had been stretched out on the metal frame, her wrists and ankles trapped in heavy transparent cuffs. A narrow collar encircled the helpless woman’s throat, and a slender pipe dribbled honey through a needle and into her veins. Perfect breasts sloshed with every anguished twitch, their nipples dark nubs of puckered flesh.
Behind her teeth, forcing her mouth wide open, a large ballgag slowly melted, dribbling forth its essence in languid streams. Sugar coated her trembling body, both without and within, maintaining those ceaseless orgasms while a thin liquorice crotch rope completed her bondage.
Soon she would be ready for his jelly filling, but in truth she was already his. Somewhere within the madness, the Confectioner was aware that this was complete overkill. But there was something about this woman. She had escaped his clutches before and each time it only made him more determined to have her.
“That’s it,” he whispered softly to his unconscious prisoner. “Give in to the feelings, as my candies rob you of your memories and open you mind to my every sordid whim.”
It might have been his imagination, but he would have sworn that she tensed for a moment on hearing his words. An instant later another climax crashed through her body and Ampere was again lost in those wonderfully automatic responses.
“You’re all alone,” he explained gently. “Utterly helpless and defeated. No one is coming to save you, Sparkie, And soon, you’ll be so deeply under my control, you won’t even want them to.”
* * *
Her mind was unravelling and yet the process felt so wonderful she simply couldn’t care. Fragments of memory spiralled away into oblivion, sucked from her brain by the force of each new climax. The heroine’s faltering strength seemed to follow those thoughts, draining from her body and leaving only burning passion.
Spears of desires transfixed her throbbing clit, pulsing in time to the words that lingered and then replaced her errant thoughts. The brilliant green liquorice worked its way deeper into her folds, massaging away what little willpower she had left and leaving nothing but vacant compliance. Ampere was losing herself, one piece at a time and yet, despite that knowledge, she never wanted the cruel attention to end.
When the jelly finally came, pouring into her unprotected sex in waves of shuddering excitement, it all became too much. Even one of the Confectioner’s fiendish creations would have been more than enough to beat her. Exposed to all of them at once, she simply had no chance.
The foul chemical wrapped her in its greasy embrace, dissolving her awareness in a cloud of delight from which she would never escape. By the time her eyes took on the same green sheen as the other girl’s there was almost nothing left of the proud heroine. But that wouldn’t matter. Because, after some time in the conditioning tank, she would emerge as a new woman. Literally.
To be continued...
Ampere fought against the villain’s merciless grip, whimpering weakly into his muffling hand. Her thoughts were in turmoil, fear and arousal warring for supremacy amidst the chemical fog. She tried to struggle, beating against the amorphous attacker with flailing limbs. But the blows were random and ineffective.
Then, the Confectioner slid one slimy hand down into the heroine’s shivering cleft. Ampere began to thrash, desperate to escape that cruel attention. Disgustingly sticky fingers swirled hungrily between her folds, pinning her tormented clit in place and lashing the taut nub with a thick glaze.
The villain’s breath was sickly sweet as he whispered into the heroine’s fading mind.
“Now you’re mine,” the Confectioner told her. “And soon you’ll beg for my touch.”
Oozing sugar syrup melted over her sex, pressing into the wet mess of Ampere’s pussy. She moaned in horrible expectation, clenching against the unwelcome intrusion as more and more foulness flowed into her. Shame burned her cheeks but, no matter how hard she might try, there was no denying the strength of her reactions.
“Yes,” the villain hissed. “That’s my girl.”
The scream was torn from her throat, a cry of despair that mingled with the uncontrollable climax. Acting on pure reflex, she tensed and clung to her attacker, humping herself against the glistening syrup.
Waves of delight crashed over Ampere, sinking into her flesh and forcing it to thrash and convulse. The glaze crystallised, sealing her hideously sensitive clit under layers of sweet control. Mercilessly stimulating and restimulating her until there was nothing but the purest pleasure.
Finally she collapsed into her tormentor’s embrace, muscles still trembling with unconscious arousal. But long before, her mind had abandoned any attempt at resistance, simply fading into blankness as raw desire continued to pound her senses.
* * *
She was adrift. Floating somewhere in the darkness between true sleep and wakefulness, her thoughts a haze of confused desire. Heat throbbed against her swollen clit, sugar cane crystals that burrowed into slick flesh and set her nerves aflame. An orgasm claimed her, coming so quickly on the tail of another that it was impossible to separate them.
Sweat coated her nubile form, gleaming droplets amidst the sticky residue of both the Confectioner’s lewd touches and her own helpless arousal. Something ground smoothly between her pouting cuntlips, adding another stimulation to the hideous complex that continued to torture her increasingly frail form. She flexed her muscles against inescapable restraints, straining weakly before she came yet again and the effort was lost in pleasure.
Warm honey dribbled through her thoughts, miring and coating them in treacle-slow heaviness. Ampere groaned, only to find her voice stifled in rich candy sweetness. Viscous juices drooled unnoticed from her gagged lips, staining her skin rainbow bright.
The heroine lurched again, unable to resist the perversity of her ordeal even while what little remained of her mind screamed its insistence that something was very badly wrong indeed.
* * *
His expression triumphant, the Confectioner watched his long-term adversary slowly succumb to the forces ranged against her. This time there would be no escape for the feisty heroine. This time she would be brought to heel. He could feel his arousal building, sending deep tremors through his liquid form. An image of Ampere flashed through his mind, bowed and defeated, kneeling at his feet. Desire plucked at him and his growl echoed wetly in the small prison.
The superheroine had been stretched out on the metal frame, her wrists and ankles trapped in heavy transparent cuffs. A narrow collar encircled the helpless woman’s throat, and a slender pipe dribbled honey through a needle and into her veins. Perfect breasts sloshed with every anguished twitch, their nipples dark nubs of puckered flesh.
Behind her teeth, forcing her mouth wide open, a large ballgag slowly melted, dribbling forth its essence in languid streams. Sugar coated her trembling body, both without and within, maintaining those ceaseless orgasms while a thin liquorice crotch rope completed her bondage.
Soon she would be ready for his jelly filling, but in truth she was already his. Somewhere within the madness, the Confectioner was aware that this was complete overkill. But there was something about this woman. She had escaped his clutches before and each time it only made him more determined to have her.
“That’s it,” he whispered softly to his unconscious prisoner. “Give in to the feelings, as my candies rob you of your memories and open you mind to my every sordid whim.”
It might have been his imagination, but he would have sworn that she tensed for a moment on hearing his words. An instant later another climax crashed through her body and Ampere was again lost in those wonderfully automatic responses.
“You’re all alone,” he explained gently. “Utterly helpless and defeated. No one is coming to save you, Sparkie, And soon, you’ll be so deeply under my control, you won’t even want them to.”
* * *
Her mind was unravelling and yet the process felt so wonderful she simply couldn’t care. Fragments of memory spiralled away into oblivion, sucked from her brain by the force of each new climax. The heroine’s faltering strength seemed to follow those thoughts, draining from her body and leaving only burning passion.
Spears of desires transfixed her throbbing clit, pulsing in time to the words that lingered and then replaced her errant thoughts. The brilliant green liquorice worked its way deeper into her folds, massaging away what little willpower she had left and leaving nothing but vacant compliance. Ampere was losing herself, one piece at a time and yet, despite that knowledge, she never wanted the cruel attention to end.
When the jelly finally came, pouring into her unprotected sex in waves of shuddering excitement, it all became too much. Even one of the Confectioner’s fiendish creations would have been more than enough to beat her. Exposed to all of them at once, she simply had no chance.
The foul chemical wrapped her in its greasy embrace, dissolving her awareness in a cloud of delight from which she would never escape. By the time her eyes took on the same green sheen as the other girl’s there was almost nothing left of the proud heroine. But that wouldn’t matter. Because, after some time in the conditioning tank, she would emerge as a new woman. Literally.
To be continued...
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Sealing the deal
Awareness returned in slow stages, each new revelation another horror. Her world was blanketed in a thick cotton-candy fog and, no matter how far she stretched, it seemed impossible to pierce that cloying barrier.
Ampere was a passenger in her own body, forced to watch, impotently, but able to experience everything with painfully sharp clarity. Alien thoughts impinged on her, forcing themselves into her mind and growing increasingly more difficult to deny. The pleasure of her absolute obedience massaged her mind and she could almost sense herself growing more servile.
She howled, recognising her defeat and yet unable to believe it could possibly end like this. The tiny, locked-away piece of her consciousness could do nothing as her body was finally released from the syrup-filled prison. Thin strands of devotion coiled around her perceptions, adding a strange dichotomy to her emotions and just for an instant she couldn't remember why she was still fighting.
* * *
The girl collapsed, tumbling from the cylinder amidst a torrent of sticky sap. The light, rubber mask clung to her face and a mess of matted blonde hair was plastered to her scalp. She gasped for air, filling her straining lungs with the last wisps of sugar steam. Only then did she become aware of her surroundings, and her eyes almost immediately found those of her master.
Despite the fatigue, her body immediately snapped to kneeling attention. Her spine ramrod straight, hands clasped together in the small of her back and her legs parted in submissive invitation. She averted her gaze, staring down at the puddle spreading around her. Her body trembled in anticipation, longing for his voice and the commands she would have no choice but to obey.
The thought of being compelled to act resonated through her mind, thrilling her with its depraved intensity. She was just so weak and helpless. So defeated, so owned and that understanding would have been enough to make her cum, if only master had given his permission.
She shivered deliciously, fighting to stop herself from making a sound. The girl wanted to beg, to plead for instruction, but she held her tongue, knowing that the reward for her obedience would be so very sweet when it came.
* * *
The Confectioner watched the once proud woman, his liquid features twisted and hungry. Almost tenderly, he stripped away the now unnecessary mask, exposing his captive's beautiful face. Arousal thrummed through his body, stirring lust as well as anger. Unconsciously he began to softly stroke the nape of her neck.
“Hello, pretty slaveslut,” he grinned triumphantly.
“Master,” the girl breathed, her voice filled with longing.
The villain's heart hammered to a potent combination of desire and jubilation. The words he had dreamed of hearing for such a long time were pure music to his ears. It thrilled him, to the very depth of his being.
He tangled his slimy fingers in his slave's long, matted hair and drew her to him. Pressure knotted between his buttocks, promising a release that had been denied him for so long. Ever since his transformation, in fact. How fitting that the cause of his disability would also be its cure.
“Come,” he coaxed. “Taste the bliss of your surrender.”
Sickly sweet flesh flowed into the heroine's welcoming mouth and she immediately began to suckle and lap at the cloying syrup. The Confectioner groaned his approval, pressing into his slave's clever tongue.
He had been wound too tight and for far too long. All thought of prolonging his pleasure simply melted at the first touch of slave's soft lips and then, when her teeth grazed his skin, it was clear that it was all over. He gasped, feeling his body tense, becoming all but rigid in anticipation. Then, he was pumping his hips frantically and grinding himself into his captive’s face.
The former heroine's reaction was far more impressive than his own. Unable to hold the tide of rich ooze in her mouth, it spilled forth, running in sluggish trickles over her shining breasts. But even a taste of that potent distillate was enough to bring the full weight of orgasmic ecstasy crashing down upon her.
They came together, sealing the transformation and leaving them both spent.
She lay collapsed in an oozing pool of her own submission. Dishevelled, abused and utterly exhausted. Her once resolute features spattered with the undeniable proof of her complete and total defeat.
* * *
Meanwhile, back in Crescent City, Geist surveyed the lair. She'd been alerted to the intrusion remotely and had wasted no time in returning from her training. It was obvious from the moment she arrived that the place had been compromised.
Using her new-found abilities she literally ghosted through the building, avoiding the myriad distractions left by their unwelcome guest. Although she had never faced the candy-themed supervillain herself, Geist was well aware of the Confectioner's signature and she immediately recognised his work.
If Ampere really was in the clutches of that foul fiend, then they had no time to waste. In the past her mentor had defeated him through a mixture of fast thinking and luck. But Geist remembered her own ordeal at the hands of the Anaesthetist and his nefarious minions and, more importantly, how Ampere had raced to the rescue with no thought of her own safety.
She thought of her friend, clad in layers of nanite-enhanced plating, her knight in shining armour. The image was enough to make her shiver. But the memory didn’t end there. Geist replayed the events in the Anaesthetist’s lair. The glassy eyed expression on Ampere’s face, as the villain’s dart stole her will. The shock of seeing her friend so helpless and of being forced to take control. The young woman remembered how wrong it had felt and yet so exciting.
The other heroine had always been there for her. Protecting and advising her. Up until that moment Ampere had seemed invulnerable. But now, Geist couldn’t shift the feeling that this might prove to be a peril from which even her friend couldn't escape unaided. The problem was there seemed no way to discover where the villain had taken her. Or was there?
Something had been nagging at the heroine while her mind wandered and, quite suddenly, she realised what it was. Ampere’s nanomolecular servants would follow wherever she went, drawing energy from the superheroine herself. All Geist had to do was track their unique signature straight back to the villain.
Geist may not have had her friend’s ‘way’ with computers, but she was more than capable of tracing the signal. Somewhat to her surprise, the trail led not to some abandoned sweet factory or chemical laboratory, but instead to a business park on the outskirts of the city.
Moments later, with the nanite’s location safely downloaded into her communicator, she climbed astride Dub and urged the semi-sentient motorbike up the steep ramp and out of the base. She hammered through the streets of Crescent City, squinting against the early morning sun and trying not to give up hope. Geist knew she had to believe that she would get there in time to rescue her friend. She simply had to.
To be continued…
Awareness returned in slow stages, each new revelation another horror. Her world was blanketed in a thick cotton-candy fog and, no matter how far she stretched, it seemed impossible to pierce that cloying barrier.
Ampere was a passenger in her own body, forced to watch, impotently, but able to experience everything with painfully sharp clarity. Alien thoughts impinged on her, forcing themselves into her mind and growing increasingly more difficult to deny. The pleasure of her absolute obedience massaged her mind and she could almost sense herself growing more servile.
She howled, recognising her defeat and yet unable to believe it could possibly end like this. The tiny, locked-away piece of her consciousness could do nothing as her body was finally released from the syrup-filled prison. Thin strands of devotion coiled around her perceptions, adding a strange dichotomy to her emotions and just for an instant she couldn't remember why she was still fighting.
* * *
The girl collapsed, tumbling from the cylinder amidst a torrent of sticky sap. The light, rubber mask clung to her face and a mess of matted blonde hair was plastered to her scalp. She gasped for air, filling her straining lungs with the last wisps of sugar steam. Only then did she become aware of her surroundings, and her eyes almost immediately found those of her master.
Despite the fatigue, her body immediately snapped to kneeling attention. Her spine ramrod straight, hands clasped together in the small of her back and her legs parted in submissive invitation. She averted her gaze, staring down at the puddle spreading around her. Her body trembled in anticipation, longing for his voice and the commands she would have no choice but to obey.
The thought of being compelled to act resonated through her mind, thrilling her with its depraved intensity. She was just so weak and helpless. So defeated, so owned and that understanding would have been enough to make her cum, if only master had given his permission.
She shivered deliciously, fighting to stop herself from making a sound. The girl wanted to beg, to plead for instruction, but she held her tongue, knowing that the reward for her obedience would be so very sweet when it came.
* * *
The Confectioner watched the once proud woman, his liquid features twisted and hungry. Almost tenderly, he stripped away the now unnecessary mask, exposing his captive's beautiful face. Arousal thrummed through his body, stirring lust as well as anger. Unconsciously he began to softly stroke the nape of her neck.
“Hello, pretty slaveslut,” he grinned triumphantly.
“Master,” the girl breathed, her voice filled with longing.
The villain's heart hammered to a potent combination of desire and jubilation. The words he had dreamed of hearing for such a long time were pure music to his ears. It thrilled him, to the very depth of his being.
He tangled his slimy fingers in his slave's long, matted hair and drew her to him. Pressure knotted between his buttocks, promising a release that had been denied him for so long. Ever since his transformation, in fact. How fitting that the cause of his disability would also be its cure.
“Come,” he coaxed. “Taste the bliss of your surrender.”
Sickly sweet flesh flowed into the heroine's welcoming mouth and she immediately began to suckle and lap at the cloying syrup. The Confectioner groaned his approval, pressing into his slave's clever tongue.
He had been wound too tight and for far too long. All thought of prolonging his pleasure simply melted at the first touch of slave's soft lips and then, when her teeth grazed his skin, it was clear that it was all over. He gasped, feeling his body tense, becoming all but rigid in anticipation. Then, he was pumping his hips frantically and grinding himself into his captive’s face.
The former heroine's reaction was far more impressive than his own. Unable to hold the tide of rich ooze in her mouth, it spilled forth, running in sluggish trickles over her shining breasts. But even a taste of that potent distillate was enough to bring the full weight of orgasmic ecstasy crashing down upon her.
They came together, sealing the transformation and leaving them both spent.
She lay collapsed in an oozing pool of her own submission. Dishevelled, abused and utterly exhausted. Her once resolute features spattered with the undeniable proof of her complete and total defeat.
* * *
Meanwhile, back in Crescent City, Geist surveyed the lair. She'd been alerted to the intrusion remotely and had wasted no time in returning from her training. It was obvious from the moment she arrived that the place had been compromised.
Using her new-found abilities she literally ghosted through the building, avoiding the myriad distractions left by their unwelcome guest. Although she had never faced the candy-themed supervillain herself, Geist was well aware of the Confectioner's signature and she immediately recognised his work.
If Ampere really was in the clutches of that foul fiend, then they had no time to waste. In the past her mentor had defeated him through a mixture of fast thinking and luck. But Geist remembered her own ordeal at the hands of the Anaesthetist and his nefarious minions and, more importantly, how Ampere had raced to the rescue with no thought of her own safety.
She thought of her friend, clad in layers of nanite-enhanced plating, her knight in shining armour. The image was enough to make her shiver. But the memory didn’t end there. Geist replayed the events in the Anaesthetist’s lair. The glassy eyed expression on Ampere’s face, as the villain’s dart stole her will. The shock of seeing her friend so helpless and of being forced to take control. The young woman remembered how wrong it had felt and yet so exciting.
The other heroine had always been there for her. Protecting and advising her. Up until that moment Ampere had seemed invulnerable. But now, Geist couldn’t shift the feeling that this might prove to be a peril from which even her friend couldn't escape unaided. The problem was there seemed no way to discover where the villain had taken her. Or was there?
Something had been nagging at the heroine while her mind wandered and, quite suddenly, she realised what it was. Ampere’s nanomolecular servants would follow wherever she went, drawing energy from the superheroine herself. All Geist had to do was track their unique signature straight back to the villain.
Geist may not have had her friend’s ‘way’ with computers, but she was more than capable of tracing the signal. Somewhat to her surprise, the trail led not to some abandoned sweet factory or chemical laboratory, but instead to a business park on the outskirts of the city.
Moments later, with the nanite’s location safely downloaded into her communicator, she climbed astride Dub and urged the semi-sentient motorbike up the steep ramp and out of the base. She hammered through the streets of Crescent City, squinting against the early morning sun and trying not to give up hope. Geist knew she had to believe that she would get there in time to rescue her friend. She simply had to.
To be continued…
-
TimeWaster
- Neophyte Lvl 2
- Posts: 15
- Joined: 21 years ago
- Location: UK
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Great start to the story, good to see the Confectioner is back to his sickly sweet ways. what a sweetie he is :twisted:
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Thank you, I was beginning to worry that this chapter had 'missed'. But yes, the Confectioner is a fun character to write (and it seemed like he was more than due for a little payback).
-
TimeWaster
- Neophyte Lvl 2
- Posts: 15
- Joined: 21 years ago
- Location: UK
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
It's just the nature of online forums many people read, lurk, steal & few people comment or contribute. It's the same on nearly every forum but doesn't mean that your work has gone unappreciated. It takes quite a while to read some of the stories on this forum as well, particularly yours that are lengthy but well written.sara-c wrote:Thank you, I was beginning to worry that this chapter had 'missed'
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Thank you both, especially for the reality check, TimeWaster 
And all being well, the rest of this arc should be ready for the weekend.
And all being well, the rest of this arc should be ready for the weekend.
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
If You Can't Trust You Friends...
She left Dub parked some distance from the business park. In stealth-mode there was little chance of anyone stumbling across it and besides, the motorcycle was smart enough to avoid detection if necessary. Geist’s old car had been converted into a complex booby trap by another supervillain and she had no desire to repeat the experience.
This wasn’t the first time she had stolen into the bad guy’s lair. But last time she’d been far too cocky and only succeeded in getting herself caught. This time she simple couldn’t afford to get sloppy. Ampere was relying on her and there was no way she was going to let her friend down.
Her training wasn’t complete, technically it never would be, but her control was shaky at best and they still hadn’t been able to map the limits of her abilities. Despite all that, Geist knew that there was no other option. The police simply weren’t capable of dealing with a criminal like the Confectioner. This was a job for a superheroine.
It had taken several weeks for her to stop herself from sinking into the ground as she walked, even longer to reliably drag other items with her when she ghosted. The researchers speculated that one day she might even be able to use her powers to literally walk on air. But that was something to think about another time.
The business park was a sprawl of small buildings and neatly sculpted lawns. Geist paused in the shadows beyond the perimeter fence. She took a moment to prepare herself and then faded from sight. It took far more concentration to remain intangible, but the effort was worth it, especially if it let her avoid what unpleasant surprises with which the Confectioner had seeded the grounds.
With Ampere’s signal to lead her, the young heroine made her way cautiously through the park. Mundane security systems paid her no heed as she approached the source of her friend’s transmission. The single-story building was outwardly unremarkable, but Geist knew how deceptive appearances could be. Expecting some sort of trap, she ignored the main entrance and instead slid carefully through the wall.
Inside, the Confectioner’s presence was unmistakable. Garish stalactites depended from the ceiling, dripping glowing neon tears that pooled and puddle on the tiled floor. The air was sickly sweet, heavy with the cloying scent of fruits and sugar. But more importantly, the communicator indicated that Ampere was almost close enough to signal directly.
Things slithered in the shadows and could be heard lapping at the spilled juices. Geist push aside her fears, focussing on her abilities and the calming exercises she had spent so long practicing. Still, the heroine couldn’t quite suppress her fearful shivers.
Moving a little more rapidly, the heroine moved beyond the cave-like corridor and into a remodelled lobby. The pot plants had been replaced with inch-thick tangles of crimson liquorice and, here and there, more slender strands dangled menacingly overhead.
Geist whispered into the communicator, unable to keep the anxiety from her trembling voice.
“Amps,” she began hesitantly, “can you hear me?”
Silence greeted her question, while the channel echoed with soft static. The young woman checked the device again, making sure that she was in range. But everything seemed to be working perfectly. As far as Geist was concerned that meant Ampere either hadn’t heard her, or was in no position to answer.
“Don’t worry,” she breathed hoping her words sounded more confident than she felt. “Hold tight, I’m coming to get you.”
* * *
Something familiar touched the edges of Ampere’s perception. For a fraction of a second she felt it and then it was gone, lost in the swirling clouds of hopeless devotion. She stretched her senses, but the impression remained tantalisingly out of reach.
It was important, she realised that almost immediately, although the heroine would have been hard-pressed to explain why. The compulsion to forget was strong, as was the memory of just how good it felt to stop thinking and do as she was told.
But she wasn’t going to abandon it. However much she might long for the comforting simplicity of thoughtless obedience. Ampere knew she had to stay focussed and that if her mind began to wonder now, she might never find the way back to herself.
* * *
The girl’s head snapped around as she tried to see who had spoken. Confusion swamped everything else, making it so difficult to think. She simply didn’t know what to do and her need for instruction was a hollow ache deep inside. It was only when the woman spoke again that she recognised the disembodied voice.
Fear gnawed at her. An intruder was coming to spoil her perfect existence and that could not be allowed. She knew that she was happy here, why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Anger joined the heady mix of emotion, crackling over her bare skin and lighting her eyes from within.
“Master,” she breathed, the joy of that title almost orgasmic in its intensity.
“Slave,” he replied with an indulgent chuckle. “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.”
Her cheeks coloured and she bowed her head in shame. Almost whispering now she continued, knowing that master needed to hear, even if it meant she must be punished. A shudder of excitement rolled down her spine at the thought of being chastised and her pussy clenched in slavish anticipation.
“Slave begs forgiveness,” she pleaded, her voice cracking under the strain. “But an intruder is coming and she thought master would want to know.”
“What intruder?” The Confectioner wondered as he plucked a handful of jelly beans from the shelf beside him.
“Geist,” she answered immediately. “She is coming to take slave away from all this.”
The look of horror on his slave’s face was too perfect for words. Her friend was coming to the rescue and that thought left the former heroine terrified beyond words.
“I won’t allow that happen,” he promised softly, placing one hand protectively upon her shoulder.
Her frightened expression softened and she nuzzled against his touch. The sugar tingled against her flesh, but the constant contact had lessened its effect to a muted roar. The Confectioner patted his slave reassuringly.
* * *
Geist had developed a deep distrust of doors, not least because of her experiences in the Anaesthetist’s lair. So, once she was sure of Ampere’s location, she took the most direct route through the building. The young heroine had no idea what she was going to walk in on. But the scene that greeted her as she stepped through the final wall was enough to pull her up short.
Her friend was kneeling in the centre of the small room, her posture proud and almost defiant despite her nakedness. Around her throat was a transparent collar, from which dangled a slender leash. The Confectioner held the other end of the tether, but this wasn’t the villain Ampere had described.
The coat covered him almost completely, but did nothing to hide his strangeness. Amber fluid leaked from him as she watched, trickling over the heavy material, where it hardened to a thin crust. Her expression grim, Geist drew and aimed her dart gun. She didn’t know what he had done to her mentor and friend, but it was time to end this.
She took a deep breath to steady herself and then calmly squeezed the trigger.
With a moist ‘phutt’, the weapon fired. As the tiny projectile left its barrel it immediate passed beyond Geist’s control and became substantial once again. She was already working the action, readying a second shot, even before the first had reached its target.
* * *
Something tugged at the Confectioner’s clothing as the needle punched home. But the villain’s metabolism had been so changed that the drug had no discernable effect. What it did do, however, was alert him to Geist’s presence.
“She’s here,” he murmured, sweeping his eyes around the small room.
The second dart caught him in the throat, although it was no more effective than the first. His hand tightened on the leash, dragging his kneeling slave close. Where on earth was the woman firing from?
“Where is she?” He demanded angrily.
Slave gestured quickly, indicating one corner of the chamber. Taking his cue, the villain hurled those brightly coloured beans towards the hidden heroine. The sweets bounced into the corner, where they exploded into large pastel bubbles.
But his captive’s finger continued to move, apparently tracking the intruder as she dodged away from the expanding candy traps.
Without warning a young woman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. She appeared indistinct, almost translucent and in her charcoal catsuit she could have been formed from smoke. The dartgun was still in her hand, but its barrel was pointed down.
“Amps,” she pleaded. “I’ve come to rescue you.”
The former heroine stared at this apparition, her eyes wide. Then, she gave a piercing scream.
“No!”
Lightning flowed from her extended finger, lashing Geist with burning cerulean coils. Energy splashed across the heroine’s insubstantial form, grounding into the spunky young woman and disrupting her power.
Geist had only enough time to yelp before the sheer strength of the assault dashed away her awareness and drove her mind down into merciful unconsciousness. The heroine slumped to the floor, wisps of smoke rising from her skin-tight outfit and sparks still flickering restlessly over her body.
To be continued…
She left Dub parked some distance from the business park. In stealth-mode there was little chance of anyone stumbling across it and besides, the motorcycle was smart enough to avoid detection if necessary. Geist’s old car had been converted into a complex booby trap by another supervillain and she had no desire to repeat the experience.
This wasn’t the first time she had stolen into the bad guy’s lair. But last time she’d been far too cocky and only succeeded in getting herself caught. This time she simple couldn’t afford to get sloppy. Ampere was relying on her and there was no way she was going to let her friend down.
Her training wasn’t complete, technically it never would be, but her control was shaky at best and they still hadn’t been able to map the limits of her abilities. Despite all that, Geist knew that there was no other option. The police simply weren’t capable of dealing with a criminal like the Confectioner. This was a job for a superheroine.
It had taken several weeks for her to stop herself from sinking into the ground as she walked, even longer to reliably drag other items with her when she ghosted. The researchers speculated that one day she might even be able to use her powers to literally walk on air. But that was something to think about another time.
The business park was a sprawl of small buildings and neatly sculpted lawns. Geist paused in the shadows beyond the perimeter fence. She took a moment to prepare herself and then faded from sight. It took far more concentration to remain intangible, but the effort was worth it, especially if it let her avoid what unpleasant surprises with which the Confectioner had seeded the grounds.
With Ampere’s signal to lead her, the young heroine made her way cautiously through the park. Mundane security systems paid her no heed as she approached the source of her friend’s transmission. The single-story building was outwardly unremarkable, but Geist knew how deceptive appearances could be. Expecting some sort of trap, she ignored the main entrance and instead slid carefully through the wall.
Inside, the Confectioner’s presence was unmistakable. Garish stalactites depended from the ceiling, dripping glowing neon tears that pooled and puddle on the tiled floor. The air was sickly sweet, heavy with the cloying scent of fruits and sugar. But more importantly, the communicator indicated that Ampere was almost close enough to signal directly.
Things slithered in the shadows and could be heard lapping at the spilled juices. Geist push aside her fears, focussing on her abilities and the calming exercises she had spent so long practicing. Still, the heroine couldn’t quite suppress her fearful shivers.
Moving a little more rapidly, the heroine moved beyond the cave-like corridor and into a remodelled lobby. The pot plants had been replaced with inch-thick tangles of crimson liquorice and, here and there, more slender strands dangled menacingly overhead.
Geist whispered into the communicator, unable to keep the anxiety from her trembling voice.
“Amps,” she began hesitantly, “can you hear me?”
Silence greeted her question, while the channel echoed with soft static. The young woman checked the device again, making sure that she was in range. But everything seemed to be working perfectly. As far as Geist was concerned that meant Ampere either hadn’t heard her, or was in no position to answer.
“Don’t worry,” she breathed hoping her words sounded more confident than she felt. “Hold tight, I’m coming to get you.”
* * *
Something familiar touched the edges of Ampere’s perception. For a fraction of a second she felt it and then it was gone, lost in the swirling clouds of hopeless devotion. She stretched her senses, but the impression remained tantalisingly out of reach.
It was important, she realised that almost immediately, although the heroine would have been hard-pressed to explain why. The compulsion to forget was strong, as was the memory of just how good it felt to stop thinking and do as she was told.
But she wasn’t going to abandon it. However much she might long for the comforting simplicity of thoughtless obedience. Ampere knew she had to stay focussed and that if her mind began to wonder now, she might never find the way back to herself.
* * *
The girl’s head snapped around as she tried to see who had spoken. Confusion swamped everything else, making it so difficult to think. She simply didn’t know what to do and her need for instruction was a hollow ache deep inside. It was only when the woman spoke again that she recognised the disembodied voice.
Fear gnawed at her. An intruder was coming to spoil her perfect existence and that could not be allowed. She knew that she was happy here, why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Anger joined the heady mix of emotion, crackling over her bare skin and lighting her eyes from within.
“Master,” she breathed, the joy of that title almost orgasmic in its intensity.
“Slave,” he replied with an indulgent chuckle. “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.”
Her cheeks coloured and she bowed her head in shame. Almost whispering now she continued, knowing that master needed to hear, even if it meant she must be punished. A shudder of excitement rolled down her spine at the thought of being chastised and her pussy clenched in slavish anticipation.
“Slave begs forgiveness,” she pleaded, her voice cracking under the strain. “But an intruder is coming and she thought master would want to know.”
“What intruder?” The Confectioner wondered as he plucked a handful of jelly beans from the shelf beside him.
“Geist,” she answered immediately. “She is coming to take slave away from all this.”
The look of horror on his slave’s face was too perfect for words. Her friend was coming to the rescue and that thought left the former heroine terrified beyond words.
“I won’t allow that happen,” he promised softly, placing one hand protectively upon her shoulder.
Her frightened expression softened and she nuzzled against his touch. The sugar tingled against her flesh, but the constant contact had lessened its effect to a muted roar. The Confectioner patted his slave reassuringly.
* * *
Geist had developed a deep distrust of doors, not least because of her experiences in the Anaesthetist’s lair. So, once she was sure of Ampere’s location, she took the most direct route through the building. The young heroine had no idea what she was going to walk in on. But the scene that greeted her as she stepped through the final wall was enough to pull her up short.
Her friend was kneeling in the centre of the small room, her posture proud and almost defiant despite her nakedness. Around her throat was a transparent collar, from which dangled a slender leash. The Confectioner held the other end of the tether, but this wasn’t the villain Ampere had described.
The coat covered him almost completely, but did nothing to hide his strangeness. Amber fluid leaked from him as she watched, trickling over the heavy material, where it hardened to a thin crust. Her expression grim, Geist drew and aimed her dart gun. She didn’t know what he had done to her mentor and friend, but it was time to end this.
She took a deep breath to steady herself and then calmly squeezed the trigger.
With a moist ‘phutt’, the weapon fired. As the tiny projectile left its barrel it immediate passed beyond Geist’s control and became substantial once again. She was already working the action, readying a second shot, even before the first had reached its target.
* * *
Something tugged at the Confectioner’s clothing as the needle punched home. But the villain’s metabolism had been so changed that the drug had no discernable effect. What it did do, however, was alert him to Geist’s presence.
“She’s here,” he murmured, sweeping his eyes around the small room.
The second dart caught him in the throat, although it was no more effective than the first. His hand tightened on the leash, dragging his kneeling slave close. Where on earth was the woman firing from?
“Where is she?” He demanded angrily.
Slave gestured quickly, indicating one corner of the chamber. Taking his cue, the villain hurled those brightly coloured beans towards the hidden heroine. The sweets bounced into the corner, where they exploded into large pastel bubbles.
But his captive’s finger continued to move, apparently tracking the intruder as she dodged away from the expanding candy traps.
Without warning a young woman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. She appeared indistinct, almost translucent and in her charcoal catsuit she could have been formed from smoke. The dartgun was still in her hand, but its barrel was pointed down.
“Amps,” she pleaded. “I’ve come to rescue you.”
The former heroine stared at this apparition, her eyes wide. Then, she gave a piercing scream.
“No!”
Lightning flowed from her extended finger, lashing Geist with burning cerulean coils. Energy splashed across the heroine’s insubstantial form, grounding into the spunky young woman and disrupting her power.
Geist had only enough time to yelp before the sheer strength of the assault dashed away her awareness and drove her mind down into merciful unconsciousness. The heroine slumped to the floor, wisps of smoke rising from her skin-tight outfit and sparks still flickering restlessly over her body.
To be continued…
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Sisters under the skin
The villain stared at the fallen heroine in stunned amazement. He certainly hadn’t expected his slave to show such initiative. In fact, because she had managed to resist his concoctions before, he had been reluctant to trust her conditioning when it came to acting against her friend.
Slave clung to him, shivering with fear and spent adrenaline. Gently he reached down and stroked her soft hair, while Geist twitched spastically and gave one long, plaintive groan.
“Good girl,” he smiled, his pleasure heartfelt. “I am so very proud of you.”
The feel of her body pressed so close was distracting, and it stirred emotions he simply didn’t have time to indulge. Slowly her trembling subsided and he patted her bare shoulder reassuringly, letting his fingers linger overlong against the smooth plastic collar.
“Now,” the villain wondered. “What do you think we should do with her?”
She paused for a moment, before replying. Her eyes remained downcast and her voice was barely a whisper. The Confectioner sensed her shivering again, the lightest touch against his thigh. All the while, he continued to massage his warm stickiness into her flesh.
“Whatever master desires,” she breathed.
He chuckled, but not unkindly. Then, his hand swept over his slave’s spine and down into the cleft between her buttocks. As he bent, the Confectioner let his hot, sweet breath sting her ear.
“Yes,” he agreed, “and, at this moment, what I desire is for you to share your thoughts.”
“Master,” slave began hesitantly. “She should be fixed.”
Blinking in surprise, the villain regarded his slave, his mouth twisting in to a cruel smile.
“Fixed?” He asked, wonderingly.
“If master wishes it,” she added hurriedly.
The Confectioner continued to knead her warm skin, pressing his finger into that yielding flesh and matching the slow rhythm of her pulse. She gave a sharp gasp as the dark treacle began to slither between her ripe curves and her body quivered deliciously.
“Tell me, slave,” the villain insisted. “Do you have feelings for this girl?”
“Yes, master,” slave admitted.
“Then why do you want her… fixed?” He pressed.
For a long moment she didn’t answer. Then, just as he was about to ask the question again, the reply spilled out, a rush of words that somehow strived to make his victory all the more sweet.
“Because I want her to be as happy as I am,” she offered, raising her gaze to meet his, “and because if something isn’t done she’ll just keep coming back, over and over, trying to take me away from all this. Away from you…”
He stared down at his slave, struggling to contain his excitement.
“Of course,” he told her, beaming at his possession, “you have more than earned this reward.”
“Oh thank you, master,” she said with glee, bowing her head once more.
“And tell me, little one,” he added softly. “Would you like to help me prepare her?”
* * *
The slave smiled, basking in her master’s approval. His finger continued to tap its lewd tattoo and it took all her concentration not to squirm against it. Then, quite suddenly the pressure was gone, leaving only the oozing syrup to burn against her pale skin.
Master stepped away, leaving her feeling unaccountably small and weak. She watched, as he approached her fallen friend and smeared his hand across her mouth. Part of her ached to be treated just the same, and her muscles tensed, desperately trying to trap that thin trickle of sugared heat.
She heard Geist’s low moan. The soft exhalation as master’s touch stole what remained of her awareness. And it was all she could do to stop herself from cumming.
Then he turned and beckoned to her, drawing his slave to him and indicating Geist’s catsuit and its concealed zipper.
“Why don’t you unwrap your present?” The villain suggested.
With trembling fingers she reached out. Flicking open the trick panel, she slowly pulled down the zip. Geist’s cleavage was revealed inch by inch, and slave found she was holding her breath until those beautiful breasts could spill forth.
Still the zipper continued its journey, slashing across the unconscious woman’s taut stomach and down into the shaved delta of her sex. Unable to help herself, slave slid her hand over one of those wonderfully ripe tits and swept it in long luxurious circles. She was rewarded with a soft whimper that made her jerk in surprise.
This was her friend, slave knew. Someone for whom she had harboured feelings she couldn’t possibly express. And in just a little while, thanks to master, they would once again be sisters under the skin. Two girls, of one mind and with a singular purpose.
“You will love this,” she promised.
* * *
He watched as his slave stripped the younger heroine out of her costume, noting how avidly slave’s hands clung to her friend’s flesh. It was easy to imagine the feelings, so tightly repressed for so long, simply bursting forth at her master’s command.
“Would you like to play with her?” He asked gently, reaching into his coat.
“May I?” Slave sighed, the hope so clear in her voice.
“There’s more than enough time,” he explained. “Your friend isn’t going to wake any time soon.”
“Thank you, master,” she gasped, her face bright.
The Confectioner handed her a large amber lollypop, which she reached out tentatively and took. His grin grew more conspiratorial as she gazed at the strange sweet in perplexed anticipation.
“First you have to wet it,” he encouraged.
Slave raised the lollypop to her mouth and then, quite suddenly, stopped. For a heartbeat she seemed to consider and then, throwing him the most perversely knowing look he could ever remember, the former heroine lowered her hand. Never once did her eyes leave those of her master.
Her smile was quite filthy as she paused at the entrance to her already sopping sex. Then, very deliberately, she forced the sweet between her pouting lips and into the molten heat of her utterly owned cunt.
He watched, transfixed, as she rolled his candy treat over her trembling walls and then drew it forth again in a series of slow, trembling tugs. The villain was already hard, and his slave seemed to delight in the carnal power she held over him.
* * *
Slave’s cunt was aflame and the candy’s melting kiss continued to burn hotter and hotter, until it could almost overpower master’s lingering, silken touch. But she had seen how he was looking at her and that was all she needed.
Gingerly slave swept the sticky sweet over Geist’s helpless flesh, painting her friend’s body with a thin smear of sticky heat. First one pink nipple and then the other, drawing that tender flesh up into taut arousal. The girl twitched with each slippery caress, whining softly while her body strained for the lascivious attention.
Moving horribly slowly, she dragged the toxic treat across the centre of her friend’s stomach, letting its glistening juice seep into Geist navel, before the lollypop slid down over her swollen pubis. Slave turned to her master and returned his desirous stare. Then she plunged the candy deep between her friend’s gaping cuntlips.
Geist cried out weakly, arching her body in wanton need. The movement drew slave’s attention, as did her increasingly passionate moans. She turned back, marvelling at how responsive the young woman had become. Her sleepy, uncoordinated thrashing was sensuous and quite hideously erotic.
Then master cupped her breasts in his marvellously controlling hands and she was cumming even harder than her friend.
To be continued…
The villain stared at the fallen heroine in stunned amazement. He certainly hadn’t expected his slave to show such initiative. In fact, because she had managed to resist his concoctions before, he had been reluctant to trust her conditioning when it came to acting against her friend.
Slave clung to him, shivering with fear and spent adrenaline. Gently he reached down and stroked her soft hair, while Geist twitched spastically and gave one long, plaintive groan.
“Good girl,” he smiled, his pleasure heartfelt. “I am so very proud of you.”
The feel of her body pressed so close was distracting, and it stirred emotions he simply didn’t have time to indulge. Slowly her trembling subsided and he patted her bare shoulder reassuringly, letting his fingers linger overlong against the smooth plastic collar.
“Now,” the villain wondered. “What do you think we should do with her?”
She paused for a moment, before replying. Her eyes remained downcast and her voice was barely a whisper. The Confectioner sensed her shivering again, the lightest touch against his thigh. All the while, he continued to massage his warm stickiness into her flesh.
“Whatever master desires,” she breathed.
He chuckled, but not unkindly. Then, his hand swept over his slave’s spine and down into the cleft between her buttocks. As he bent, the Confectioner let his hot, sweet breath sting her ear.
“Yes,” he agreed, “and, at this moment, what I desire is for you to share your thoughts.”
“Master,” slave began hesitantly. “She should be fixed.”
Blinking in surprise, the villain regarded his slave, his mouth twisting in to a cruel smile.
“Fixed?” He asked, wonderingly.
“If master wishes it,” she added hurriedly.
The Confectioner continued to knead her warm skin, pressing his finger into that yielding flesh and matching the slow rhythm of her pulse. She gave a sharp gasp as the dark treacle began to slither between her ripe curves and her body quivered deliciously.
“Tell me, slave,” the villain insisted. “Do you have feelings for this girl?”
“Yes, master,” slave admitted.
“Then why do you want her… fixed?” He pressed.
For a long moment she didn’t answer. Then, just as he was about to ask the question again, the reply spilled out, a rush of words that somehow strived to make his victory all the more sweet.
“Because I want her to be as happy as I am,” she offered, raising her gaze to meet his, “and because if something isn’t done she’ll just keep coming back, over and over, trying to take me away from all this. Away from you…”
He stared down at his slave, struggling to contain his excitement.
“Of course,” he told her, beaming at his possession, “you have more than earned this reward.”
“Oh thank you, master,” she said with glee, bowing her head once more.
“And tell me, little one,” he added softly. “Would you like to help me prepare her?”
* * *
The slave smiled, basking in her master’s approval. His finger continued to tap its lewd tattoo and it took all her concentration not to squirm against it. Then, quite suddenly the pressure was gone, leaving only the oozing syrup to burn against her pale skin.
Master stepped away, leaving her feeling unaccountably small and weak. She watched, as he approached her fallen friend and smeared his hand across her mouth. Part of her ached to be treated just the same, and her muscles tensed, desperately trying to trap that thin trickle of sugared heat.
She heard Geist’s low moan. The soft exhalation as master’s touch stole what remained of her awareness. And it was all she could do to stop herself from cumming.
Then he turned and beckoned to her, drawing his slave to him and indicating Geist’s catsuit and its concealed zipper.
“Why don’t you unwrap your present?” The villain suggested.
With trembling fingers she reached out. Flicking open the trick panel, she slowly pulled down the zip. Geist’s cleavage was revealed inch by inch, and slave found she was holding her breath until those beautiful breasts could spill forth.
Still the zipper continued its journey, slashing across the unconscious woman’s taut stomach and down into the shaved delta of her sex. Unable to help herself, slave slid her hand over one of those wonderfully ripe tits and swept it in long luxurious circles. She was rewarded with a soft whimper that made her jerk in surprise.
This was her friend, slave knew. Someone for whom she had harboured feelings she couldn’t possibly express. And in just a little while, thanks to master, they would once again be sisters under the skin. Two girls, of one mind and with a singular purpose.
“You will love this,” she promised.
* * *
He watched as his slave stripped the younger heroine out of her costume, noting how avidly slave’s hands clung to her friend’s flesh. It was easy to imagine the feelings, so tightly repressed for so long, simply bursting forth at her master’s command.
“Would you like to play with her?” He asked gently, reaching into his coat.
“May I?” Slave sighed, the hope so clear in her voice.
“There’s more than enough time,” he explained. “Your friend isn’t going to wake any time soon.”
“Thank you, master,” she gasped, her face bright.
The Confectioner handed her a large amber lollypop, which she reached out tentatively and took. His grin grew more conspiratorial as she gazed at the strange sweet in perplexed anticipation.
“First you have to wet it,” he encouraged.
Slave raised the lollypop to her mouth and then, quite suddenly, stopped. For a heartbeat she seemed to consider and then, throwing him the most perversely knowing look he could ever remember, the former heroine lowered her hand. Never once did her eyes leave those of her master.
Her smile was quite filthy as she paused at the entrance to her already sopping sex. Then, very deliberately, she forced the sweet between her pouting lips and into the molten heat of her utterly owned cunt.
He watched, transfixed, as she rolled his candy treat over her trembling walls and then drew it forth again in a series of slow, trembling tugs. The villain was already hard, and his slave seemed to delight in the carnal power she held over him.
* * *
Slave’s cunt was aflame and the candy’s melting kiss continued to burn hotter and hotter, until it could almost overpower master’s lingering, silken touch. But she had seen how he was looking at her and that was all she needed.
Gingerly slave swept the sticky sweet over Geist’s helpless flesh, painting her friend’s body with a thin smear of sticky heat. First one pink nipple and then the other, drawing that tender flesh up into taut arousal. The girl twitched with each slippery caress, whining softly while her body strained for the lascivious attention.
Moving horribly slowly, she dragged the toxic treat across the centre of her friend’s stomach, letting its glistening juice seep into Geist navel, before the lollypop slid down over her swollen pubis. Slave turned to her master and returned his desirous stare. Then she plunged the candy deep between her friend’s gaping cuntlips.
Geist cried out weakly, arching her body in wanton need. The movement drew slave’s attention, as did her increasingly passionate moans. She turned back, marvelling at how responsive the young woman had become. Her sleepy, uncoordinated thrashing was sensuous and quite hideously erotic.
Then master cupped her breasts in his marvellously controlling hands and she was cumming even harder than her friend.
To be continued…
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Geist gets the treatment
Ampere had felt the surge of power, but there had been nothing she could do to stop it. The reins were beyond her grasp and all she could do was watch as her stolen gift struck down Geist.
Then, adding insult to injury, she was forced to both watch and feel the cruel assault on the fallen heroine’s flesh. Worst still, she was made to enjoy every lewd touch and caress, while the villain’s groping hands roamed freely over her body.
She screamed in impotent rage, smashing metaphysical fists against the soft, yielding barrier of the Confectioner’s control. Ampere could feel its softness enveloping her, crushing into her mind and squeezing ever tighter. Her prison was shrinking, as the villain’s slave did more and more to distance herself from the old personality.
Soon, she knew, there would be no space left for her within the slave’s mind.
Slave’s orgasm ripped through her, its echoes far sweeter than any she had known. Crude fingers wrapped her in an impossible obscene embrace, pinning her hijacked body against him and reminding the helpless heroine that she was no more than a possession.
Weakly Ampere pressed against the cloying strength, no longer able to deny the truth of their shared desire as it spilled from slave’s defeated cunt.
For a fleeting second, something touched her in return. Then, it was gone, buzzing into the dim cloud of distant sensation. She stretched, finding only sweet seduction and, as the deceit threatened to mire her firmly in place, the heroine howled again, her anger fading into frustration and despair.
* * *
Geist was adrift, her mind consumed with lust and every nerve aflame. The young woman’s world was pleasure. Ecstasy so intense it threatened to become pain. The experience so profound it was enough to make her weep. Ice-coated flames licked hungrily against her, lavishing attention on her tormented clit and forcing the flesh to burn.
Nothing had prepared her for this, and her mental defences didn’t merely crumble, they simply ceased to be. In an instant they were swept away, leaving her mind hopelessly open and vulnerable. She tried to care, tried to find the strength to even wonder what would become of her.
But past and future held no meaning to her. There was only now, and the torrent of arousal threatening to utterly destroy her.
* * *
The Confectioner let his slave’s convulsions slowly settle. She slumped against him, exhausted, her nubile body now beaded with sweat. Slowly and with obvious reluctance, the villain allowed her heavily glazed breasts to slide from his hands.
She whined plaintively, trying to force her flesh back into his grasp, but he wasn’t so easily distracted. Slave recognised the change in master and immediately returned to a position of kneeling obedience. Master’s essence still clung to her body, painting every curve with his mark and leaving no doubt that she was his creature.
One hand curled around slave’s discarded leash, while, with the other arm, he hoisted Geist’s squirming body over his shoulder.
* * *
Slave followed behind, relishing the feel of the choking collar as its hard plastic bit into the back of her neck with every tug.
She knew where they were headed. Master was going to have the girl fixed. He was going to use all of his wonderful toys on her powerless body and show her the bliss of absolute servitude. Slave’s body quivered in anticipation, remembering the feel of girl-flesh beneath her fingers.
Soon they would be together again, more fully and perfectly than either of them would have ever imagined. United in their service to master, and in their love for one another.
Her fingers had already strayed to the entrance to her abused sex. Coils of creamy arousal decorated the skin and, here and there, lurked burning flecks of deepest crimson. Bringing her hand to her mouth, slave touched her tongue to the spicy heat and imagined how her sister would taste.
* * *
Once they reached the main laboratory, he lowered Geist onto a sculpted couch, and then looped slave’s leash to a d-ring set into its base. The villain spent some time getting his victim ‘comfortable’; buckling the light plastic straps to ensure there would be no chance of escape.
Next he took a thin needle from its sheath and expertly inserted it into the bound woman’s arm. Once the cannula was fixed in place, the Confectioner wasted no time connecting it to an intravenous giving set. He milked the heavy bag, squeezing the startlingly green fluid until it began to dribble into his captive’s vein.
Slave knelt close, watching avidly as he began the process that would steal away her friend’s mind. He could see how she stirred minutely, grinding herself down onto the cold tiles, and that uncontrolled desire twisted his mouth into a savage grin.
He took the gag and showed it to slave, enjoying the building need in her lust-fogged eyes. Next, he slipped it into Geist’s lax mouth, making sure it was in place, before securing the narrow strap. The mask fitted over the large candy ball, instantly misting with saturated steam and then proceeded to coat every inch of her succulent skin with his special honey.
First he lifted the large jar and poured the evil, amber syrup over her chest, letting it flow torpidly over her body, where it could settle into every nook and crevice. The unconscious heroine’s breathing became more ragged, until she was gasping and mewling. Slave echoed those wonderfully helpless sounds, her eyes still locked on them both.
Taking his time, the Confectioner used a fine pastry brush to smooth the clinging honey over the girl’s sensitive flesh. He worked the gleaming nectar into her body, making sure to coat her completely, from her throat down to her dainty toes.
The final touch was the slender liquorice strand that split the heroine’s puffy seam, filtering its lime green, toxic payload into her bloodstream and making her subjugation an absolute certainty.
* * *
Master turned away from his latest conquest and smiled down at his tethered slave. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and his arousal was all too evident.
“So, my precious slaveslut,” he asked. “How long do you think this will take?”
Slave shook her head, her eyes bright with adoration. The girl’s moaning surrender was a constant distraction, the weak sounds burrowed into her mind and sent excitement twinging deep inside.
All she wanted was to climb onto the couch and let master break her mind all over again, and proximity made that desire all the more undeniable.
“Well,” master grinned evilly. “How long do you suppose you lasted little one?”
She shivered, her eyes fixed on the unconscious woman and imagining what she was experiencing. The exotic scent of honey mixed with the all too human musk and slave knew that her feeble, slavish struggles could only have lasted seconds.
* * *
“A minute at most, master,” slave whispered in awe.
The villain chuckled, remembering the hours he had simply sat and watched her struggles. Then he hauled on the leash and dragged her to him.
“Good girl,” he laughed, once again stroking his fingers against her throat. “Let’s give your friend a good twelve hours, just to be sure.”
* * *
This time slave couldn’t keep herself from shuddering in delight. Just the thought of being so helpless, so controlled and so utterly lost was simply too much. The shudder thrummed between her taut buttocks, humming lewdly against her still throbbing clit. She tried to hold on, fighting again the seemingly inevitable climax.
Master watched, apparently enjoying her battle and then, finally, he whispered a soft and welcome entreaty.
“Cum for me,” the Confectioner commanded. “There’s a good girl.”
* * *
Thick, greasy control surrounded her, pressing ever closer. It seeped into her body, ruthlessly exploiting every orifice and muffling her protests under a blanket of horribly viscous coercion. Ampere could feel herself growing steadily weaker and indistinct and it felt unutterably wonderful.
She knew that Geist was being prepared, and could feel the dizzyingly reflected need that cascaded outwards from her slaveself. That pleasure was revisited upon her, sickening the heroine with its vulgar intensity. Hateful and amazing in equal measure, its touch was as unwelcome as it was irresistible.
For one prolonged second, Ampere could sense energy whizzing angrily around her. She felt elation, finally recognising these discrete power sources, and then, just as suddenly, they were gone. Brushed aside by the force of another mind-numbing climax.
To be continued…
Ampere had felt the surge of power, but there had been nothing she could do to stop it. The reins were beyond her grasp and all she could do was watch as her stolen gift struck down Geist.
Then, adding insult to injury, she was forced to both watch and feel the cruel assault on the fallen heroine’s flesh. Worst still, she was made to enjoy every lewd touch and caress, while the villain’s groping hands roamed freely over her body.
She screamed in impotent rage, smashing metaphysical fists against the soft, yielding barrier of the Confectioner’s control. Ampere could feel its softness enveloping her, crushing into her mind and squeezing ever tighter. Her prison was shrinking, as the villain’s slave did more and more to distance herself from the old personality.
Soon, she knew, there would be no space left for her within the slave’s mind.
Slave’s orgasm ripped through her, its echoes far sweeter than any she had known. Crude fingers wrapped her in an impossible obscene embrace, pinning her hijacked body against him and reminding the helpless heroine that she was no more than a possession.
Weakly Ampere pressed against the cloying strength, no longer able to deny the truth of their shared desire as it spilled from slave’s defeated cunt.
For a fleeting second, something touched her in return. Then, it was gone, buzzing into the dim cloud of distant sensation. She stretched, finding only sweet seduction and, as the deceit threatened to mire her firmly in place, the heroine howled again, her anger fading into frustration and despair.
* * *
Geist was adrift, her mind consumed with lust and every nerve aflame. The young woman’s world was pleasure. Ecstasy so intense it threatened to become pain. The experience so profound it was enough to make her weep. Ice-coated flames licked hungrily against her, lavishing attention on her tormented clit and forcing the flesh to burn.
Nothing had prepared her for this, and her mental defences didn’t merely crumble, they simply ceased to be. In an instant they were swept away, leaving her mind hopelessly open and vulnerable. She tried to care, tried to find the strength to even wonder what would become of her.
But past and future held no meaning to her. There was only now, and the torrent of arousal threatening to utterly destroy her.
* * *
The Confectioner let his slave’s convulsions slowly settle. She slumped against him, exhausted, her nubile body now beaded with sweat. Slowly and with obvious reluctance, the villain allowed her heavily glazed breasts to slide from his hands.
She whined plaintively, trying to force her flesh back into his grasp, but he wasn’t so easily distracted. Slave recognised the change in master and immediately returned to a position of kneeling obedience. Master’s essence still clung to her body, painting every curve with his mark and leaving no doubt that she was his creature.
One hand curled around slave’s discarded leash, while, with the other arm, he hoisted Geist’s squirming body over his shoulder.
* * *
Slave followed behind, relishing the feel of the choking collar as its hard plastic bit into the back of her neck with every tug.
She knew where they were headed. Master was going to have the girl fixed. He was going to use all of his wonderful toys on her powerless body and show her the bliss of absolute servitude. Slave’s body quivered in anticipation, remembering the feel of girl-flesh beneath her fingers.
Soon they would be together again, more fully and perfectly than either of them would have ever imagined. United in their service to master, and in their love for one another.
Her fingers had already strayed to the entrance to her abused sex. Coils of creamy arousal decorated the skin and, here and there, lurked burning flecks of deepest crimson. Bringing her hand to her mouth, slave touched her tongue to the spicy heat and imagined how her sister would taste.
* * *
Once they reached the main laboratory, he lowered Geist onto a sculpted couch, and then looped slave’s leash to a d-ring set into its base. The villain spent some time getting his victim ‘comfortable’; buckling the light plastic straps to ensure there would be no chance of escape.
Next he took a thin needle from its sheath and expertly inserted it into the bound woman’s arm. Once the cannula was fixed in place, the Confectioner wasted no time connecting it to an intravenous giving set. He milked the heavy bag, squeezing the startlingly green fluid until it began to dribble into his captive’s vein.
Slave knelt close, watching avidly as he began the process that would steal away her friend’s mind. He could see how she stirred minutely, grinding herself down onto the cold tiles, and that uncontrolled desire twisted his mouth into a savage grin.
He took the gag and showed it to slave, enjoying the building need in her lust-fogged eyes. Next, he slipped it into Geist’s lax mouth, making sure it was in place, before securing the narrow strap. The mask fitted over the large candy ball, instantly misting with saturated steam and then proceeded to coat every inch of her succulent skin with his special honey.
First he lifted the large jar and poured the evil, amber syrup over her chest, letting it flow torpidly over her body, where it could settle into every nook and crevice. The unconscious heroine’s breathing became more ragged, until she was gasping and mewling. Slave echoed those wonderfully helpless sounds, her eyes still locked on them both.
Taking his time, the Confectioner used a fine pastry brush to smooth the clinging honey over the girl’s sensitive flesh. He worked the gleaming nectar into her body, making sure to coat her completely, from her throat down to her dainty toes.
The final touch was the slender liquorice strand that split the heroine’s puffy seam, filtering its lime green, toxic payload into her bloodstream and making her subjugation an absolute certainty.
* * *
Master turned away from his latest conquest and smiled down at his tethered slave. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and his arousal was all too evident.
“So, my precious slaveslut,” he asked. “How long do you think this will take?”
Slave shook her head, her eyes bright with adoration. The girl’s moaning surrender was a constant distraction, the weak sounds burrowed into her mind and sent excitement twinging deep inside.
All she wanted was to climb onto the couch and let master break her mind all over again, and proximity made that desire all the more undeniable.
“Well,” master grinned evilly. “How long do you suppose you lasted little one?”
She shivered, her eyes fixed on the unconscious woman and imagining what she was experiencing. The exotic scent of honey mixed with the all too human musk and slave knew that her feeble, slavish struggles could only have lasted seconds.
* * *
“A minute at most, master,” slave whispered in awe.
The villain chuckled, remembering the hours he had simply sat and watched her struggles. Then he hauled on the leash and dragged her to him.
“Good girl,” he laughed, once again stroking his fingers against her throat. “Let’s give your friend a good twelve hours, just to be sure.”
* * *
This time slave couldn’t keep herself from shuddering in delight. Just the thought of being so helpless, so controlled and so utterly lost was simply too much. The shudder thrummed between her taut buttocks, humming lewdly against her still throbbing clit. She tried to hold on, fighting again the seemingly inevitable climax.
Master watched, apparently enjoying her battle and then, finally, he whispered a soft and welcome entreaty.
“Cum for me,” the Confectioner commanded. “There’s a good girl.”
* * *
Thick, greasy control surrounded her, pressing ever closer. It seeped into her body, ruthlessly exploiting every orifice and muffling her protests under a blanket of horribly viscous coercion. Ampere could feel herself growing steadily weaker and indistinct and it felt unutterably wonderful.
She knew that Geist was being prepared, and could feel the dizzyingly reflected need that cascaded outwards from her slaveself. That pleasure was revisited upon her, sickening the heroine with its vulgar intensity. Hateful and amazing in equal measure, its touch was as unwelcome as it was irresistible.
For one prolonged second, Ampere could sense energy whizzing angrily around her. She felt elation, finally recognising these discrete power sources, and then, just as suddenly, they were gone. Brushed aside by the force of another mind-numbing climax.
To be continued…
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Forlorn Hope
There was something about breaking these heroines, something that went far beyond the thrill of subjugating his other victims. Even the most inexperienced could prove a challenge and, whereas the likes of WPC Griffiths would never be a threat to him, these costumed cuties were dangerous right up to the moment their minds finally collapsed under the strain of inexorable pleasure.
That was why he wasn’t going to take his eye off Geist for a moment. The girl could literally walk through walls and, even with all his resources ranged against her, the Confectioner didn’t intend to relax until the girl’s mind was leashed as tightly as her friend’s.
Oh the things he would do with these two. The depths of depravity to which he would sink. He could feel himself growing hard at the thought and the memory of slave’s tongue was enough to send a ripple of delight shivering through his body. Slave, in turn, seemed to sense his thoughts, whimpering softly from her position at his feet and the villain couldn’t help but tense in response.
* * *
Slave gazed up into her master’s face, feeding off the barely contained lust he radiated. Somewhere in the background, Geist’s urgent moans added their own erotic counterpoint and slave wondered if life ever got any better than this.
Master was here, as was her dearest friend. Both of them revelling in the thrill of absolute control. Dimly she could remember the touch of the Confectioner’s sweets, and the blissful certainty they had given her. The touch of his sugared skin, the feel of him coating her, playing across every fold. Crystals shivered in the darkness, stirring her tender nub with agonisingly sharp caresses.
She wanted to scream. But it felt too good. The raw heat of her desire was all consuming and before it, everything else simply melted.
* * *
Warm sap trickled through the deep valley between slave’s breasts, stirring the skin into sticky goosebumps. The syrup clung to the young woman, stretching and flowing as the villain reached for his possession. Thick tendrils wrapped around the sweet softness, pinching so tightly that the swollen globes began to darken almost immediately.
The villain claimed his prize, trapping her writhing flesh and forcing her to jerk and spasm. One hand caught and held her, while the other slithered against Geist’s paralysed muscles, linking the two heroines in a delightfully lurid chain of sensation.
Beneath his hands, both girls’ captive bodies seemed to buzz with sensual energy. He could almost feel the willpower leaking from the gagged heroine’s pores. Every passing moment meant another little piece of her mind faded away.
Very slowly the Confectioner eased himself closer to slave, while his fingers continued their obscene massage. His disgustingly fluid manhood pumped rhythmically against her cleavage, ploughing the tight furrow between her sloshing, slime-coated tits. Extending himself still further, the villain pressed into both victims, viscous caresses that plumbed and probed.
Slave lips brushed the very tip of his engorged penis, just a touch, a hot, wet kiss that coiled arousal around his core and threatened to overwhelm what little self-control remained.
* * *
In the cloying darkness, Ampere had given up trying to break free. The Confectioner’s hold on her was just too complete, too total and, even though she could hardly admit it, even to herself, it simply felt too good.
The villain tantalised with his compulsive taste, teasing every sluttish impulse with the promise of that darkly rich control. Even the knowledge of the fate awaiting both heroines became almost irrelevant in the face of that raw crystallised lust.
But she had always been a fighter and, even when things were at there most bleak, Ampere refused to give up hope. Perhaps if the Confectioner hadn’t threatened her friend, but with Geist’s freedom on the line as well, the heroine simply couldn’t afford to accept the mindless bliss he offered, no matter how much she might yearn to do so.
She knew there was something out there and her last fleeting touch had finally given Ampere the clue she needed in order to recognise the diffuse pinpoints of energy orbiting her usurped body.
Amorphous layers of control pressed into her mind, while the Confectioners cruel fingers slid over and into her pallid skin. Ampere let her power range outward, searching for those elusive signals. Her own cries echoed in the rapidly shrinking prison, adding more tethers to the increasingly tight harness in which her thoughts were secured.
* * *
For an instant, slave could feel something stir deep inside. But Master’s presence still held her in its thrall. His limbs oozed over her exposed skin, while he crushed his hardness into her cleavage, thrusting into the moist valley of her pert and perfect tits.
She knew what it was, she recognised the feel of her other self. Hating the taste of independence and loathing every non-goodgirlish thought. Slave tried to warn him, but all she could manage was to whimper piteously as master grimaced and the sweet reward grew ever closer.
* * *
Ampere’s gift sought out the floating, molecular cloud, isolating each microscopic entity and instilling it with a glittering fragment. One by one she programmed the errant nanites, building and binding them together into a frighteningly complex neural network.
Connections formed and sprouted, trading information across the growing web.
The heroine could feel her slaveself react, but there was no time for subtly. She could only press on and hope that the relentless press of sensation would be enough of a distraction. More and more of the sugary lies were drooling between her thoughts and no matter how hard she tried to deny it, their siren call was growing steadily more difficult to ignore.
* * *
The captive heroine was making small, weak noises as she gave herself to the chemicals ranged against her. Unable to do more than twitch, she was still fighting to rock her hips against the cruelly tight crotchrope and the Confectioners equally inescapable fingers.
Those sounds tore at him, forcing the villain towards released far faster than he had expected. But those eager cries of helpless surrender were impossible to resist. She had fought and lost and, now, Geist could do nothing but enjoy the fruits of her submission.
Slave clasped her hands behind her and pressed into his throbbing erection. Her posture perfectly mimicked that of a bound slavegirl and the villain wished he had taken the time to lash her wrists in place.
She stared into his eyes, unflinchingly. Every fibre of her being urged him to take her, to use her slaveflesh for his pleasure and to treat her as nothing more than a mindless sexual toy.
Those thoughts flashed through his mind and the inexorable tide of sensations followed in their wake.
* * *
Time seemed to stretch, as slave searched for the traitorous thoughts. They were there somewhere, hidden amidst the layers of master’s control, growing ever weaker. But she couldn’t ignore master’s attentions, even if she had wanted to. The wet slap of flesh on flesh rang through her mind, while every thrust drove into her pliable slutbrain, sending showers of obedient arousal through her.
Her eyes found master’s and saw just how close he was. The thought thrilled her, and slave new her own reaction would be fuelled by master’s desire for her and the pleasures she could give. Then, as his body became taut, trembling with the need to hold on, she caught of glimpse of her other self.
She lashed out, desperate to drive away the last remnants of her old thoughts and, at that moment, master gave a long groaning sigh and simply exploded. In the split second before her answering orgasm, slave felt the other fade into nothingness, finally absorbed into master’s jelly.
Slave screamed out her delight, bathed in master’s essence, wrapped even more tightly beneath his blanket of pleasurable control. The last trace of her former self gone, and nothing or no one to save Geist from the same glorious fate.
To be continued…
There was something about breaking these heroines, something that went far beyond the thrill of subjugating his other victims. Even the most inexperienced could prove a challenge and, whereas the likes of WPC Griffiths would never be a threat to him, these costumed cuties were dangerous right up to the moment their minds finally collapsed under the strain of inexorable pleasure.
That was why he wasn’t going to take his eye off Geist for a moment. The girl could literally walk through walls and, even with all his resources ranged against her, the Confectioner didn’t intend to relax until the girl’s mind was leashed as tightly as her friend’s.
Oh the things he would do with these two. The depths of depravity to which he would sink. He could feel himself growing hard at the thought and the memory of slave’s tongue was enough to send a ripple of delight shivering through his body. Slave, in turn, seemed to sense his thoughts, whimpering softly from her position at his feet and the villain couldn’t help but tense in response.
* * *
Slave gazed up into her master’s face, feeding off the barely contained lust he radiated. Somewhere in the background, Geist’s urgent moans added their own erotic counterpoint and slave wondered if life ever got any better than this.
Master was here, as was her dearest friend. Both of them revelling in the thrill of absolute control. Dimly she could remember the touch of the Confectioner’s sweets, and the blissful certainty they had given her. The touch of his sugared skin, the feel of him coating her, playing across every fold. Crystals shivered in the darkness, stirring her tender nub with agonisingly sharp caresses.
She wanted to scream. But it felt too good. The raw heat of her desire was all consuming and before it, everything else simply melted.
* * *
Warm sap trickled through the deep valley between slave’s breasts, stirring the skin into sticky goosebumps. The syrup clung to the young woman, stretching and flowing as the villain reached for his possession. Thick tendrils wrapped around the sweet softness, pinching so tightly that the swollen globes began to darken almost immediately.
The villain claimed his prize, trapping her writhing flesh and forcing her to jerk and spasm. One hand caught and held her, while the other slithered against Geist’s paralysed muscles, linking the two heroines in a delightfully lurid chain of sensation.
Beneath his hands, both girls’ captive bodies seemed to buzz with sensual energy. He could almost feel the willpower leaking from the gagged heroine’s pores. Every passing moment meant another little piece of her mind faded away.
Very slowly the Confectioner eased himself closer to slave, while his fingers continued their obscene massage. His disgustingly fluid manhood pumped rhythmically against her cleavage, ploughing the tight furrow between her sloshing, slime-coated tits. Extending himself still further, the villain pressed into both victims, viscous caresses that plumbed and probed.
Slave lips brushed the very tip of his engorged penis, just a touch, a hot, wet kiss that coiled arousal around his core and threatened to overwhelm what little self-control remained.
* * *
In the cloying darkness, Ampere had given up trying to break free. The Confectioner’s hold on her was just too complete, too total and, even though she could hardly admit it, even to herself, it simply felt too good.
The villain tantalised with his compulsive taste, teasing every sluttish impulse with the promise of that darkly rich control. Even the knowledge of the fate awaiting both heroines became almost irrelevant in the face of that raw crystallised lust.
But she had always been a fighter and, even when things were at there most bleak, Ampere refused to give up hope. Perhaps if the Confectioner hadn’t threatened her friend, but with Geist’s freedom on the line as well, the heroine simply couldn’t afford to accept the mindless bliss he offered, no matter how much she might yearn to do so.
She knew there was something out there and her last fleeting touch had finally given Ampere the clue she needed in order to recognise the diffuse pinpoints of energy orbiting her usurped body.
Amorphous layers of control pressed into her mind, while the Confectioners cruel fingers slid over and into her pallid skin. Ampere let her power range outward, searching for those elusive signals. Her own cries echoed in the rapidly shrinking prison, adding more tethers to the increasingly tight harness in which her thoughts were secured.
* * *
For an instant, slave could feel something stir deep inside. But Master’s presence still held her in its thrall. His limbs oozed over her exposed skin, while he crushed his hardness into her cleavage, thrusting into the moist valley of her pert and perfect tits.
She knew what it was, she recognised the feel of her other self. Hating the taste of independence and loathing every non-goodgirlish thought. Slave tried to warn him, but all she could manage was to whimper piteously as master grimaced and the sweet reward grew ever closer.
* * *
Ampere’s gift sought out the floating, molecular cloud, isolating each microscopic entity and instilling it with a glittering fragment. One by one she programmed the errant nanites, building and binding them together into a frighteningly complex neural network.
Connections formed and sprouted, trading information across the growing web.
The heroine could feel her slaveself react, but there was no time for subtly. She could only press on and hope that the relentless press of sensation would be enough of a distraction. More and more of the sugary lies were drooling between her thoughts and no matter how hard she tried to deny it, their siren call was growing steadily more difficult to ignore.
* * *
The captive heroine was making small, weak noises as she gave herself to the chemicals ranged against her. Unable to do more than twitch, she was still fighting to rock her hips against the cruelly tight crotchrope and the Confectioners equally inescapable fingers.
Those sounds tore at him, forcing the villain towards released far faster than he had expected. But those eager cries of helpless surrender were impossible to resist. She had fought and lost and, now, Geist could do nothing but enjoy the fruits of her submission.
Slave clasped her hands behind her and pressed into his throbbing erection. Her posture perfectly mimicked that of a bound slavegirl and the villain wished he had taken the time to lash her wrists in place.
She stared into his eyes, unflinchingly. Every fibre of her being urged him to take her, to use her slaveflesh for his pleasure and to treat her as nothing more than a mindless sexual toy.
Those thoughts flashed through his mind and the inexorable tide of sensations followed in their wake.
* * *
Time seemed to stretch, as slave searched for the traitorous thoughts. They were there somewhere, hidden amidst the layers of master’s control, growing ever weaker. But she couldn’t ignore master’s attentions, even if she had wanted to. The wet slap of flesh on flesh rang through her mind, while every thrust drove into her pliable slutbrain, sending showers of obedient arousal through her.
Her eyes found master’s and saw just how close he was. The thought thrilled her, and slave new her own reaction would be fuelled by master’s desire for her and the pleasures she could give. Then, as his body became taut, trembling with the need to hold on, she caught of glimpse of her other self.
She lashed out, desperate to drive away the last remnants of her old thoughts and, at that moment, master gave a long groaning sigh and simply exploded. In the split second before her answering orgasm, slave felt the other fade into nothingness, finally absorbed into master’s jelly.
Slave screamed out her delight, bathed in master’s essence, wrapped even more tightly beneath his blanket of pleasurable control. The last trace of her former self gone, and nothing or no one to save Geist from the same glorious fate.
To be continued…
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Asymmetric Hugs
His breathing ragged, the villain clutched the processing couch in an attempt to keep his knees from buckling. Slave slumped forward, still gasping as her aftershocks finally began to lessen. She wrapped his slackening member in her breast’s sticky embrace and with growing surprise the Confectioner realised that she still wasn’t sated.
Carefully he extricated himself from her grip, gently easing free and placating her needy complaints with soft words and silken touches.
“You cannot be so greedy,” he told her with mock graveness. “Poor Geist has still to complete her journey, and even your sluttish needs must wait until your slavesister is properly prepared.”
“Yes, master,” slave answered, eyes downcast while her cheeks burnt with shame.
“Good girl,” the Confectioner enthused.
He rose slowly, tousling her stiff, tangled hair. Then the villain began to free Geist from her bonds. He moved confidently, every gesture swift and controlled. In moments she was free, though the melting candy gag was still bright behind the muzzling mask.
Tenderly, he lifted her from the couch, letting the dark liquids drip from her naked body. Then, he lowered her into the waiting chair, taking his time to position her, just so. Twin spouts slid effortlessly into the unconscious heroine’s body. They were already slick with gel, and Geist’s twin channels gave no resistance.
The Confectioner glanced at his slave, enjoying the look of adoration she gave him, while staring at the process in wrapt attention. Ever the showman, he made sure to fasten every strap to aching tightness, imprisoning the young woman so completely she had barely enough room to think, let alone move.
Only then, when he had eked out every sensuous moment, did he finally activate the machinery.
* * *
Slave stared, as master’s chair forced its coercive gel into her friend’s body. The memory of her own transformation was too vague, but watching stirred her in ways she found hard to understand. The cylinders had been her chrysalis, from which she emerged as the master’s perfect butterfly. But here, in the chair, was where it had all started.
Unconsciously her body moved into the correct posture. Back ramrod straight, head held high, legs spread. Slave’s hands rested lightly on her thighs, far enough from her cunt’s melting heat not to touch and yet close enough for it to remain a constant temptation.
She quivered in place, as Geist’s moaning began to climb once more, knowing, somehow, that her friend would find many false summits before her arousal finally peaked.
* * *
Hopelessly lost, for Geist there was nothing but light and fire. The gel swamped everything. It was remorseless and utterly inescapable. Wherever the foul mixture touched, pleasure took root. Building in intensity, growing sharper and more vivid with every passing moment.
It took what the heroine thought she knew and twisted it savagely. Smothering any half-hearted attempt at denial, the seeping corruption simply stole her thoughts and made them its own. A lifetime of servitude flashed through her mind in an instant and she accepted it all.
Obedience lit up her synapses, burning through every memory and leaving its impression scorched into the surface of her brain. She was branded with the truth of her slavery, an undeniable mark that added the certainty of proof to remodelled convictions.
The new slave came, as if for the first time. Finding an epiphany in the heat of that enforced surrender.
* * *
Finally, the seated woman’s eyes took on the same glow as her kneeling friend’s. Once again, the villain took his time releasing the straps. Then, he pulled her from the chair’s clutches, dragging her free amidst trailing strands of emerald slime. Gently, almost reverently, he laid her on the floor and turned his attention to slave.
“Climb on,” he instructed her.
Slave rose elegantly, and hoisted herself onto the gel-spattered chair. Gingerly she lowered her body onto the waiting devices. But they slipped home without effort, leaving her squirming in obvious delight.
“Master?” She wondered, but only once she was properly in place.
“Hush now,” he told her, smiling at how instinctively she obeyed. “You are my good girl and you deserve a reward. But first, you must ride the chair.”
“Yes, master,” she nodded meekly. “Thank you.”
The Confectioner’s reply was lost as the chair once again came alive. He rested one hand upon slave’s shoulder, holding her down against the building pressure. Slave, for her part, arched against the confining metal, grinding herself down onto the paired spigots.
He found himself in awe of her endurance. Even though he could see how each climax left slave a little more drained, still she kept going and, what’s more, she showed no sign of slowing.
In the end, he let her cum twice before lifting her from the chair and from her squeals it was obvious that hadn’t remotely satisfied her.
* * *
“Lie down beside your friend,” the villain told slave.
Eagerly she did so, letting their bodies meet in deliciously intimate collision. But, as she pressed her sugar-crusted breasts into the other girl’s spine, the villain sighed dramatically and corrected her.
“No,” he explained, shaking his head. “The other way round.”
Eventually, he arranged the former heroines to his satisfaction. Facing each other, but with slave’s head resting next to her friend’s feet and vice versa. They lay there, perfectly still and then slave felt the first strand bite into her heavily glazed flesh.
The Confectioner bound the pair together, drawing each binding strand almost painfully tight. Slowly, slave found herself becoming one half of a tangled sculpture of helpless girlflesh. Only when another strand was looped through her collar, did she understand master’s plan. He had promised her a reward and, as her face was pulled down into the waiting heat of her friend’s drooling cuntlips, slave gave him her muffled thanks.
* * *
With slave secured, the villain moved onto Geist. At some point he was going to have to decide on some slavenames for them both, but right now he had more pressing matters to attend to. First he unhooked the sleep mask and then he unbuckled the last remnants of the gobstopper gag. A thin plastic collar fitted neatly around the sleeping woman’s throat, and his final strand of trick liquorice tethered her face to slave’s oozing pussy.
* * *
Their mouths and noses pressed into each other, minds already filled with the jelly’s suffocating essence. Slave’s tongue was already lapping, eager to taste her friend’s musky flavours. Lime and spice mixed together, biting acid sweetness that left her wanting so much more.
Her lips closed around soft flesh, teeth teasing and biting. She nibbled, while more gel dribbled from her mouth.
* * *
Half conscious, mind still fogged with drugs and need, Geist’s tongue lolled randomly, sweeping over skin caked with salty sweetness. Jelly tingled against her lips, while slave’s perfume filled her nostrils and seeped upwards into her dazed slutbrain.
She was clumsy at first, but that didn’t matter. Every caress filled her mouth with swirling colours and all the while that impossibly agile tongue simply rolled over every fold and urged her on to even greater efforts.
* * *
The villain smiled as his slaves attacked each other with gusto. The jelly would keep them both docile and give him some much needed time to rest and recuperate. If he was lucky, they might even exhaust themselves, given time.
He paused at the door, blowing them one last kiss and then strolled to his control room. Breaking Ampere and her beautiful friend had left him feeling disgustingly pleased with himself. But there was still the small matter of his stolen toys and the villains who had tried to muscle in on his action.
Tempting though it was to retire and spend the rest of his days playing with his new supersluts, he simply had to teach these amateurs a lesson.
* * *
Meanwhile, the newborn slaves continued to lick and gnaw at each other. Each was consumed with need for the other. Master was first and always would be. But, in his absence, the slaves became one another’s world.
So lost in pleasure were they, that neither noticed as the air around them began to flicker. Lightning crackled silently, leaping from place to place in jerky flashes. Energy jumped in glowing lines and painted a webwork around them.
The display faded slowly, leaving nothing but the barest hint of ozone.
End of Arc Four
His breathing ragged, the villain clutched the processing couch in an attempt to keep his knees from buckling. Slave slumped forward, still gasping as her aftershocks finally began to lessen. She wrapped his slackening member in her breast’s sticky embrace and with growing surprise the Confectioner realised that she still wasn’t sated.
Carefully he extricated himself from her grip, gently easing free and placating her needy complaints with soft words and silken touches.
“You cannot be so greedy,” he told her with mock graveness. “Poor Geist has still to complete her journey, and even your sluttish needs must wait until your slavesister is properly prepared.”
“Yes, master,” slave answered, eyes downcast while her cheeks burnt with shame.
“Good girl,” the Confectioner enthused.
He rose slowly, tousling her stiff, tangled hair. Then the villain began to free Geist from her bonds. He moved confidently, every gesture swift and controlled. In moments she was free, though the melting candy gag was still bright behind the muzzling mask.
Tenderly, he lifted her from the couch, letting the dark liquids drip from her naked body. Then, he lowered her into the waiting chair, taking his time to position her, just so. Twin spouts slid effortlessly into the unconscious heroine’s body. They were already slick with gel, and Geist’s twin channels gave no resistance.
The Confectioner glanced at his slave, enjoying the look of adoration she gave him, while staring at the process in wrapt attention. Ever the showman, he made sure to fasten every strap to aching tightness, imprisoning the young woman so completely she had barely enough room to think, let alone move.
Only then, when he had eked out every sensuous moment, did he finally activate the machinery.
* * *
Slave stared, as master’s chair forced its coercive gel into her friend’s body. The memory of her own transformation was too vague, but watching stirred her in ways she found hard to understand. The cylinders had been her chrysalis, from which she emerged as the master’s perfect butterfly. But here, in the chair, was where it had all started.
Unconsciously her body moved into the correct posture. Back ramrod straight, head held high, legs spread. Slave’s hands rested lightly on her thighs, far enough from her cunt’s melting heat not to touch and yet close enough for it to remain a constant temptation.
She quivered in place, as Geist’s moaning began to climb once more, knowing, somehow, that her friend would find many false summits before her arousal finally peaked.
* * *
Hopelessly lost, for Geist there was nothing but light and fire. The gel swamped everything. It was remorseless and utterly inescapable. Wherever the foul mixture touched, pleasure took root. Building in intensity, growing sharper and more vivid with every passing moment.
It took what the heroine thought she knew and twisted it savagely. Smothering any half-hearted attempt at denial, the seeping corruption simply stole her thoughts and made them its own. A lifetime of servitude flashed through her mind in an instant and she accepted it all.
Obedience lit up her synapses, burning through every memory and leaving its impression scorched into the surface of her brain. She was branded with the truth of her slavery, an undeniable mark that added the certainty of proof to remodelled convictions.
The new slave came, as if for the first time. Finding an epiphany in the heat of that enforced surrender.
* * *
Finally, the seated woman’s eyes took on the same glow as her kneeling friend’s. Once again, the villain took his time releasing the straps. Then, he pulled her from the chair’s clutches, dragging her free amidst trailing strands of emerald slime. Gently, almost reverently, he laid her on the floor and turned his attention to slave.
“Climb on,” he instructed her.
Slave rose elegantly, and hoisted herself onto the gel-spattered chair. Gingerly she lowered her body onto the waiting devices. But they slipped home without effort, leaving her squirming in obvious delight.
“Master?” She wondered, but only once she was properly in place.
“Hush now,” he told her, smiling at how instinctively she obeyed. “You are my good girl and you deserve a reward. But first, you must ride the chair.”
“Yes, master,” she nodded meekly. “Thank you.”
The Confectioner’s reply was lost as the chair once again came alive. He rested one hand upon slave’s shoulder, holding her down against the building pressure. Slave, for her part, arched against the confining metal, grinding herself down onto the paired spigots.
He found himself in awe of her endurance. Even though he could see how each climax left slave a little more drained, still she kept going and, what’s more, she showed no sign of slowing.
In the end, he let her cum twice before lifting her from the chair and from her squeals it was obvious that hadn’t remotely satisfied her.
* * *
“Lie down beside your friend,” the villain told slave.
Eagerly she did so, letting their bodies meet in deliciously intimate collision. But, as she pressed her sugar-crusted breasts into the other girl’s spine, the villain sighed dramatically and corrected her.
“No,” he explained, shaking his head. “The other way round.”
Eventually, he arranged the former heroines to his satisfaction. Facing each other, but with slave’s head resting next to her friend’s feet and vice versa. They lay there, perfectly still and then slave felt the first strand bite into her heavily glazed flesh.
The Confectioner bound the pair together, drawing each binding strand almost painfully tight. Slowly, slave found herself becoming one half of a tangled sculpture of helpless girlflesh. Only when another strand was looped through her collar, did she understand master’s plan. He had promised her a reward and, as her face was pulled down into the waiting heat of her friend’s drooling cuntlips, slave gave him her muffled thanks.
* * *
With slave secured, the villain moved onto Geist. At some point he was going to have to decide on some slavenames for them both, but right now he had more pressing matters to attend to. First he unhooked the sleep mask and then he unbuckled the last remnants of the gobstopper gag. A thin plastic collar fitted neatly around the sleeping woman’s throat, and his final strand of trick liquorice tethered her face to slave’s oozing pussy.
* * *
Their mouths and noses pressed into each other, minds already filled with the jelly’s suffocating essence. Slave’s tongue was already lapping, eager to taste her friend’s musky flavours. Lime and spice mixed together, biting acid sweetness that left her wanting so much more.
Her lips closed around soft flesh, teeth teasing and biting. She nibbled, while more gel dribbled from her mouth.
* * *
Half conscious, mind still fogged with drugs and need, Geist’s tongue lolled randomly, sweeping over skin caked with salty sweetness. Jelly tingled against her lips, while slave’s perfume filled her nostrils and seeped upwards into her dazed slutbrain.
She was clumsy at first, but that didn’t matter. Every caress filled her mouth with swirling colours and all the while that impossibly agile tongue simply rolled over every fold and urged her on to even greater efforts.
* * *
The villain smiled as his slaves attacked each other with gusto. The jelly would keep them both docile and give him some much needed time to rest and recuperate. If he was lucky, they might even exhaust themselves, given time.
He paused at the door, blowing them one last kiss and then strolled to his control room. Breaking Ampere and her beautiful friend had left him feeling disgustingly pleased with himself. But there was still the small matter of his stolen toys and the villains who had tried to muscle in on his action.
Tempting though it was to retire and spend the rest of his days playing with his new supersluts, he simply had to teach these amateurs a lesson.
* * *
Meanwhile, the newborn slaves continued to lick and gnaw at each other. Each was consumed with need for the other. Master was first and always would be. But, in his absence, the slaves became one another’s world.
So lost in pleasure were they, that neither noticed as the air around them began to flicker. Lightning crackled silently, leaping from place to place in jerky flashes. Energy jumped in glowing lines and painted a webwork around them.
The display faded slowly, leaving nothing but the barest hint of ozone.
End of Arc Four
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Freakin Awesome, as always! Your combination of clever plot lines and incredible detail never ceases to thrill.
Thanks again for your wonderful contributions
PS - I don't think The Confectioner should have left them alone!
Thanks again for your wonderful contributions
PS - I don't think The Confectioner should have left them alone!
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Thank you 
Glad you've enjoyed the latest arc - and, "no comment" about the wiseness of leaving the girls alone...
Glad you've enjoyed the latest arc - and, "no comment" about the wiseness of leaving the girls alone...
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batgirl1969
- Millenium Member
- Posts: 2527
- Joined: 17 years ago
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
This is delicious...I am delirious just reading it....btw..I have a charms fruity blowpop in mouth at the same time I am reading...it brings me further into the story and details!
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Huge 'thank yous' for the kind comments... and I absolutely *love* the fact that 'charms fruity blowpops' are being used to help really get into the story. 
I've started work on Arc Five... so if anyone has any sweet-based perils they'd like to see, please don't be shy about sharing.
I've started work on Arc Five... so if anyone has any sweet-based perils they'd like to see, please don't be shy about sharing.
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batgirl1969
- Millenium Member
- Posts: 2527
- Joined: 17 years ago
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Sweet! I have a special place in my heart for charms blowpops now, its like my special secret and when I see my other girlfriends with them in their mouths it is very erotic to me. They have become like little magic wands in my hands....the fun awaits!
As far as peril what about a taffy puller or some type of candy cane impaler.
As far as peril what about a taffy puller or some type of candy cane impaler.
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Such a "SWEET" story... I enjoyed it very much. As far as other confections, well all I can think of that may be missing is a cotton candy cocoon of sorts
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batgirl1969
- Millenium Member
- Posts: 2527
- Joined: 17 years ago
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
Oh yes...this is such an awesome story as I was reading it again I had the same effect but stronger. They need a huge candy ballgag called "the jawbreaker" then a candy ball that is on strings like beads...it would be the "ever lasting gobstopper/muscle ring popper"..a nice strand that is secured inside the girls ...special place! I love how the jelly is inserted..like jelly injected into a pastry! A candy cane dildo has to be in store for someone...maybe me if spencer in the mall gets them in again this christmas! Lol.
I just wanted to say you have a great mind for this..very awesome story!
Thankxxx
Tina
I just wanted to say you have a great mind for this..very awesome story!
Thankxxx
Tina
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Zara of Armestia
- Neophyte Lvl 3
- Posts: 29
- Joined: 16 years ago
Re: The Return of the Confectioner
OMG! This was such an awesome story! =D> I just joined after coming across this site while searching about helpless mind controlled/drugged heroines! Now I have created my own superheroine to join in the fun and I will post the details of Zara from the planet Armestia soon in a story post. Hopefully, I can write some episodes about her that will make others like me "purrrrr" like this story made me "purrrrrrrrrr"! :-D Then maybe when I post her stats and her beginning some of you fantastic writers will share your fantasies of what should happen to me, I mean her! :-D
"Kryptonite? Oh, oh no, please!!! ........you have no idea what that does to me!"