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From: Spoonbender <Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk>
Subject: The Candy Bar (nc, bd, humiliation)
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The Candy Bar (nc, bd, humiliation)

****************************************************************

This story was written especially for an extremely talented lady
writer, to try to encourage her to put her deliciously erotic mind to
work again. I'd like to thank her for sharing her fantasy with me. It
is copyright (c)1998  by me, Theodore Spoonbender and all rights are
reserved. It may be freely copied and transmitted as long as it is not
changed in any way. If it is archived then it is on the basis that I
have unrestricted access to that archive.

The story contains scenes of bondage, humiliation and nc sex, with a
hint of sexual slavery thrown in for good measure.  If you don't like
this sort of thing then don't read it. Simple n'est pas?

Please feel free to email me if you have any comments or constructive
criticisms. I really enjoy feedback. My address is
Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk. Ok, enough of the bull, on with the
story.

******************************************************************

Polly pushed a stray lock of her hair under her beret. She felt
awfully frowsty and wished she had at least washed her hair before she
had to dash out to organise the shopping for Danny's visit this
evening. She'd been scooting round all day, dashing here, rushing
there. She wanted it to be perfect for him and the kids. Why was it
that her men always had to come completely equipped with a whole
trainload of emotional baggage? Danny was no different. The detritus
of his past stretched behind him, on the highway of his life, like the
contents of a badly secured 'u-haul'. Not only that, but he had
managed to take time out to father two kids. A boy and a girl. Four
and five. They lived with their mother, but Danny had visiting rights
and today, was one of his 'bonding' days, as he put it. 

She had had very little to do with children. If the truth be told she
kept well out of the way of them. Anarchic, dirty, noisy and demanding
they didn't fit in with her lifestyle one little bit. But she'd try
her best for Danny's sake. Hence the shopping dash.

So she was considerably irritated to find the supermarket aisle
blocked by a group of people watching the pitch of a sales promoter.
It was some sort of candy bar.  She couldn't see exactly what, and she
cared even less, as she tried to nudge her way through the throng.

"....there's one lady that looks like she should take time out and
relax with one of our Reverie-bars."

Polly noticed the people in the aisle looking at her and she realised
that she was the centre of the Salesman's repartee.

Flushing furiously, in anger more than anything, she attempted to push
her trolley harder against the legs of the milling crowd.

"Here." Proffered the salesman who had jumped down from his small dais
and was offering her a garishly packaged candy bar. "Try this."

"No thank you." She said tartly.

"Its free!"

"I don't care." Then she noticed the looks on the faces of the other
shoppers. She was acting like a little churlishly, she reasoned. After
all it was just a chocolate bar.

So when he said, "Are you sure?", she assented to try it.

She felt very self conscious as she unpeeled the wrapper and feigned
not to notice the smirk on the face of a sweating fatman in the crowd
as her lips closed around the bar. After she popped the last morsel in
her mouth the crowd magically parted before her and she continued
towards the check out lines. Imagining the stares of the crowd on her
back as the salesman again started his patter.

She packed her bags in the trunk and went to start the car. Her head
started swimming and she was finding it more and more difficult to
concentrate. What on earth was wrong? It felt like the effects of low
blood sugar, she hadn't had time to eat yet today, but then she'd just
had a candy bar. Maybe it would take time for the sucrose to kick in.

She shook her head but it just made her dizzier. Just before she
passed out the door flew open and the Chocolate salesman was there,
pushing her into the passenger seat of her car. She tried to protest,
to resist, but her muscles wouldn't function and her world dissolved
into darkness.

********************************************************

The darkness slowly gave way to light. A flickering light, that danced
before her eyes. She tried to move her body from out of its
uncomfortable position. She panicked as she found she was unable to
move her limbs. Fighting the enveloping mist, tendrils of which still
whisped ethereally, through her head, she tried to look around. But
soon realised that her head had been pushed through some kind of
padded hole which had been closed around her neck, imprisoning her in
its unyielding embrace. Her hands, which fluttered uselessly each side
of her head, were similarly bound. She was naked and goosebumps sprang
up all over her body in response to the dank chill of the stone clad
room.

Fighting down her rising fear, she tried to take stock of her
situation. How had she got here? Who had undressed her?  The
unanswered questions tumbled through her befuddled mind. She blushed
at the thought of unknown, and unseen, assailants stripping away her
clothes. An irrational thought flew through her head, had she
remembered to wear clean underwear? But it disappeared, just as
quickly, to be replaced by the chilling certainty that she was being
held prisoner and she was helpless to prevent whatever fate they had
in store for her.

The flickering was annoying her, but it was all pervasive, sitting, as
it was,  in the epicentre of her gaze. It was a television. It could
have been a computer monitor of course but she'd never seen one that
size before. It dominated her vision, impinging on her consciousness
to the exclusion of all else. The centre of the screen was taken up by
a slightly sideways view of a pair of buttocks. She twitched her left
cheek in response to the cold and she realised, with a start, that it
was her backside she was looking at. Again she clenched her butt only
to have it echoed, faithfully on the screen. Her fear now took wings.
This was so perverted, being made to stare at her own butt like this.
She could see her pussy, a fuzzy framed, vertical gash bisecting her
body. It looked so gross, so obscene. She tried to look away, to close
her eyes, anything to take her mind off the vision in front of her.
But it was no good and it was with a curious blend of intrigue and
loathing that she again found herself studying her nether regions.

She'd never really seen her pussy before. Certainly not from this
angle. It was not, to her mind, a beautiful thing. But it was, she
acknowledged, a marvel of functionality and purpose. The extreme angle
of her legs made sure that her outer lips had been pulled,
unceremonially  apart, leaving her inner lips bare and defenceless.
She studied them, more to take her mind of her future, than anything
else. It still seemed vaguely dirty somehow, studying her own
genitalia, but fascinating all the same. It was like sneaking a look
at yourself in the mirror in an elevator. Impossible to resist, but
mildly embarrassing all the same.

She had never realised how small it actually was, at rest as it were.
She was surprised, flattered even, that this tiny little hole was able
to accommodate Danny's particularly large organ so pleasurably. Her
clitoris was buried between the fluted lips that looked like the pale,
pink, petals of a sea anemone. But she could make out the shape of it
pushing against her folds like it was questing for the touch of a male
finger, or organ, or..... She shuddered. She couldn't let herself get
aroused. That would be so gut wrenchingly shameful. To watch herself
moisten and open in front of her own humiliated gaze. 

'Try to think of something else.' She told herself. Then she
remembered Danny. How long had she been here? He'd be frantic. She
hoped he'd called the Police. Maybe they were on their way now. A
futile hope, but one that helped buoy her spirits. The party was
ruined that's for sure, but at least she wouldn't have to put up with
Danny's brats. Be thankful for small mercies.

She cut her mind free and let it float. To try and distance herself
from the immediate which was pressing down on her like bands of iron
around her chest. She thought of Danny. Strong, handsome, resolute
Danny. The thrust of his chin, the warmth and depth of his dark brown
eyes, the insistent hardness of his body. God that man was beautiful.
She had been looking forward all week to her night of passion with
him. They didn't get together much, he was always jetting around
visiting parts of his far flung global empire. Sometimes she wondered
if he had a cache of girls like her, one in each city. Six in all, she
reasoned, because even he would need one day of rest a week, surely.
She knew it was irrational but it was part of her genetic makeup and,
although she considered herself to be a thoroughly modern woman, she
couldn't help but feel slight twinges of uncertainty at his prolonged
absences. She had never pegged herself as the green eyed envious type,
before she'd met him. She was a professional woman, steely in her
focus. So she had never even considered letting down her shields to
admit a man within the bastion of her inner self before. Not that she
was a prude. She liked sex as much as the next woman and she revelled
in her mastery in the bedroom and the soaring freedom of her
pleasures.  But it was usually on a casual basis. A quick fling to
quell the beast of her desire, which was then safely tamed and thrust
back into its cage. Until the next time.

Danny had changed all that. He was a marvellous lover. Sometimes hot
and passionate, insatiable in his lust. Other times he was gentle and
teasing, causing her to float into uncharted galaxies of pleasure. She
smiled, despite the seriousness of her situation as she remembered the
last time. He was so powerful, so unstoppable, so.......

Her eyes flew open in dismay. She was doing exactly was she promised
herself she would not do and, as if to emphasise the point, she saw
her lips engorging and opening in moist surrender. Oh god no! Her
humiliation made her shudder, but her body ignored her mind as she
watched herself unfold delicately, like a flower greeting the dawn
sun.

She felt a slight flutter on her body, like a mild zephyr, then the
screen defocused suddenly as something intruded onto her vision.
Simultaneously she felt, and saw, a hand. Undoubtedly a male hand,
gently caressing her left cheek.

"Let me go you bastard." She shouted, but the hand kept its own
counsel, contenting itself with a constant rubbing and fondling of her
bottom. She tried to turn to see him, but the stocks were too high,
she could see nothing behind her, except that which her captors had
deemed to allow her to.

The hand became more purposeful and creative. Now the fingers delved
into the crease of her privates. Rubbing up and down, tracing a path
around the tight brown star of her anus, before sinking boggily into
the soft wet morass of her gash. She moaned, as much in shame as
arousal, as he inserted his finger inside her. She could see his digit
sink deeply within her, with her body offering no resistance to its
rigid insistence. 

He pumped in and out a few times, twisting his finger to reach
unexplored parts of her vagina and she felt her lust start to
increase. Just as she was starting to climb the long slippery slope
towards her climax it withdrew and contented itself with gently
rubbing her bud. Normally she loved having her clit played with, she
did it herself often enough, but this was so perverse it nearly made
her want to throw up. But still her arousal grew. Now she could see
her wetness on his finger and the shine of her juices that were
forming onto the entrance of her pussy. It gaped like a deep, dark
cavern in front of her horrified eyes, as the hand conquered her.

Then, just as suddenly as it appeared it was gone. She heard faint
footsteps in the room and the metallic grating of a lock being turned.

She was left alone with her self loathing and her unabated lust.

*************************************************************

They kept doing that for hours. By now she realised that there were
more than one captor, there was even a female. They came in and
silently teased her, playing purposefully and unheedingly with her
lower body until the forest of her resolve gave way to the foothills
of her climax. Then they left, invariably leaving her sobbing in a
stew of sexual passion and unrelenting shame.

At first the horror of potential rape clouded her mind. She was
kneeling defencelessly, with her legs bound wide on some kind of
padded bench, with her pussy at the perfect height for comfortable
penetration. At least from an assailants viewpoint. 

With each successive fondling, however, her fears started to give way
to unwanted feelings of longing. Her body screamed out for release.
She looked over at her pussy, blood red and glistening, a beacon
drawing her eye to the centre of the screen. In her mind it beckoned.
Take me, enter me, thrust deeply within me, but please, please fulfil
me. She could see inside herself, at the wet pulsing walls of her
womanhood as it sought solace in the satisfying rigidity of a rampant
cock.

But it was not to be. 

The teasing went on. 

Unrelentingly.

While she craved release from the prison of her arousal.

There was to be no release.

********************************************************

"Please let me up. I must pee." She moaned as the finger again
diddled. It stopped and withdrew. Then a large white object was placed
behind her. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the new depth of
field but then she realised, to her horror, that it was a bucket. He
was expecting her to urinate in a bucket, in front of her own eyes.

She couldn't, she just couldn't, it was so perverse!

The bucket was twisted slightly, as if to say get on with it. Still
she couldn't.

The bucket disappeared and the hand again intruded on her sex. Again
her desire multiplied factorially.

She succumbed finally. 

She had to go. The pressure on her bladder was too great.

She pleaded for the bucket and was reassured when its clean, white
plastic shape again materialised on the screen.

Her pee spurted in a golden arc from her body, splattering noisily
inside the bucket.

The pleasure of her release gave way to the renewed pleasure of
arousal as the finger returned.

***********************************************************

She had lost count of the number of times that she had been molested
as she hung miserably in her bondage. Her whole being was now focussed
between her legs and the urgency that pervaded her body.

The crack of the paddle startled her. Then the pain traumatised her
nervous system, overwhelming her with its fiery heat.

"Yeeeeeeow!" She cried.

She could see the angry red stripe across her asscheeks, in harsh
counterpoint to the paleness of her skin.

CRACK!

"Yeooooow!"

And so it went on.

**************************************************************

If anything the aftermath of her paddlings increased her libido until
she felt she was losing her mind. Her ass, empurpled and sore looking,
gazed mockingly at her from the screen. And her pussy gaped wantonly.

She'd do anything, give herself willingly. Make any concession, trade
any favour, just to be released from her sexual prison. 

She wanted to be fucked! Crude, bestial, primeval. Slam it into her.
Take her forcibly, roughly. Pound away at her, plunder her. Plumb her
depths. Force her open. Use her as a cumbucket. Take her like a slut.
They could do what they wanted.

Just so long as they fucked her.

Please.

***************************************************************

The dildos came next. Huge rubber intrusions, heavily veined and
wickedly curved.

Pumping inside her. Drawing her higher, playing on her jangling
nerves, as she strained for release.

But they knew.

They always knew.

And release was denied to her.

***************************************************************

She moaned as the vibrator pulsed inside her. 

It must have been hours, may even have been days, that she had tried
to cope with its unyielding presence within her.

Ten seconds on, thirty seconds off. She counted the "Mississippis"
until her next bout of teasing buzzing. Hoping against hope that she
would be able to climb the Olympian heights towards her blessed
relief.

But it was not to be.

****************************************************************

The end came, like in most drawn out affairs, with a bit of a shock.

She had long given up any thoughts of getting satisfaction. Now she
hung limply in her bonds, her ass a mass of purple weals, her pussy
grasping the embedded vibrator like a talisman.

Her self assurance had long gone. Blown away like chaff in the midst
of her need.

She was no longer Polly the go ahead career girl. Now she was Polly
the cunt, begging for fulfilment.

Her focus was shot, her icy resolve had deserted her.

Now she moaned in hopelessness as the vibrator was withdrawn.

......To be replaced by a cock.

Suddenly her world came alive as she struggled to come to terms with
it.

It was true! A glorious, glorious truth.

She watched the cock pushing inside her. Then, with no hesitation, it
started pumping.

Harder and harder, a pink blur in front of her defocused eyes.

The power of his thrusts took over her whole being as her dam of her
lust broke at last and the tsunami burst over her in waves of almost
inhuman pleasure, as she experienced the first of a series of
shattering orgasms.

Again and again it pounded. Never pausing, never ceasing. A perfect
precision instrument. Sending her soaring into paradoxisms of  lust as
each successive orgasm sent her spinning higher and higher.

Finally, with one superhuman lunge, the cock rammed inside her and
released. She could feel the waves of sperm splashing inside her
seeking out every cranny in her spasming cunt. It pushed her over the
edge into her most violent, and overwhelming, orgasm ever. 

After a slight pause she heard, dimly through her post coital haze,
the sound of locks being undone and suddenly she was free to move her
head for the first time in hours.

She didn't have the strength to get up but hung limply in the stocks.
Shattered by the power of her release.

Suddenly someone knelt before her, squatting lightly on his heels.

It was Danny.

"Hi Pol." He said as casually as if he had met her in the street.

"Ooh Danny." She murmured softly.

"Enjoy it?"

"What?" She croaked.

"My little game. The kids couldn't come yesterday so I arranged for a
little game for you. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

"Game? All this was a game?" A mere whisper.

"Sure it was. You didn't think it was real did you? Silly girl." He
paused for a second. "By the way what did you think of the chocolate?
I've just started making it, do you think it will catch on?"

*************************************************************

Ladies. Email me if you want your fantasy written up.

Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk

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