The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Warren let out a low whistle through his teeth. Ten dollars for a two-pound pack of Smarties? What was the season coming to?

It was the day before Halloween, and all through the mall flew the bright, gaudy streamers and skeletons of fall. There were plastic gravestones, green witches’ masks, inflatable spiders the size of trucks, and, of course, candy. A hell of a lot of candy.

Warren was drowning in it right now. He’d promised Alicia he’d get enough to last the night, but he also knew for a fact that his fiance’s home, inherited from her grandmother, was right in the thick of the trick-or-treat maelstrom. And Warren didn’t have a job right now. What he did have was seven dollars in his pocket and a 50%—off coupon for purchases over ten dollars.

He picked up the pack of Smarties, sighing. He’d grab a Reese’s Pieces bag or something on the way out.

If he could make it out. The mall was cramped tighter than a peanut in an M&M right now.

Warren edged his way around a mother with five children all arguing over who would get to ride in the cart, nimbly ducked a massive “witch-burning stake” being hefted by a pair of brawny men shepherding their daughter towards the exit, and barely avoided running headlong into a trio of teens arguing over what Aaron Burr’s favorite candy would have been.

Warren paused at this. Aaron Burr? Wasn’t that the guy who shot the... the guy? He grimaced, cognizant of how little of history class he’d actually retained. He was pretty sure he’d actually been taught more about the Whiskey Rebellion than the actual foundation of the United States.

Seriously, he thought, sidling into a relatively empty aisle to skirt around the crowd, when I finally get my teacher’s license, I’m gonna dedicate a whole section to that stuff. The important stuff. As soon as I can get back to classes.

Warren had not attended a class in four years. He had, however, held eleven separate jobs within that time frame—three at once, at some points. He preferred to see himself as ‘street-smart’, which would have made him feel better if he wasn’t such a terrible driver.

“Lost your way?” asked a high-pitched voice.

Warren turned, blinking.

The speaker was a young woman—maybe in her early twenties, at most, with long, wavy hot pink hair. She seemed to be going with a strong “candy” theme—she wore a store employee nametag reading “Candi”, a colorful, tight-fighting lacy corset, and a fuzzy red headband bearing two candy corn horns.

He noticed a plastic devil’s tail attached primly to her incredibly short skirt, and boggled. Did they really allow store employees to dress like that? Her breasts were simply massive—practically bursting out of the corset—and appeared flushed. Or was that makeup?

The “candy” theme was really strong. The “Devil” theme, maybe not so much. Since when did Satan care about confectionaries?

“Um, sir?” The woman giggled, causing his eyes to shoot up to meet hers.

He realized, to his horror, that he’d been staring straight at her. Mentally undressing her. Plain for everyone to see. What was wrong with him?

Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind. She idly twirled a spiral sticky-pop between her fingers as she looked him over, a vapid smile on her cute, heart-shaped face. Did she even realize he’d been ogling her?

“Um, no,” he said, with a nervous laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck. “N-no, no thanks, miss. I’m fine. Just trying to... to, um...” He looked around, brows furrowing as he registered that he actually had no idea where he was in this store.

Warren rubbed his eyes. Had he wandered? He’d never even seen this part of the mall before. The lights here were dim and flickering, clearly in need of maintenance. Their uneven glow made his eyes hurt a little.

He looked around, blushing bright red as he realized he’d wandered into an aisle of scandalous ladies’ lingerie. He hadn’t even known BourgeCo sold this sort of thing, and now here he was, ogling the employee who’d caught him here!

He turned, and he could at least see the place he’d just left—those two men with the stake were pretty distinctive—but it was practically on the other end of the store. He bit his lip.

He had no idea how to get back there. Embarrassing as all this was, the place was like a maze, especially this time of year. He didn’t even know how he’d gotten here to begin with. How long would he spend wandering around? Damn it, he didn’t have time!

“Um, y-yes, actually,” he said, averting his gaze from the products lining the walls and draped over mannequins—all unusually curvaceous figures draped with blonde, red and pink wigs. Their poses were unusually evocative, too. One buxom mannequin was bent over, while another seemed to have her finger to her lips, in the cliché pose of a bimbo thinking something over...

He realized he was not averting his gaze at all and tore his eyes back to Candi, who just blinked at him unknowingly. “Yes,” he repeated. “A... a little lost, I guess.”

“It’s super easy to get lost in the mall,” Candi said, giving an easy shrug. “Like, I get lost all the time! Want me to help you back to the exit?” She licked her sticky-pop, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.” Warren grimaced. “Kinda. Sorry to be a bother.”

She gave him a little coquettish curtsy. “Okay! Let Candi lead the way!” And before he could respond, she grabbed his hand and took off, half-skipping, down the aisles—straight away from the cashiers.

“W-wait!” he cried, disoriented. He rubbed his eyes as he hurried to keep up. Those flickering lights were really disorienting. “But the—” He turned around, but realized he could no longer see the cashiers as they rounded a corner. “The, um...”

He heard Candi giggle as they came to a stop. “Ooh, yummy!”

He turned back to her and saw that they were now on the fringes of the shadowy part of the mall. She smiled up at him. Her eyes were a brilliant pink—were those contacts?

She pointed up, and he realized they’d arrived in a candy aisle. “I almost forgot!” she squeaked. “I’m s’posed to, um, help guys find candy for Halloween!”

“But I—” Warren flinched as the lights flickered particularly strongly for a moment. Candi seemed to thrust her chest out slightly, as if terribly excited to hear what he was about to say. Gods, that corset barely held her in. Her chest heaved with every breath, as though at any moment, the lacings might snap, sending it all... bursting loose.

Her lips parted slightly. Warren stared at her, lost in wonder. He hadn’t noticed until now how very... plump those pink lips of hers were. He could barely tell they were painted. Her makeup was flawless.

She reached up, smiling at him, and plucked something from the shelves. He realized it was a candy cane—orange and white, of course, to make it ‘Halloweeny’. “It’s really, really important,” she breathed. “Like, Lucy—she’s, like, the manager—the manager said if we don’t each get at least a hundred sales before Hallow’s Eve, we’ll be in soooo much trouble.” She bit her lip. “Please? Just a taste?”

Despite his most heroic efforts, Warren’s eyes kept drifting down to her chest. For a moment, he imagined laying his head down into her soft canyons and savoring that strange sugary scent that surrounded her.

What is wrong with me? he thought, struggling in vain to tear her eyes away. I’m engaged! Get a goddamn grip! But still her breasts drew him, distracted him. He needed to hurry this along. Give Candi what she wanted so she would hurry up and guide him out of this place. Give Candi what she wanted.

“S-sure,” he whispered, realizing Candi was still waiting on an answer. After all, what the hell? He still needed one more purchase to make the coupon work. “You got it. What... what is there?”

He was having trouble focusing on his words, not least because of the high-pitched squeal of delight she gave when he said ‘sure’. She eagerly took his hand, pressed the candy cane into it, and gave a little bounce. “Yay! Thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

“N-no problem.” He laughed nervously. “Okay, so, um... is this a free sample?”

“Huh?” She blinked. “Uh... oh!” She giggled. “I’m such a ditz! Yeah, totally! First one’s free!” She giggled again. “See if you like it.”

“Okay.” Warren absently started fiddling with the plastic, trying to open it with his bare hands. He bit his lip. His fingers kept fumbling. Candi’s breasts were still settling after that little hop—they couldn’t be real, not possibly—and he couldn’t concentrate to save his life.

His face went red as he continued to fumble. What was this, military-grade hardened plastic wrap? He knew he was making a fool of himself in front of an attractive store employee, but he just couldn’t seem to...

“Oh, no!” Candi gave a sad little laugh. “Silly! Let me help!” And without asking permission, she reached over, took his hands into hers, and started guiding his fingers like he was a child.

In the process, she moved a little closer, and now her breasts were just a foot away from him. He stared at them, spellbound, as she murmured advice. “See, these wrappers are super hard,” she cooed. “Really hard at first! But that just makes it more fun when you finally break them.” She looked up into his eyes, beaming. “’Cause then you get the yummy candy inside! Hee! So...”

She paused, checking his pulse. Warren was amazed at her familiarity, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her heaving breasts. The sugary vanilla smell was stronger now, and his head felt light and fluttery. He was dehydrated, no doubt.

Still, being this close to Candi was giving him all sorts of... thoughts. He really hoped she didn’t notice his trouser tent.

“Aw, your heart’s racing!” She tsked. “Why’s it racing like that? Did I go too fast for you?”

“Um...”

“You need to relaaaax” she whispered soothingly, rubbing his arms, feeling his muscles within her soft, slender hands. “You’re so tense! Here, just breathe with me.”

“But...” Warren felt horribly off-balance, both from wooziness and because he didn’t understand what was going on. Why couldn’t he look away from her breasts? Why did he feel so... so...

“Breathe iiiin.” And Candi breathed in. Her chest rose up. He breathed in reflexively, and the vanilla-scented perfume she was apparently wearing made his head buzz pleasantly. “And out.” She breathed out. Her chest lowered. He breathed out. “Good boy! And again...”

Every time Warren breathed in, he felt a little more relaxed, a little more lightheaded. Every time he breathed out, it felt like he was expelling a little grain of stress.

Candi held him there like that for a while, helping him relax his whole body. After what felt like at least five minutes, she guided his now very pliant fingers to break the plastic. By now, his head was quite fuzzy and warm.

She squealed with delight when they finally succeeded. Beaming, she took the candy cane and, again without waiting for permission, popped it right into his mouth as he breathed in. “See?” she squeaked. She didn’t release his hands. “Isn’t that yummy?”

“Mm.” He blinked. “Mm...”

He sucked gently at the candy, glancing only briefly at the wrapper—“Peckermint Candy Canes”? Well, that couldn’t be right.

She smiled up at him, seeming totally happy. He stared down at her breasts, eyelids drooping, as an expression of vacant happiness filled his features. The confusion drained away from him, replaced by a contented sort of empty bliss.

This candy was good. Really good. Minty and sweet, but with a strange flavor he couldn’t quite place—it made him feel syrupy and gooey inside, like the first time he’d... he’d...

He blinked.

The lights were back on. He was in an aisle of ordinary candies, clutching a bag of smarties and a small package of peppermint candy canes. He’d almost finished his stick.

In the distance, he saw Candi skipping off, her devil tail bouncing with every move she made. Internally, he wished he could see the front of her, knowing now how her chest would be moving with every skip. He bit his lip. Shit.

He had to wait a full minute for his erection to die down before he dared show his face at the cashiers. As he bought his candy and headed towards the exit, he noticed another clerk walking by—this one not in any costume. She was facing away from him.

“Hey,” he said, smiling politely, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“What’s with the costumes?” He walked around into her field of view. “One of your coworkers was wearing one, and... um...”

He stared.

The clerk was a young lady, maybe twenty or so, with sleek black hair done up in a ponytail. Her dark eyes were staring dreamily off into empty space. She seemed barely aware of his presence.

The clerk was sucking hungrily on an orange-and-white candy cane.

“Miss?” he asked, barely stopping himself from waving his hand in front of her face.

“Mm...” Ignoring him, her eyes slowly drifted half-closed, as though keeping them open was too much trouble. She started to lazily slide the candy cane’s tip back and forth in her mouth, her lips working it in and out like... like...

Warren hurried out of the store, blushing furiously. Halloween really brought out the worst in some people.

Warren was quite caught up in his departure—and his own personal distractions. As such, it is understandable that he might have missed some things of note.

For instance, he failed to notice that several other clerks, as well as a man in his late twenties dressed in the store manager’s uniform, were all gathered around a giggling young lady with hot pink hair.

He failed to notice, as well, that they were all sucking candy canes, and they all looked extremely sleepy.

As he exited the store, he failed to notice as the young lady ushered the lot into one of the changing rooms. Just before she entered after them, she glanced back, beaming at the departing patron.

Then she popped inside, gave her sticky-pop a little suck, and closed the curtains behind her.

“Weird!”

“I know, right?” Warren kept his cell phone propped between his shoulder and his ear as he made his way to the door, hefting a bowl full of Smarties and (ordinary) candy canes. “They’ll hire anyone, I guess. Anyways, I bought the candy—”

“Candy bars?”

He bit his lip. Hoo boy. He’d sort of skimmed some of the details of the clerk encounter—like the weird daydreams he’d had—but this would be far less easy to fudge. “Um, no. I got, um... Smarties. Smarties and—”

“Really?”

“—and candy canes.” He hesitated. “Christmas candy canes.”

There was a short silence.

“Warren, I went to my grandmother’s grave yesterday.” Alicia’s voice was soft. “I went to her grave, and I knelt down beside it and began to pray.”

“Alicia...”

“I stared at her gravestone, and remembered what it was like getting the news ten years ago. I remembered having to rush out of class. I remembered the aftermath. The funeral. And I said to that grave...” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “’Grandma, it’s been so long. I miss you. I hope you’re doing okay up there. Nothing’s been the same since you left. Grandma... Halloween’s coming up again, and I promise I will not get your house egged again this year.’“

“Alicia.”

“I promised, Warren.”

“I’m gonna hang up now. Kids at the door, gotta run.”

“Warren. Baby. B.B. My future husband. If you serve Christmas candy canes and Smarties at my house on Halloween, my reputation in this town will neve—”

Warren tossed the phone onto the couch and opened the door.

“Trick or treat!” recited six children. Warren counted three clowns, a Trump, a vampire, and a very young Elsa. Their parents lingered on the sidewalk, watching him with narrowed eyes, as if they knew. As if they knew what he had planned for their children.

“Wow!” he said, giving a forced laugh. “What are you supposed to be?”

“What are you supposed to be?” Elsa demanded.

“I’m a scarecrow.”” He waved his sleeve, and straw fell out. “It’s itchy.”

Satisfied with this answer, Queen Elsa immediately struck a pose and launched into an ear-splitting recital of Let It Go.

“I’m coming over there, Warren, and if I see a mess—”

“Alicia, relax.” Warren knew his fiance was only half-joking. Over the last seven years since she’d inherited the place, her house had been the victim of five eggings, four TPings, and one application of what a policeman had quaintly referred to as “Confederate mischief” spraypainted on her window. “I promise, if I see any teens, I’ll call the cops.”

“You do it, too. Get those dang kids off my lawn!”

“Trust me, the only thing I’m worried about is Thessalia stopping by and leaving a bunch of chicken heads on my front porch.”

Warren couldn’t help some nerves seeping into his voice. His ex-girlfriend had been sending some weird messages these last few weeks. He’d known she was into the occult, but some of the shit contained what were practically overt threats.

“Don’t worry—if I see her on the way, I’ll run her over. Didn’t you tell me she doesn’t even own a car? I’ll be unstoppable.”

Warren giggled. “You don’t even know what she looks like.”

“Well, she’s early twenties, right? If I see anyone her age on my lawn, I swear to god...”

“See you soon,” Warren said, grinning. He hung up the phone.

And then, almost immediately after, he heard a knock at the door.

Knock-knock.

Knock-knock.

Knock-knock.

He blinked. It was a curious knock, and for some reason, it made him heart flutter slightly. It was very even and steady. Almost like a heartbeat, or breathing.

Knock-knock.

Knock-knock.

Knock-knock.

Warren caught his breath aligning with the knocks, and shook himself. He was still out of sorts from that weird daydream he’d had that afternoon, clearly. He took a deep breath to clear his head as he went over to the door.

Wow, they were almost out of candy. How had that happened? There were only a few candy canes and Smarties left in the bowl. This house really was at the epicenter of trick-or-treating.

He really hoped they didn’t get egged. He’d been given only one job this year: Not to screw Alicia over.

He opened the door, still looking down at the bowl. “Trick or treat!” squealed a high-pitched familiar voice.

With a start, Warren’s eyes shot up. He realized to his shock that it was the very same woman from BourgeCo—and in the exact same scandalous costume. His eyes widened as she beamed up at him, clutching a big plastic pumpkin already half-full of candy. “Oh! Hi!”

“Hi?” Warren let out a half-laugh, struggling to put the daydreams out of his mind. She just showed you out of the store and got you to buy some candy canes, he told himself firmly. You imagined the rest because you were exhausted. Are exhausted. Focus on now. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Oh, sorry!” Candi giggled. The corset was, if anything, more scandalous than before—though maybe that was just the jack-o-lantern’s more intimate lighting. “You want me to do the whole rhyme?”

“What?”

“Okay!” She started to twirl around, waving the bucket as she danced along to a little song.

“Trick-or-treat! I’m so sweet! Give me something good to eat!”

The dance was brief and fast-paced, and Warren was having trouble focusing, but something about it seemed... distinctly lewd. He tried to tell himself he was imagining things, but every now and then she seemed to shake her tail a little, or looked up at him with a gleam in her eye that wasn’t just festive merriment, and...

... he shook himself as she completed the dance. She was teasing him; that was all. She’d probably noticed his tent back at the store and wanted to have some fun at his expense. He needed to focus on the real issue here.

“Aren’t you a bit old to be trick-or-treating?” he asked, trying to infuse his voice with some sternness.

Candi paused, staring up at him. She took out a pink-and-blue stick candy—similar to the sticky-pop she’d had before, but now in a circular spiral, like a more conventional lollipop—and gave it a lick before biting her lip. “I am?”

“Yeah.” He frowned, recovering some of his dignity. “Neighborhood rules. There is no way you’re ‘seventeen or below’.”

“Heehee!” She rolled her eyes. Her hand ran down over her body, almost as though she was trying to subtly frame her curves for him. His eyes followed the hand reflexively. “Haven’t you seen my costume, sweetie? I’ve gotta be at least a couple thousand! Demons are super old!”

“H-how have you even gotten that much candy?” he asked, pointedly staring at her bucket of candy instead of her.

“Ooh!” She put a finger to her lower lip, staring down into the bucket as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Gosh, I... I dunno! People just like giving me candy, I guess!”

“Really.”

“Uh-huh!” She grinned up at him, clearly quite happy with her answer. “Wouldn’t you like to give me candy?”

His mouth went dry. He stared determinedly into the bucket, trying desperately to focus on the candies inside. Something was bugging him about them. They looked ordinary enough, but something seemed... off. “Um...”

“C’mon, sweetie.” She giggled. “Gimme something sweet!”

That was it. He stared in confusion at the wrapper of one candy, which looked a lot like Smarties—except for the label, which seemed to read...

... Slutties. What the hell? Was that a gag candy? He squinted, certain he was misreading, and there were Venus Pieces. Creamy Ways. Miss Naughtybar. He stared blankly, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

“U-um...” He bit his lip. “Sorry. Neighborhood rules. Seventeen or younger.”

“Aw.” She pouted. “Are you sure you couldn’t make an exception? Pleeease?” She nibbled on her lollipop, giving long, sensuous licks.

“N-no.” Warren’s face was bright red, he knew, but she seemed totally oblivious to his discomfort. “Sorry.”

And he slammed the door.

Shit.

Shit! What the hell? What the hell? Did... is this something Thess pulled? Hired a... a prostitute to mess with me? Oh, god, I can’t get implicated in anything. I’m trying to be a teacher, for god’s sake!

He tried to rule out the possibility as absurd. But was it? Thess had always mocked him for being a prude. And it felt like she desperately wanted to ruin his life these days. Maybe she... maybe...

He stiffened, then let out a gasp. Oh.

Oh.

Oh. Oh, fuck. Fuck!

He let out a small whimper as his pants dropped to his ankles and he shoved his underwear down after. And then his hands were running over his hard cock, stroking as fast as he could manage. Fuck. Fuck!

To say a sudden wave of lust had torn through him would be accurate, and yet... not. He’d already been horny and hard from the meeting, but now...

… it felt like a long, wet tongue was running over his cock. What the hell?

The sensation was heavenly. Overwhelming. Biting his lip to stifle his moans, he tried to step away from the door and fell back against it with a thud. His knees were buckling, but he fought desperately to stay upright. He was panting. He couldn’t get Candi out of his head.

Licking that lollipop,.

Helping him unwrap the candy cane.

Licking that lollipop.

Her breasts flushed, swelling...

Licking his cock...

The sweet sugary scent of vanilla filled his head, and he felt himself sinking back onto the floor, crying out as he came. Cum shot out in globs, spattering onto his fiance’s hardwood floor. He bit his lip, moaning both in shame and overwhelming pleasure as the phantom tongue seemed to savor his throbbing, sensitive head.

And then the spell passed. The licking stopped. Warren found himself sitting on the floor of his fiance’s ancestral home, his hand wrapped around his cock, pants and underwear down to his ankles, and a small puddle of ejaculate on the floor in front of him.

He stared dumbly ahead.

He was... it was getting to him. The stress. Worries about Thessalia. He rationalized frantically to himself as he climbed to his feet. He wasn’t being put under some horrible spell. He wasn’t a pervert. He wasn’t under some sort of... sex addiction. This was just stress. That was all. Stress. He hadn’t gotten laid in a week. Maybe that was it. His fiance was gone and he was lonely.

It’s all in your head, he thought, shivering as he went to get paper towels.

When he came back and finished cleaning, he immediately picked up the bowl of candy, half-full, and stumbled over to to the television. He numbly clicked the remote, unwrapped several chocolates at once, and popped them into his mouth as the evening report came on. Hurricanes. Flooding on the east coast. Escalating situation with... with some country. He barely registered it all. He couldn’t get his minds off his total loss of control. The way he’d been unable to help but frig himself off right then and there.

The way Candi’s breasts had jiggled whenever she’d giggled.

There was a delicious aftertaste to the candy he couldn’t quite place.

Knock-knock.

Knock-knock.

Knock-knock.

Warren looked up numbly, then glanced down at his bucket. It was almost empty. Shit, he thought, Alicia really wasn’t kidding about this place being... Halloween Central.

He got up, stumbling a little bit, and made his way over to the door. As he got closer, he began to notice a curious, pleasant scent. It was faint, though, and it wasn’t until he opened the door that the knocking pattern and smell both suddenly clicked for him.

Candi beamed up at him, hands clasped around that bucket of hers—now seemingly much lighter, for some reason. “Hi!” she squealed.

He stared at her. “W-what?”

“Ooh! Sorry!” She bit her lip. “Trick-or-treat! You want me to do the dance again?”

“I... n-no.” Warren blanched at how disappointed Candi looked at this answer. It somehow felt wrong to disappoint the pink-haired beauty. It wasn’t her fault he was having so much trouble. It wasn’t fair to be rude to her. She was clearly very sweet. “No, thank you. But it’s a very nice dance.”

If his refusal had made her mood darken, his compliment sent her expression into radiance. “Thank you! I practiced a lot!”

“Y-yeah.” He gave a weak laugh. “So... you already came by here, Candi.”

She blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Um... oh, yes! I did!’ She shook the bucket. “I would like some candy!”

He grimaced. “Why do you even want candy so bad? You can just go buy it at the store. Aren’t you a little old for this?”

“Hee. Aren’t you a little young to be asking things like that?” Was it Warren’s imagination, or did the tip of her tongue slide across her lips at that? “Anyways, I love candy! So gimme candy!” She giggled.

“Really?” He rolled his eyes. “I outgrew my sweet tooth years ago.”

“Oh, really?” She smirked knowingly. “Did you?”

“Ye—why? What are you smiling at?”

She reached up and dabbed at her own lip delicately. “You’ve got a little something!”

“What?” Warren reached up and touched his mouth. Blushing furiously, he licked his lips and wiped his mouth clean, realizing it was a bit stained by the chocolate he’d been stress-eating. “O-oh.” He had nothing to say about that.

“I love candy!” Candi said happily, bouncing up and down in place. “Everyone loves candy!” Warren’s eyes were instantly reeled as though on a line to her rising and falling chest. “It’s so sweet and yummy!”

“I...”

“Don’t you?” she cooed, leaning in. Warren found himself staring right at her rack. “Don’t you like sweet things?”

“I...”

“Sweet things,” she breathed, “make me think of nice feelings. Isn’t sweetness nice?”

“I-I guess.”

“Everyone loves sweetness,” she said sweetly. “Even you!” She poked him right in the chest. He flinched as though she was a viper who could bite him. “Sweetness feels so nice, doesn’t it?”

He stared at her lush red lips. The way she seemed to savor her words made him quake inside. She kept licking her lips, and he found himself wondering... how would she taste? She clearly had some sort of flavored lipstick, the way she tasted her own lips. Sweet, definitely. The scent of vanilla hung around his head like a thick fog.

He realized he’d tuned out of what she was saying, but what did it matter? Candi wasn’t saying anything he could disagree with. She was just reminding him how much he loved sweet things, how good sweet things made him feel. He smiled absently as she puckered up her lips, as though to plant a kiss, to convey how annoying sour things were compared to sweet things. “Yeah...”

“Yeah?” He drifted back into reality a little as she smiled up at him. “Were you paying attention, Mister?”

“Wh-uh?” He gave a nervous laugh. “Uh, yeah! Sure. I love sweet things. Sugar. Candy. Makes us feel nice, whatever.” He was starting to feel like this was a waste of time. Candi was sweet enough, but he had things to get back to.

Like his raging hard-on.

Maybe it would be better to just give her some candy so she’d leave him to it. Make her happy. Just giving in and giving Candi what she wanted would make everything so much easier,

She licked her lips. Gods, her lips were so lush and pink.

Cocksucking lips, said a strange voice inside his head. He tried to dispel the thought, but it was like trying to grab mist with his bare hands. Cotton candy mist that stuck to his fingers, ensnared him like a cotton candy spiderweb. She’s asking for it. Just look at her! Bubbly little bimbo trying to tease you. Give her something to tease, mm?

He shook his head, trying desperately to dislodge the horrid thoughts. No! It was wrong to think such things about Candi. Candi was sweet and innocent.

“Well?” she asked, and he realized she’d been speaking to the whole time. “What do you think?”

“Uh?” He stared at her lips, slack-jawed.

The lips curved up into a gleeful smile. “Someone’s a bit scatterbrained!” the Devil-costumed trick-or-treater exclaimed. “Well, that makes two of us! Teehee!” She leaned in. “I was asking,” she whispered, “what flavor you think my lip gloss is!”

And then, without waiting for a response, she kissed him right on the lips.

Warren was stunned. Pleasure warred with lust warred with desire to obey and please Candi warred with...

... no, he realized, his body and mind were in perfect agreement. He sank into her sweet kiss—vanilla and sugar, yes, but with a delicious aftertaste he couldn’t quite place—and let the pleasure drown him. Her lips were soft and warm and pillowy, and the kiss she gave was perfect—sloppy, wet and messy, but delightful. He opened his mouth just slightly, sinking into the kiss, begging her tongue to enter him—

And she pulled away, giggling, and popped a chocolate fudge piece into his mouth

He stared at her, blinking. But as the fudge melted on his tongue, his surprise and disappointment melted into dizzy happiness, and he smiled dreamily. He’d never tasted anything so good.

She was whispering to him again, now, but he only half-understood what she was saying. Promises. Teasing remarks. And, of course, questions.

“You want more?” she cooed, caressing his cheek. He moaned and nodded as the last of the fudge dissolved into him. His head was fuzzy and warm and... gooey. Like the chocolate. He was like a bar of fudge melting on Candi’s tongue, in her hot little mouth.

She gave him a smile that made his cock throb joyously as she slipped a few more little candies into his mouth—they tasted vaguely peanut buttery, but with every crunch, he felt explosions of gooey pleasure burst onto his tongue. The wrapper she was pouring the candies from read, “Venus Peaces”.

She reached down as she fed him his next sweet thing—this one a candy bar of some kind—and he felt her hand running over his pants. She cooed softly in his ear. “Someone’s being naughty!”

“Mm?” He blinked blearily, absently eating the candy bar from her hand, then licking her fingers clean.

He felt her other hand caress his cock through his denim jeans.

“I can tell what you want,” she moaned, running her hand over his cock again. “But I bet you don’t know what I want!”

“Mm!” He looked at her with dreamy adoration. She was such a nice lady, really.

“I want all your candy!” she cooed. “All your sweet, yummy-nummy candy, Mister!” She reached forward, cupped his chin, and gave him a little peck on the cheek. His skin tingled where her lips left their pink lipstick stain.

He blinked. “A... all?”

“All!” She bounced gleefully, releasing his cock once more. She took his arm and gently led him inside, reaching behind her for the doorknob. “I loooove candy, and yours is the yummiest around!”

The door closed softly, giving barely a click as she turned the lock. He stared vacantly into her deep, hot pink eyes. “Th-that... sounds like a lot...” he mumbled.

“No it’s not!” She easily led him back to the TV couch. “See, I’m so sweet, you don’t need anything else anymore! Right?”

“Um...”

“I can give you all my candy,” she said, leaning in to kiss his neck. “and then you won’t need any anymore! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

As she laid him back onto the couch, one leg draped over his own, bounteous breasts pressed into his shoulder, he stared off into the distance and swallowed the last of the candy bar’s delicious caramel filling. “That does... s-sound nice...” he slurred.

Seeming delighted, Candi planted several loving kisses on his cheek. “I know it does,” she gushed. “You’re such a sweetie!”

“Sweet...”

She giggled. “Wow, you’re almost as big a ditzy-witzy as me. We fit!” And with one last tender kiss, she hopped up from the couch.

“C-Candi,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry!” She blew him a kiss, then, smirking, took a green sucking candy out of her bag and popped it into his mouth. The wrapper seemed to say “Jilling Ranchers”.

He found himself sucking vapidly at it, savoring the wonderful flavors. “I’m just gonna cook you up something special!” Candi giggled. “I know I’m not supposed to, but... well, you deserve it, cutie!” She caressed his cheek with her knuckles, almost like one might acknowledge a pet.

“Oh.” He stared blankly after her retreating ass, marveling at how perky it was. And as she vanished into the kitchen, he turned back to the television. His eyes were heavy-lidded, but he had the strange sense that something was slightly off about all this.

He breathed in. The vanilla smell was slowly dispersing, thanks to an open window. He wasn’t sure he remembered opening that window, come to think of it—though it had been open when he’d gotten up to answer the door just now—but the cool breeze was now a blessing.

His head slowly cleared, at least partially. He bit his lip.

Something was very wrong about all this.

I should get up, he thought, staring straight ahead at the black screen. But he was comfortable on the couch. There was candy within easy reach. He was still happily sucking on the candy she’d so sweetly given him. I should run. But he was tired and pliant, and the smell wasn’t all gone. He could hear Candi humming the trick-or-treat song in the other room, and something about her high-pitched voice made him feel weak inside.

What was she? Had today not been a daydream? Had she caused the phantom tongue earlier? Could she do that do him again if she tried to run?

He needed to drown out her voice. Needed to distract himself. Literally anything would do. He reached over, fumbled with the remote, and pressed the Power button.

Loud moaning greeted his ears. Two buxom redheads were sixty-nining atop a feather comforter—a comforter that looked not unlike his fiance’s upstairs, come to think of it. They were moaning in the way only porn stars could, licking and sucking hungrily at one another.

The caption below signaling the film he was watching read,

SWEET SURRENDER.

He stared for a long moment before changing the channel.

“Ee! Aah! Ooh!” This one was a cartoon—one of those Japanese ones. A big-eyed blonde with bunny ears was whining and writhing as she sank into what looked like cotton candy. A woman with the lower body of a pink crab spider looked down at her, laughing. The caption read,

OBEDIENCE IS PLEASURE.

He dimly remembered changing the channel. Now it was western animation, but still porn—a young man was on his knees in a barn stable, staring up at some sort of cow woman with enormous breasts and curled cow horns.

“Oh, baby,” breathed the woman, fluttering her eyelashes, “I need to be milked. I have so much sweet milk in me. Doesn’t my baby want his milk?”

“M-Mommy,” whimpered the man, licking his lips. The woman’s nipples were tinged with moisture, Warren realized. She was lactating.

SUBMIT TO SWEETNESS.

Warren changed the channel. A man stood atop an enormous table, staring down an oozing slime girl made of caramel. Before Warren’s eyes, the man was tackled by the woman and started to scream, much to the caramel slime girl’s delight.

CAN’T RESIST.

Warren changed the channel. A young woman lay at the bottom of a strange pit, staring into the eyes of a gorgeous silver-haired woman immersed to her waist in sand.

LOSE YOUR HEART.

It was getting harder and harder to change the channel every time, but Warren was desperately trying to resist the urge to just sit there and masturbate. He needed to get his mind off this. He skipped past several channels featuring hourglass-waisted blondes fucking each other, fucking men, fucking women, and pouring honey into their unresisting victims’ open mouths.

Was there anything on on Halloween aside from goddamned porn?

Finally, he settled on a station that seemed normal. It was an ad—one of those ads paid for by non-profits. This nonprofit was called, “Humanitarian Effort on Limited Living”. Generic much?

On the screen, an attractive pink-haired woman smiled at him. She stood by a bustling street corner. “Hi,” she said blandly. She held up a candy bar. “You know what I love? Candy! I bet you love candy, too. Everyone loves candy!”

Well, it was boring, but boring was what he needed right now. Warren tried to will himself up, but the flavor of the sugary sucking candy still lingered in his mouth.

“And Halloween’s a great time for candy!” She beamed. “But sometimes we want too much candy, don’t we? We love it too much?”

Warren snorted. If the Humanitarian Effort only knew.

“Did you know that John Harvey Kellogg believed that sweetness was very harmful to you?” She held up a big lollipop and twirled it in her hand. Its swirling colors made Warren’s head spin a little. “He believed that sweet things made you sinful. He believed that eating candy made people want to, well...” She giggled, giving the lollipop a meaningful kiss.

Sure. Whatever. Weird old guy stuff. Warren grimaced at the suggestiveness, though.

“And he was right!”

He blinked. Wait, really? Was this a conservative channel or something?

“It’s very important to stop eating candy,” the pink-haired woman said, smiling widely. “Candy makes us weak, doesn’t it? We can’t help but eat more. And more. And soon we’ll say yes to anything!” She shrugged out of her sweater. “We just can’t help ourselves. That’s how sin works.”

STARE AND LOSE.

Warren squirmed. The pink-haired woman was very well-endowed beneath that sweater. Her t-shirt fit very tightly.

“Well,” the woman sang, giving her lollipop a long lick, “it’s like they always say. Give the devil an inch, and she’ll take you a mile.” She winked. “We just can’t help ourselves! It’s too sweet to give in to sin. Sooner or later, we all lose our heart.”

SERVE AND OBEY.

“B-but...” Warren couldn’t help but try to argue. This was a very strange ad.

“All it takes is one lick,” she said, giving another loving lick. “One suck.” She suckled at the tip of the lollipop for a moment. “One taste of sugar on your tongue, and you just... give in.” She giggled. “You turn into a weak, submissive tool of sin, don’t you? You are what you eat. You don’t want to turn all sweet and pliant inside, do you?”

SWEETNESS IS BLISS.

“Uh...”

She started to take off her shirt and bra, beaming all the while. “You just can’t help yourself. Sin’s so tasty! So it’s very, very important that you not eat any candy.” She winked.

Her breasts spilled out of the lacy bra, and Warren’s jaw dropped. Her tits were fantastic. He only wished he could feel them, could smell their sweet, vanilla scent up close. She smiled eagerly at him, running her hands over them, caressing her nipples. “All it takes is one little piece of candy,” she cooed, “and you’re as good as hers. And the more you let her give you...” She started to pull down her pants

OBEY.

Then her panties.

OBEY.

Warren was panting. His hand rested over his trouser tent, but he didn’t touch himself. He was too enraptured by the display.

SUBMIT.

Still whispering—and soon moaning—promises of how submissive, how weak, how vulnerable candy and sugar would make him, the woman began to masturbate right in the middle of a crowded street. Her eyes smoldered as she lapped and sucked at her lollipop.

“Ooh!” Candi came skipping back in, cradling something in her arms. “You found my favorite show!”

Warren gave a start. How had Candi already finished? It had only been... been... a few minutes?

“My cupcakes are done,” Candi said, settling back on the bed. She was carrying a large glass bowl. “But I need someone to check the icing!”

He caught a strong sugary scent, and his eyes drifted down. He breathed in deeper, smelling the bowl full of pale icing, its vanilla scent stronger than anything he’d ever known.

She ran her finger through it, beaming at him. “Wanna be my taste tester?” she cooed.

Warren stared at the finer, dimly registering the advertisement in the background. “... so hard to resist with every passing second a sweet thing is in front of you. If you can’t get away, it’s just going to keep on smelling delicious, and you’re just gonna keep breathing it in until you can’t help it. And you’re getting so horny...”

He leaned in, breathing in deep. He struggled to pull back, but he smelled the delicious icing and just... couldn’t help himself.

He slowly took Candi’s finger into his mouth, whimpering, and started to lick off the icing.

“Oh!” Candi squirmed slightly. “I didn’t—I h-had a spoon—” She moaned as he sucked harder. “N-Naughty boy!” Her hand reached down, and he felt her fiddling with his belt. Her finger twirled around in his mouth. “Do we like that?”

He moaned. He could already feel the ad’s words coming true. He was so horny, so obedient. He just couldn’t help himself.

She pulled the finger out of his mouth, giggling. It was now clean. “Good?” she cooed. “Is it yummy for my sweet boy?”

“Yummy...” His mind was awash in bliss and lust. With just a fingerful of icing, he knew Candi had inadvertently doomed him. She couldn’t have known—couldn’t have known how horny sweet things would make him, how he wouldn’t be able to help but beg for more...

She smirked. “Y’know, a nice boy would say thank-you!”

“Th... thank you,” he whispered, licking his lips. Her hand kept brushing over his pants, ever-so-lightly grazing his crotch. It was driving him to the point of insensibility. He’d say anything to make her happy.

And saying this made Candi very, very happy. So happy that she evidently couldn’t help but lean in and cover his face with kisses. “Good boy! What a good boy!”

“Nn...”

She paused, blinking big, innocent eyes. “Nn? Hm?” Her eyes glanced down toward his crotch. “Oh!” She looked back up at him with a slightly guilty pout. “Did I do that to my sweet boy?” She raised her hand up from his groin. “Should I... stop?”

“No!” He surprised himself with the vehemence and certainty of his words. He stared at her with desperation. He was tingling all over. His head felt weirdly weak. It’s like the ad said, he thought. You are what you eat. It’s making me all... sweet inside...

“Hm.” She cocked her head, slowly unbuckling his jeans. “Do you... want me to do more?” She pouted, as if trying very hard to gauge what he wanted from her.

He whimpered and nodded.

Her eyes lit up, and with one tug, his pants were down. She reached down and actually tore his underwear off, giggling at the ease. “Gosh, they really don’t make these fabrics like they used to! Then again...” She leaned in, eyelashes fluttering. “I bet the weak material’s more comfortable.”

Her and gently grasped his cock and squeezed.

“C-Candi,” he whimpered.

“Quiet, silly!” She began to stroke up and down his shaft.

He obeyed.

“I’m just gonna help you feel better,” she cooed. “You’re being all sweet and silly. Once you cum, you’ll feel soooo much better!”

But he wouldn’t, Warren knew with growing dread. Candi thought he would because she didn’t know. And how could she? She hadn’t seen the ad. More pleasure would just make him want more, and more, and more.

But he could say nothing. He was already all sweet and pliant inside. All he could do was lie there and accept the pleasure. More, more, more. He needed it all.

As she ran her soft hand over his member, she dipped her other finger into the icing with a little laugh. “Does my boy want more?” she purred in his ear.

“Aah,” he moaned.

She popped her finger in. He sucked and licked with unnatural hunger. The icing was delectable—it practically melted in his mouth. It was buttermilk icing, he was pretty sure, but there was something. Something else. It was like... like...

Oh, god—

He let out a loud moan as he came from her attentions, spasming in her grasp. Bliss seeped into him like syrup. She slowly milked out every ounce of cum—then dipped her head down and took a tentative little lick. “Ooh!” She beamed up at him, even as his cock twitched once more. “You’re so sweet!”

She brought her hand up and slowly licked herself clean even as she guided him to lick at her other hand, positively covered in cake frosting. He ate like he was starving.

And then he heard the doorbell chime.

He froze. So did Candi, just for a moment. Her lush lips turned down in a frown.

Then a smile played across them. “Ooh,” she murmured, slowly licking the last of his semen from her fingers, “who could that be?”

“Hey!” called a horribly familiar voice at the door that instantly jolted Warren from his lusty-sweet stupor. “Trick-or-treat, dude! Don’t make me get the eggs!” And a laugh. A laugh he knew well. A laugh he loved.

It was... it took him a strangely long time to recall the name.

Alicia.

His eyes widened. He lurched up clumsily from the couch, ignoring Candi’s sad whine. He rapidly struggled to take stock with a brain that seemed to be functioning purely on auxiliary functions. He was standing right in the living room, his pants down to his ankles, his underwear shredded, his cock in the capable control of a gorgeous woman who smelled like sugar and vanilla and—

His hyperventilating was cut short by a comforting touch on his shoulder. Candi smiled, drawing him into her warm embrace, guiding his face down toward her breasts. “Breathe, boy. Breeeathe.”

He breathed. His heart rate ebbed and slowed. Candi smelled so nice. He breathed again. His head swam.

He suddenly felt a lot better.

“C’mon!” Candi whispered in his ear as he leaned into her arms. “Before she comes in! Heehee!”

Something about this was... was wrong. He shook himself. “I...” What was going on? “I n-need to...”

She gently took his chin, guided him to look into her beautiful hot pink eyes, and kissed him on the lips. Her sweet taste filled his mouth, made his brain sparkle with passion, his dick throb with need.

When she pulled away, he must have looked a bit dazzled, because she laughed. She grabbed his hand and dragged him off.

He followed meekly. He was still trying to clear his head—to remember what he’d been worried about, why this was wrong, why he couldn’t think straight—when Candi opened the closet door, shoved him inside, and shut the door behind her.

And darkness filled his world.

Warren found himself lost in shadows, staring up at Candi’s curvy silhouette. He blinked, wondering why his eyes weren’t adjusting. All he could see was her tiny waist, her swelling breasts. He breathed in, smelling her wondrous scent, and his head sank back against sheets and dresses. He couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t think.

Her eyes were glowing.

He stared up at her, uncomprehending. Those pink eyes. They were glowing. That was the source of light in here.

“Such a good boy,” she breathed, and for the first time he registered how much all this was affecting her. She licked her lips, practically panting with lust. “Such a good, dummy boy.”

Her pleasure made his cock tingle wit anticipation. He remembered the last time she’d praised him like this.

Then he heard the door open, and he heard Alicia’s voice. “Warren? Hello?” In a quieter tone, she muttered, “Is he in the bathroom or something?”

Warren stared up into Candi’s gleaming pink eyes. Once, he’d seen a short animation of the Great Red Spot—the storm in Jupiter. He’d seen the swirling redness, and something about it had captivated him in a strange way he hadn’t known since..

He was lost in Candi’s eyes. Something about them reminded him of those storms—something distant and alien, yet passionate and tempestuous.

He struggled to his feet. This was... this was wrong. Everything about this was wrong, but something was very, very wrong in a way he didn’t quite understand. He bit his lip and reached around Candi for the doorknob.

But Candi just kept smiling that innocent smile. She batted her lashes and watched him through them, waiting for him to make a move. She leaned slightly and soon his hand, guiding his hand to rest not on the door, but on her breast.

He held it there. Her eyes swirled with hunger.

He needed to fight, he knew. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. But his mind was already drifting into those eyes, lost in the distant storm. Candi couldn’t mean him any ill. She was so sweet and innocent.

And he wanted more. He needed more. Candi had claimed him without even knowing that was what she was doing. Her sweetness was filling his heart now.

He swallowed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Warren?” Alica was coming towards the closet door. Warren opened his mouth to try to respond, but then Candi licked her lips, and somehow that sent all rational thought careening from his brain. “Is that you?”

Candi watched hm a moment, seeming to appraise him. Warren stared back at her, slowly realizing how helpless he truly was.

Then Candi beamed ear-to-ear as she evidently realized it too.

And she sank to her knees.

“What the hell’s on TV?” he heard Alicia mumbling. “Jesus, Warren, this is... I mean...”

Candi leaned in. Took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale the very essence of his cock.

Warren trembled, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Those eyes were still so wide and eager as she leaned forward and licked. Her tongue ran briefly over his glans. He released a squeak.

“... Jesus,” he heard Alicia repeat. “Huh.” Her voice sounded oddly breathy. But Warren was finding it harder and harder to focus on Alicia. Indeed, he was finding it harder and harder to do anything other than struggle to stay silent as Candi continued to gently lap at him.

“I want your candy,” Candi cooed. “I want all of it. I want you to give your heart to me, sweetie. Can you do that?” She stared up at him with wide, adoring eyes. “Can you love me, sweet boy?”

He was panting, too, now. The flavors of sweetness and vanilla and something else lingered in his mind, oozing like molasses, slowing all other thought.

“Gimme your candy, Warren.” Candi giggled, leaning in and giving him another lick that caused him to jerk. “Please? Please! I need it!”

Warren’s heart was pounding. This was horrible. This was unforgivable. This was... was...

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please, take whatever you want, Candi. I love you. I love you.”

And Candi’s eyes gleamed with joy.

Without another word, she leaned in and planted a long, wet kiss on his cock.

“Aa—mm!” Warren’s scream was cut off as a slithering shape leaped up in front of him and popped something into his mouth. He blinked. It took him a moment to understand what had silenced his cry.

It was Candi’s lollipop. Sweet, wonderful flavors flooded into his mouth, and his thoughts scattered like autumn leaves.

He heard Candi giggling below, and her eyes glittered with amusement that suddenly seemed somehow less innocent. She took his erection between her lips and began to suck.

Warren’s eyes would have rolled up into his skull if he’d had any semblance of will to look away from Candi. Instead, he stared in stunned amazement, moaning through the candy even as he docilely sucked it, as Candi’s head began to bob back and forth on his shaft.

He trembled with pleasure. Her lips were heavenly, and her tongue was happily slathering over his cock inside, layering adoration upon it. The look in her eyes... it was positively rapturous. He felt the pleasure pouring into him, crowding all free will out with sheer drunken, gooey love.

And as she sucked him, he started to hear a sound from outside the closet.

Wet sounds.

Moans.

They worried him. Confused him. Made him horny. Mainly the latter. But all it took was one flutter of Candi’s lashes to dispel any lingering doubts. Any thoughts at all.

Candi didn’t look like the giggling ditz anymore. Her eyes blazed with passion as she devoured him, her lips sliding over his dick, bathing him in ecstasy. They narrowed in wicked delight as he started to whimper and whine louder and louder, unable to help himself.

And he was starting to see things now, as his eyes finally adjusted, out of the corner of his eye. He leaned back against the closet wall, knees close to buckling, but she only pressed the advantage, overwhelming him with ecstasy. There was something sinuous, alight, and it rose from just above her ass. Like a tail. And there were fluttering... things rising from between her shoulder blades, like pink, scaled bat wings.

It wasn’t a costume.

It wasn’t a costume.

And she knew he knew. Her eyes smoldered. Go ahead, they said. Ask me to stop. Beg me to stop. I’ll stop for you if you want me to. Just ask, sweetie!

His will was putty, even in his terror. Fear was getting flooded by lust, drowned out. But he struggled to resist. Alicia was out there, he knew, and god only knew what was happening to her. He couldn’t let her down. He couldn’t let her down.

He opened his mouth and spoke.

And the lollipop garbled it to gibberish. And Candi laughed. She laughed as she sucked him, eyes gleaming with delight at his plight. Poor baby, those eyes said mockingly. You’re mine now.

But that humiliation was almost a mercy compared to the truth.

He was pretty sure he had not been trying to ask her to stop.

He cried out and whimpered, despair turning into complete surrender, as she redoubled her efforts. He was overwhelmed. Defeated. Dominated.

His moans became cries around the lollipop, echoed by those outside the closet. He realized he was about to cum at the exact same time as Alicia.

Candi was going to make him cum just three meters from where his fiance was masturbating. And somehow, he knew that she had arranged this deliberately.

But he was helpless now. Enslaved to her lips, enslaved to her tongue, to her breasts, to her shimmering wings and gleaming eyes...

... but more than anything, enslaved to her sweet, delicious temptations. And they both knew it.

And he came. Explosively. Screaming. Pleasure flooded through him like a glacier had shattered, rapid and overwhelming. But more than that, he felt something... leaving him.

He jerked and writhed, knees buckling, and Candi bore him to the ground with a moan. She was almost like a predatory animal, now, pinning him and mounting him in one smooth motion. His eyes widened as her upper lips swapped places with her lower lips and she began to ride him, not even breaking rhythm. Her pussy was incredible.

And now she could speak to him again.

“You’re giving it up,” she hissed beneath his screams, and her words burrowed into his brain and blazed themselves in there, forming his new mind where the old had been scorched. “You’re giving me all your yumminess, my sweet boy! Thessalia is gonna be super happy with me for this! I was the first one to get to you!”

He stared up at her, wide-eyed, as his cock thrust desperately into her tight, wet folds. The bliss was filling him like a balloon, filling the emptiness his heart had left, filling his heart with sweet, sugary submission. Soon, he knew, he wouldn’t have space to comprehend what she was saying anymore. It would settle in him, write his new identity.

He was hers now, completely and perfectly, and he would love her forever for claiming him. The loss of his soul could never have been so sweet as with her.

“But you know what?” She beamed, then gave a short cry, her eyes screwing up as her hips shuddered. “Ah, fuck! Feels s-so nice...” She smiled lazily down at him. “I’m even more happy. Because you’ve been a good, tasty boy.”

“C-Candi!” he screamed.

“Ooh.” Her eyelids lowered. “I—nn—I th-think ‘Mistress’ will do from now on, sweetie. Oh, yes.”

He moaned and nodded. The orgasm stretched on and on, bathing his mind in climaxing bliss.

“I’m g-gonna milk you,” she cooed, “until there’s—ee!—not a drop of s-soul left in you.” His heart raced at these words, but he couldn’t muster even a speck of true fear anymore. The pleasure wrote it all out of his mind instantly. “G-gonna make you a nice, tasty little slave for us! Make your heart nnnnice a-and sweeeet and—and—” She started to bounce faster atop him, gasping for breath. “D-do you w-want that?”

He could only nod, totally overwhelmed, as he continued to cum into her slick, tight cunt. Yes. He wanted whatever Candi wanted. Whatever Mistress wanted. He would be her vessel, her toy, her pet, her slave—anything, as long as he could experience this again.

She giggled. “I know you do!” Her hips wriggled around him. “But you know I can’t finish the job! That’s up to you.”

He stared up at her absently.

Slowly, the orgasm began to... not fade. Retreat. It retreated t the back of his mind, a constant eruption of subtle bliss. And Mistress rose off him, her pink wings folding neatly behind her back.

“You’re just a sweet little thing, now, huh?” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

“Yes, Mistress,” he whimpered. He shook as a little burst of pleasure coursed through him, as the receded pleasure became a bit more vibrant for just a second at his obedience. Obedience was sweet. Sweetness meant pleasure.

She giggled. “Then you’re gonna do one last thing for me, and then you can do everything for me.”

He stared at her, longing for answers.

She reached down with a fond smile, finger tickling along his cock. He bucked, biting his lip.

“You know what to do!” she whispered.

And she dissolved into mist and vanished.

Alicia let out a long sigh, giving a vacant smile at the television. The pretty pink-haired lady had been saying a lot of things about how unhealthy sweet things could be, and for some reason, Alicia had gotten really horny. She’d made a bit of a mess of the couch watching the lady in the ad.

“Remember,” the lady was saying, as she slid a finger across her clit and sucked on a sticky-pop, “a good bimbo is a sweet bimbo!”

“Mm-hm...” Alicia’s eyelids were drooping. “S-sweet...”

Then she heard the closet door open and she gave a violent start. She lunged for the remote and clicked the TV off with one hand, as with the other, she grabbed a cushion and laid it over her lap, concealing how she’d brought her skirt up. She stared, red-faced, as Warren exited the closet.

“Warren!” she squeaked. She was still a little out of it. “W-what—what are you doing in there?”

“I took a nap.” Warren gave an embarrassed shrug. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Alicia wanted to be mad at him for ditching the trick-or-treaters, but she was still flustered from her indiscretion and hoping Warren wouldn’t notice her panties between her ankles. “Did I smell something in the kitchen?” she asked weakly.

Warren stared at her.

He slowly smiled.

“Yes,” he said. “I made cupcakes. Here, I’ll get you one!”

“Ooh! But, um...” Alicia usually didn’t really like sweet foods. But a strange memory whispered in her mind, Everyone loves sweet things. A good bimbo is a sweet bimbo. “I... um... sure!” Alicia rubbed her legs together subconsciously.

Warren turned and went into the kitchen. Alicia smiled and leaned back against the couch, her eyelids drooping.

Unconsciously, she clicked the TV back on. There was nothing much on. Just the standard A GOOD SLUT IS A SWEET SLUT. programming.

She lay back and waited patiently for her boyfriend to return. It was nice of him to offer. He really could be such a sweetheart sometimes.