The Return of The Confectioner – Part 3 (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.