Candy is Dandy

And here's chapter two. Things kinda got away from me, especially in regards to the whole pressure/warmth thing (you'll see), but I think maybe it turned out alright? Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, and voted. It's always nice to know that I'm not just throwing words into a void. Also, Qweenseeker, feel free to toss your ideas at me if you aren't going to use em.

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"You're going to scream for me, little one." Babette's body shook with barely-suppressed rage as the orc whispered in her ear, making promises of what he planned to do. She was not one to be cowed by threats, but these, she knew, were only meant to heighten his own enjoyment of what was to come. Sick fetcher. It took a great deal of self-control to keep her bloodlust leashed, but self-preservation was still more powerful an instinct. She had to hold out, to wait for an opening. As soon as his massive hand, and that thrice-damned ring, was away from her neck, she would complete her mission. Until then, however......

 

She grimaced with disgust as her mark shoved his flat nose into her hair, breathing deeply. His throat bobbed right in front of her face, testing her patience and taxing her control even further. With one small move, she could tear his throat out with her teeth and be done with this whole embarrassment of an assignment. Or,  the side of her that had kept her from getting herself killed these past three-hundred years noted, she might only wound him and get her head literally torn off her body for her trouble. She weighed the risk carefully against how utterly enraged she was at being, well, molested like some helpless child. Rage made a strong argument, at least to her current mind. But then, the orc moved and his neck, along with her dubious opportunity, was out of reach.

 

"I've never tasted one like you." Her rapist panted huskily, his long, dark tongue dragging along the side of her face and neck. She grit her teeth together tightly as the slimy appendage veered over her lips, his hot breath rolling over her like wet fog in the cold alley. As much as she wanted to, biting his tongue off most definitely would be the end of her. "The sweetness of mead, but so much more full than the others." He rambled. "Like a fine wine." Mentally, she scoffed. It figured that the one way to detect her advanced age was something that only only a pervert would do to a young girl. She had to make sure he never left the alley now, this was not a method of detection she wanted to find its way back to the vampire hunters. The mad fools would end up licking half of Skyrim, and then some.

 

Rage was quickly turning to annoyance as the orc continued to lick his way down her arms and the sides of her legs, leaving her limbs shimmering with wetness. Each time she subtly tried to inch away from his hand, he tapped the ring against her neck. As distracted as he was with the, ugh, feast before him, he was still keeping his wits about him. Hopefully, and she couldn't believe she actually had call to think such a thing, he would hurry up and get to the actual act of raping her before she lost her patience. At least then, if a few contracts she'd had over the years were any indication, he would become oblivious to everything around him, including the fact that there was an assassin about. One thing she could say about the Brotherhood, the work was always challenging, even after a few hundred years.

 

She sighed aloud as the tongue-lashing continued unabated. Surely, she thought, his tongue had to be getting tired by now? Her tongue got tired just talking for too long, and this was certainly more strenuous than that. He chuckled at her sigh, rubbing one spit covered-tusk against her stomach.

 

"Starting to feel it now, eh?" He said smugly. She rolled her eyes, not bothering to respond to the idiot as he licked upwards from her middle. "Just wait, the best is yet to come." He reached new heights in disgusting her then, his free hand dropping to rub at his erection through his undercloth. Ugh, there was a wet circle forming around the tip, even. She looked away. Many called vampires slaves to their thirst for blood, but it was obvious that mortals were slaves to their own thirsts. Oh well, at least this meant the main event was approaching. She just had to endure a slight bit more-

 

"Ah!" Babette squeaked, much to her own surprise, as a jolt shot through her chest. Her eyes wide with alarm, she looked down to meet his own shocked gaze. In three-hundred years, she had never felt anything like tha- "Ah!" Another jolt shot through her as his tongue ran back over her nipple. It was a spark of some kind, a crackling spike of energy that occupied her chest for a faint moment, then vanished, leaving an empty impression of where it had been.

 

"Sensitive, are we?" The orc's voice took, to her ear, a sinister edge. What had he just done?! Was it some kind of magic? Or was his sickness a catching thing? Had he infected her with his sick perversion? "I love the sensitive ones." She tried to pull from his grasp, pushed more by fear than frustration now, but his strength and ring held her in place. He grinned as had before, though she saw a new darkness in it, reading the new emotion in her eyes. Now he was truly in his element. Despite herself, her breath quickened.

 

She screwed her eyes shut as he resumed his assault on her undeveloped breasts, trying to hold her voice in. The jolts shot through her in rapid succession as his tongue flicked back and forth over the greyish-pink nubs. The crackling built in her chest, pressing against her lungs and forcing her breath out in gasps. She tried, truly fought her body to hold back her voice, but the pressure continued to build within her, filling her chest entirely and rising up her throat.

 

"Mmm!" A bit of the pressure found its release through her closed mouth, dragging a bit of sound out of her with it. There had been few times she'd cursed her body over the centuries, but now she cursed it with all her blackened soul for its betrayal. Because of it, she was actually at the mercy of her mark. Because of this treacherous body, the orc had these terrible new sensations to use against her. She let off several more involuntary squeaks through her closed lips, the pressure starting to bypass her throat and travel up into her head.

 

"You like it, don't you, little one?" He growled, her reactions feeding his arousal. His free hand raised from his member to fondle her flat chest, rubbing a thick coating of pre-cum over her nipple. A high-pitched whine, much to her horror, welled up in her throat. His head rose from her chest then; she could feel his tongue trailing back towards her face as his fingers kneaded the viscous fluid into her skin. Between the mounting pressure and the work of his hand, she hardly noticed when he began lapping at her lips, his tongue trying to find a way past her teeth.

 

"Ahh-mm!" It found its path when he pinched her nipple. The sensation caused a sudden unexpected jump in the pressure, and a squeak forced open her mouth. Taking the opening, the orc forced his way inside, his tongue wrapping its way around hers, twisting and pulling and writhing. She wanted to close her teeth, to bite off the invader, consequences be damned, but the pressure had found a release and she could not close off its escape, instead moaning steadily into his mouth. Instead of lessening, however, this only seemed to increase it. She felt tears of frustration, the first she had felt since becoming a vampire, prick at her eyes. The orc chuckled again.

 

"You want it, don't you?" His voice vibrated through her, agitating the sparks and causing them to jump about. The pressure, with nowhere else to go, began to creep downwards. "You're just a needy little whore!" What? He was raping her, and that made her a whore? The word 'fetcher' flickered in her thoughts briefly, but blinked away when he pinched her nipple again. She hadn't even realized that his ring hand had left her throat, overwhelmed as she was, until she felt it sliding down her belly. It came to a rest just below her belly-button, its massive span settling the thumb atop the space hair might have grown, had her body ever reached puberty. Somehow, just touching that spot sent new jolts, slower and warmer, shooting deep within her. She shivered, reaching out to his shoulders to brace herself. "Ha, I didn't even touch it and you're melting in my hands." He had finally dropped his guard, so now she could kill him....... just as soon as she caught her breath.

 

Doing so, however, proved more challenging than she anticipated. The pressure was crippling, and the warmth and crackling of the jolts was overloading her senses. She leaned against him and rubbed at her body with both hands, trying to force the feelings out of her, but to no avail. They simply continued to build, as if stirred up by her attempts to exercise them. They filled her, head to belly, and continued to grow. Her knees buckled, and the orc removed his hands from her entirely, eagerly watching her unintended show. She paid him no mind, pressing just below her belly in an attempt to cut off the pressure's advance.

 

Those slow jolts crackled to life again as she pressed and, as they spread warmth through her belly, the pressure vanished. She froze, relief washing over her, only for the warmth to fade away again, leaving the way open for the pressure to pour in once more. Desperate, Babette pressed her fingers into her lower belly again, and was rewarded with the pressure-cleansing warmth. However, as before, it did not last but a few moments. She pressed again, harder, but this yielded a warmth that was weaker and shorter lived than the first. Her hands began to seek lower as she pressed, previously unused instincts guiding them, and the jolts became stronger. One hand continued to trace down her body in this way as the other came up to manipulate her sensitive chest, seeking to wash away the pressure there as well. As the pressure increased, it soon became that the places touched by her hands were the only ones free of it, even her hands themselves aching for release.

 

The orc laughed to himself as he watched her slowly devolve, a thrill of power sweeter than any he'd felt before filling him. With but a little prompting, he'd turned this creature, lithe and soft, into nothing more than a bitch in heat. That she clearly had no idea what was happening to her made it all the more intoxicating. He drank in the sight of her fumbling clumsily with her own body, her hand eventually finding her womanhood. Those tentative rubs along her lower lips, leading to her plunging her fingers in and out with mindless need to cum, engorged his ego and his manhood both. Now, he decided, it was time to give her what she really wanted. If he played his cards right, perhaps he'd end up with his own personal pleasure toy. If not, this was certainly a memory he'd treasure.

 

“Here.” Babette looked up at him blearily, too worked up to do much else. He waited until her focus was on him, then pulled the tie of his undercloth free. The look that seized her eyes, the way her breath caught, the twitching at the edge of her mouth....... it was better than he'd imagined it would be. Inexperienced as she was, she obviously knew the mechanics of the act, and knew just what he was going to do to her. And she wanted it.

 

Babette's mind was a haze, thick and dulled. Her first feeding had been like this, instincts pulling her along as her brain tried to process what was happening. Those instincts had kept her alive in those early days, shown her what to do and how to get what she needed. Who she got it from, what lengths she had to got to, those things had not mattered. Now, different instincts were pulling her. She had no choice but to follow them.

 

She reached out with one hand, the other still plunging its fingers into her, and touched him. First, at the base, more thick than her wrist, then upwards, along the length of the shaft. As an adult, he was obviously large to her. As an orc, he was ever larger still, easily outclassing a human. Her instincts were confused by this, as well as the many bumps and ridges along the shaft, and so pushed her to look closer. Her fingers ran over the head, building a better idea of its girth, and slid back down the shaft to reaffirm its length. Some part of her mind noticed that it was warm.

 

Her other hand immediately came up, sticky with her own juices, and wrapped around the shaft to feel the warmth. Her mouth hung open hungrily as her hands worked, rubbing and pulling and pressing against the warm, hard flesh. At first they moved independently, stroking the shaft or pressing the head without regard for what the other was doing, but the orc's moans and growls of pleasure soon had her rhythmically pumping from base to head, and back again. A thick, clear fluid began to leak from the head, both dripping to the ground and running down the shaft. Her hands were soon coated in it, quickly followed by her wrists and forearms, and she found that it was warm.

 

“How eager you are, little one.” She paid the orc's words no heed, rubbing her cheeks and face along the warm, wet shaft. The warmth was everything. She needed it, had to use it to chase away the horrible pressure. But, it was only going so far. Her skin no longer ached, at least wherever the wet warmth touched it, but the pressure on the inside refused to fade. She needed the warmth there. Needed it inside.

 

The first taste set warmth blazing across her tongue. Within moments, she was dragging it all over the head and shaft, trying to lick up every last drop of warmth. She licked it from her hands and arms, scooped it from the ground, but quickly returned to the source. She squeezed and coddled it, lapping greedily at every new dose, but it wasn't enough. The warmth was fizzling away in her mouth, never making it farther. The next step was, to her addled mind and overcharged instincts, obvious.

 

Though she opened as wide as possible, the head barely fit in her mouth. The way it bulged and rounded out, the only thing that allowed it entry was its own soft pliability. Her mouth was filled with warmth. However, she could not fit any more in, and so moved to let the head free. It remained inside. She tried opening her mouth wider, but she was already stretched to the limit. The head, it seemed, was stuck, locked behind her teeth. This was, perhaps, a problem. Idly, she let her tongue trail over the intruder in her mouth.

 

“Auh......” The orc, at least, seemed to think there was no problem at all. “None of the others came close to this....” He gripped either side of her face, bucking his hips slightly. The head moved forward ever so slightly, then retreated. And then again. And again. The fluid flowed freely, so she eagerly flicked her tongue across the head with each thrust, which only added to the intensity of the next. Soon, she was practically bouncing back and forth without pause, her mouth being driven into with a wild force that would have broken beings made of weaker stuff. This only affirmed the rapist's desire to make her a permanent toy. With her hands no longer needed, they quickly resumed thrusting between her lower lips.

 

Then, he suddenly roared, his voice straining with bestial lust. The head pulsated in her mouth, and the shaft throbbed, a new warmth racing up from the base. A new liquid filled her mouth, pouring into her throat and stomach. It was thicker than the clear liquid, and far, far more potent. The other warmth paled in comparison, and she swallowed it desperately. Her hands flew back up to the shaft, wringing and stroking it to force out more. She sucked and licked and bobbed, her cheeks and throat bulging as the orc's cum continued to flow. Though she swallowed as quickly as she could, her tiny mouth could not contain it, and the pressure forced the head out with a loud pop.

 

The cum poured down her front as she tried to fit him back inside, her mouth completely overflowing. He jerked and jumped in her hands with each thick spurt sending his seed all across her face and smearing it over her lips. Eventually when it stopped flowing, she ceased trying to drink it and merely settled for scooping up the copious amount from the ground and pouring it over her, rubbing it into her skin and spreading its warmth all over herself. And yet, though her belly was full and her skin did not ache, she was not free of the pressure. She looked him as he lay panting against the wall, still erect and warm as ever. Below her belly, she felt a jolt.

 

She wanted more.

 

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Ok, one more chapter to go. Will Babette regain her wits and complete her mission? Will she have them bonked out of her and become a toy for a pedo? Have I even decided on that yet? Find out next time, same Croc-time, same Croc-channel.