Candy

I never would have thought of working at a candy store. Generally speaking, candy shops are operated by sixteen year old girls with baby-like faces and cute hairstyles. Being eighteen and male, it didn’t seem like an appropriate place for me to work. However, as July wore on and I still didn’t have a job, I decided I’d just have to take what I could get; I really didn’t want to start my freshman year of college penniless.

I hadn’t been to that store since I was in elementary school; as I approached, I couldn’t help but notice how much smaller it seemed. I remembered the last time I had been in there in fifth grade, when my friends had dared me to steal a handful of candy canes. I thought I had gotten away with it, but when I got home-hands and face covered with stickiness-it turned out the cashier had seen and recognized me, and called my mom. I sure got thrashed for that one.

Snapping myself back to the present, I stood on the sidewalk and looked in through the windows. Man, I had forgotten how much stuff they had in there! Just through one window, I could see saltwater toffee, fresh caramel, boxes of mint fudge. Breathing in, I could pick up the faint smell of chocolate even from outside. I don’t eat much junk food (being on the high school swimming team means you need to keep in shape), but I have always had a sweet tooth that I frequently have to repress. Right now, it was practically begging to come out. I sighed, looking wistfully at the boxes of fudge. Maybe working here would be more complicated than I thought.

I tore my eyes away from the window and entered. As soon as I was inside, the smell of a thousand types of candy hit me like a sugarcoated meteorite. The fudge smelled so rich and thick, and the cinnamon drops so hot. The shop was packed with jumbled heaps of cases and jars full of bright, colorful merchandise that was almost dizzying to the eye. Damn, this place made me feel like a little kid again. I reminded myself that I was here to work, not shop; I didn’t have the spare change to waste on junk food. Acknowledging this fact was torture, but I forced myself to swallow it. All the same, as I made my way toward the register, I hoped that they offered freebies to their employees. Even a state swimming champ needs to cave in once in a while.

I walked to the back of the shop, and immediately my eyes were seized by something else.

No fucking until the next chapter.

...


“Your bum’s a brilliant red,” she commented, standing a few feet behind me. “Like rose petals. Well, you’ve been standing there long enough. Go on, before I feel tempted to use your belt.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I picked up my underwear and pulled it gingerly over my flaming backside, hissing in pain as the tight briefs squeezed my ravaged cheeks. She giggled as she watched me struggle with my clothes.

“Here,” she said as I managed to get my sandals back on, “don’t forget this.”

She handed me a blank application.

“Bring that back soon, and I’m sure we’ll hire you…so long as you keep your hands out of the candy bin. Off you go.”

She slapped me across the butt one last time, grinding my rough jeans into the enflamed skin. I ran home as fast as my blazing ass and rigid dick would allow me to move. Stumbling, still coughing on tears, perfume, and chocolate fumes, I barreled my way home.

The first thing I did when I got there was dash to my room and knead my manhood until I came. As I sprayed my seed across the bed sheets, I felt the fumes and drowsiness leeching out of me. Lying in the aftermath of the orgasm, buttocks still full of red hot needles, I found that I could think normally again. It was like waking up from a dream.

That night, I laid down on my bed (stomach down, of course) and filled out the application. I wasn’t quite able to believe what had happened that day, but my smoldering, angry red butt was more than proof enough. I wondered if I had the courage to show myself in that store after that. How would I be able to work alongside that sadistic, beautiful redheaded bitch after this?

Before I went to sleep (still on my stomach) I found myself thinking about the exposed thighs and hidden breasts of the Scottish girl, and heard her sultry giggle in my ears. I had to masturbate again before I could sleep.