Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2007 03:08:15 -0400
From: Edward Rivera <majalistic@gmail.com>
Subject: Candy Apple - Part 3 (TG)

	The second the door had closed behind me, I felt Creavy pushing my
shoulder strongly, and I lost my balance for the third time that night.  I
fell forward, and grabbed wildly at the air, and managed to catch myself on
the vertical metal bars that made up the tail end of the bed that I now saw
in front of me.  I was bent over, and managed to keep my footing, but
before I could use the bars to pull myself up, a hand pressed down on my
small, forcing me to arc my back, and I looked over my shoulder at Creavy,
who was wild-eyed.  Already, I felt the tingle in Candy's package, and I
started to point towards the floor.  For a second, there was a glimpse of
hope, that I might be able to fight him off now that I was alone, but
Creavy was no weak man, and I was exhausted from the effort.  Creavy was
going to have one more round in me before the night was through.  My ass
was sore, and my legs were shaking.  I could barely stand.

     "So, was it worth it?" he said, putting a finger to the place on my
panties that was now moistest.  He pushed a bit, and I felt my hole give
way, even through the underwear.  Him and I both knew I was lubricated more
than enough.

     "Was what worth it?"

     He slapped my ass with a sticky hand; I was sure he'd already
"dressed" up himself.  We were going to have sex, he was going to fuck my
ass, and he wanted me to know it before we started.  Consent by submission.

     "Teasing us, like that.  Did it work out like you planned?"

     He moved the drenched fabric aside a bit and, careful to make me feel
it, put his finger inside.  It wasn't rough, but it was determined.  I
moaned softly, and tried to think of baseball.  "Do you like that, Candy?"

     Every time someone called me Candy, my heart raced.  I bit my lip to
suppress another moan.

     "Candy, I'm talking to you!" he said, slapping my ass again with his
other hand.  All the while, his finger kept moving slowly, up, and in, and
out a bit.  I knew it was fake but it felt like affection, and for that, I
did like it.

     "It's okay..." I tried to sound neutral, but it's difficult to sound
dispassionate when someone's softly prodding your innards.  Instead, it
sounded like "it's okay, but I want more!"

     Creavy was beside me now, his hand reached around behind me to
continue what he was doing.  He eyed me over.  I must have been quite the
sight, standing there, bent over, with a tent in my panties.  He wiped off
his other hand, and started to rub my belly.  I nearly screamed out.  Of
all the things that had happened to me that night, this, for some reason,
was the most humiliating.  It was even worse than the nameless man and his
"prom night" routine.  Creavy wanted me to feel like his nubile young
girlfriend.  His hand occasionally roamed towards the tent, reminding me
that I was a boy, and that just made it worse.  I could have stood up at
any point, his hand now no longer holding me down, but I didn't, and I
can't really explain why.  Creavy took his hand off my tummy and placed it
on my neck.  He stroked where an adam's apple should have been.  That
seemed to please him.  It was driving me insane.

     Creavy was playing around with that finger of his and I was making
eyes at him, for whatever reason.  Eventually, he started to ask me
questions.

     "What's gonna happen to you, Candy?"

     "I'm gonna get fucked in the ass," I said, trying again and failing to
sound disinterested.

     I twitch.

     "Why?"

     "Because I've got a cute butt, apparently."

     I twitch.

     "Where you gonna catch my load?"

     "In my belly."

     There is a single string of precum that is working its way towards the
floor, having permeated the tent.  A single bead on that strain glimmers in
the dim light from the window, where a streetlight is out of sight.

     "Am I going to need to clean the carpet?"

     Definitely.  "Yep."

     He removes the finger, and runs his other hand up my neck, across my
cheek, and then he rubs my belly one last time.  He stands up, and walks
behind me.  I don't move.  I hear the belt buckle, and then pants,
crumpling to the floor.

     He holds the panties out of the way and presses himself to the now
slightly open hole.  He asks one, final question before he begins the
ordeal.

     "Are you a girl?"

     "Now I am."

     There's more than one bead of precum now.

     He doesn't have a hand guiding him this time, just a hand on each hip,
each cheek.  He thrusts forward a bit and I hear the pop as he enters, and
I think "look mom, no hands."  I look around, but we're alone in the room,
but I'm still horribly embarrassed.  Maybe there is a boy still watching
us, after all.  I moan like I'm in heat as he pushes forward, and I'm
rising to my toes, gripping the metal bars tight to keep myself from
falling over.  His hips touch my ass and I do nearly topple, so I try to
balance myself back on my heels, and, in doing so, bury him in me.  Again,
I yelp.

     He slaps my ass.  He starts to thrust, get into a rhythm, and I wobble
on my heels.  It's difficult to stand up, but it's also difficult to see
straight; I had forgotten how massive he was.  With no visual reminder,
this time, all I have to go by is the expansive intruder in my rectum.

     And he knows my weakness.  Again and again, he asks, "Candy, how's
that feel," or "How is it, Candy?" or even "Candy, you all right up there?"
to which I reply "I'm fine," "it's okay," "that's all right."  I look to
the right, and what do I see, but a mirror.  A full body mirror, and it's
huge.  It's not hung up, it seems to be gathering dust, just laying against
the wall, but in it reflected I can see myself and Creavy.  I can even see
his cock, as he pulls it out, and then it disappears, back inside of me,
mashing up my insides, I assume.  I see Creavy staring at my ass, and his
hands roam around, and I feel proud to be Candy, and have her ass.  I push
back once or twice and he throws his head back, but I don't do that again
because it makes him feel even bigger than he is.

     It goes on for minutes, and my legs start to give out.  Creavy wraps
his hands around my thighs and supports my weight.  Once both hands are
firmly in place, he starts to thrust in deep, small thrusts, and starts to
almost chant. "Cum!" "Candy, cum!"

     I feel it building, and the beads are now marching down the string,
puddling on the floor, but I hold it in, as I don't want to cum on Creavy's
order.  Creavy says "damn it Candy, cum!  Now!" and goes balls deep, and
moves around and that depth, his hands moving around my ass, my legs, the
inside of my thighs, and the small of my back.  I moan, and shake hard, and
hold it in, and then I feel it; he smacks my ass, and it stings, so he
starts to rub it, to sooth it, and I feel like he almost regretted it.  As
a way of thanking him, I guess, my sphincter grabs on to him, one last
time, and that feeling makes it impossible to hold back any more.  In a
second, the panties front are as messy as the back, and the cum dribbles
down to the floor, and Creavy doesn't even need to check for it, he just
goes off on his own.  He blows his wad inside me without a word, filling up
my ass, and spanks me once, twice.  My butt is out of control, squeezing
and relaxing, tensing and shivering.  He finishes up, pulls out, and puts
the panties back into place.  For once, I get to keep a load to myself, as
he grabs me around the underarms and pulls me up into him, and I feel his
erection still in between my cheeks.  My legs go out, and before I crumple
to the floor, he picks me up, and carries me over to the bed, where he
drops me into the sheets.  It's comfortable.

     "You'll sleep here tonight.  Your bathroom's right there.  Enjoy your
shower, miss," he says, grinning, "I hope you enjoy your stay at Hotel
Creavy."

     I smile for a second, but don't let him see it.  "Good night," I say,
to make him leave.

     "Good night, cutey butt," he says, pinching my ass, but I'm too tired
to react.  As he walks out of the room, I hear him say, "see you in the
morning, Candy."

     It takes me a while to work up the strength, and I walk, in heels, to
the bathroom, before I sit on the toilet to take them off.  I'm about to
empty the load into the toilet, when the idea seems strange to me, so I
start a warm shower and relax in there, Creavy's load still boiling in my
butt.  I let my hair down, and shower off all the make-up.  I lean out of
the shower to look in the mirror, and surprisingly, I still look rather
female.  The soap is fairly expensive stuff, which is surprising, and I
wonder whose room I'm in.  After I finish the shower, I put my hair back up
into pigtails, and look in the wardrobe for clothes.  I decide on an
oversized white shirt with large, billowed sleeves, and a pair of plain,
white panties, as there are no boy shorts in there.  I return to the bed,
and it is very soft and comforting, and it always feels nice to sleep in
someone else's home.  That, and my newfound levels of exhaustion, lead me
to drift off almost immediately, though it isn't long before I feel that
familiar rumbling in my tummy.  I'm too tired, and too comfortable, to
move, and so the gooey mass oozes out rather quietly into my otherwise
pristine panties.  It doesn't feel too discomforting, and is actually warm,
so I don't mind too much.  Adventurous and finally alone, I dip a finger
into the white, hot liquid and put a finger to my lips.  No one will ever
know.

     It forced me to think of what would happen now.  I'd have to explain
something to my parents in the morning.  If Creavy wanted to, he could
easily keep me in his house.  I didn't know if I'd be able to return to
school, even if he did let me, for fear that someone will find out.  They
had video, even stuff of me, as Candy, creaming myself.  That's pretty
indicting.

     And what did it mean?  Was I Candy now?  Is that how it was going to
be?  I dressed for the occasion, and I guess I got what I was asking for.
I can kind of understand why they did it, too, though I don't think I'd
have sex with a boy, no matter how good he looked.  Or at least, I wouldn't
have before.  Before I was Candy.

     I tried to avoid thinking of Mr. Virgil, and his mocking voice,
"Ms. Apple."  Apple for teacher.  Hilarious.  I might as well have picked
the surname "Cumdump."  How could I have been so naive?  I'd probably have
to wake up now to sex and breakfast with Creavy, and at night...  Another
round with the peanut gallery.

     I started to imagine the things that they might do to me, the things
that I might have done to a girl, but I shake that thought off too.  I
tried to sum up what I'd learned.  How to hide my teeth during oral, how to
take control when they wanted it, so they wouldn't take it back.  It was
better to be the one making the motions, for my ass, but not for my pride.
I couldn't tell if I preferred the impersonal, Creavy approach, or the more
intimate, and ultimately embarassing, legs up/bottoms out position.  I
didn't want to think about sex anymore, so I decided to think what I'd have
for breakfast.

     Eggs, maybe. Bacon. Cock.

     No good.  I can still taste semen on my tongue.  I can even picture
myself, wide-eyed, as some guy hugs my head and feeds me dinner.  It's no
use.  I just have to sleep.

     Little did I know that a plan had been set in motion.  Creavy had more
for me than I had wished for, much, much more.  And Virgil wasn't nearly
finished with his pet student.  Candy wasn't just the servicable
babysitter; soon enough, she'd be the convenient place to leave a secret
load that your girlfriend wouldn't take for anyone within walking distance.

     And slowly, my world, Candy's world, would close in around me.

     And so I drift off to sleep, with Creavy's load of spunk warming my
tush, still bubbling from my well-used ass.  In the morning, I'll wake, and
it'll all have been a dream.

     I hope.


End Part 3, Chapter 1