tagMind ControlCandy-Coated Damnation

Candy-Coated Damnation


This is a submission for the Halloween Story Contest, so please do remember to vote right after reading so my story can be eligible! I'm a bit in-under-the-wire, you see—got caught up in this one!

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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?"


"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?"


"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 nineteen or twenty, 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.



"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—"


"—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."


"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.'"


"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.




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.




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?"


"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...

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byGigglingGoblin© 8 comments/ 38913 views/ 63 favorites

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