Jacob Sartorius and a Candy Shop Lovestory

Woo Buddy

"You know I didn't buy this many Twizzlers™ just because I like the rubbery taste of them, right . . ." He pauses. "Wait oh bollocks what's your name, love?"

"Oh, hey I'm Maykeighlai, nice to meet you," I state, offering out my hand, to which he shakes.

"Aw, Maykeighlai, that's such a pretty name!"

"Oh, thank you! You know, my mom actually chose the name after Lake Maykeighlai, the lake she and my dad first met at."

"Really? That's so fascinating!"

There is a short pause in which we both seem to remember where we are.

"Ahem. . . right, well, um, oh yeah anyways," Jacob's eyes darken again, "Clearly I didn't buy all of this trash candy to eat...."

I take a step closer to him. "Well, then why did you buy all of this," I say, biting my lip.

"How about I show you," He says seductively. He turns around then stops himself. "Just, a quick little side note, are you okay with all of this?"

"Oh, of course yes. Thank you for asking for my consent. Consent is important."

He goes to the back 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' room and rummages around. He emerges carrying a single brown chair.

"Sit," Daddy instructs. I do as Daddy says. My heart and vagina are racing.

Rolfy grabs 2 Twizzlers™ and ties them together. He approaches me with a dark and mysterious look in his eyes.

"Put your hands together behind your back," He commands. Again, I do so. I feel him the something around my wrists...wait, it's the Twizzler™! Damn, that boy is crafty. Next, he ties two Twizzlers™ around both of my legs.

"You're all tied up for me, baby, how does it feel?" He whispers in my ear.

"Mann, yasss papa john it feels great!"

"Well, it's about to feel a lot better bb ;)"

Jacob unzips his Justice Brothers black jeans. He slowly, tauntingly, pulls down his underwear. At first I almost don't see it, but then I leaned in closer and see it. I see Jacob's two incher staring back at me, fully erect. God, he is MASSIVE.

"Oh my god, baby, you're so big I don't know if I can take it," I moan out.

"It's okay, George Foreman Grill; baby edition, I believe in you," he states, and suddenly I feel completely safe.

Mr. Stegosaurus sensually pulls down my skirt to my ankles. He is surprised when I am wearing no underwear. Damn I'm a smart planner. He approaches me, and lines himself up to my lady crevice. He thrusts once and misses. I guess they can't all be winners you know.

"Wait, we don't have any protection," I worriedly exclaim.

"Oh, honey, yes we do." He walks back to the unattended pile of Twizzlers™ and grabs a few. He begins to wind one of them around his manliness. He does this again with the next strip of rubbery candy. And again. And again. And many more times, until his man-snake is not to be seen, but rather just a dick-shaped ball of Twizzlers™ is. He walks back over to me and lines himself up again. He thrusts once, and I feel all of the Twizzlers™ squeeze into me. I moan out in fruity pleasure. He does the same motion and begins crying.

"Oh my god, babe that was so good," He says as he pulls out of me. He is sweating up a storm, and staring at me with a tired look.

"Wait...you're....done, ALREADY?" I yell, taken aback.

Jacob's face falls. He looks sad for a few seconds, until that sadness turns to something else. Something dark. Something that makes anger look like a tame emotion. "YES, OKAY! YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE A FUCKING BITCH ABOUT IT! IT'S NOT MY FAULT I'M A QUICK PERFORMER, I'M A MUSER FOR GOD'S SAKE. I MAKE 15-20 SECOND VIDEOS OF ME BITING MY LIP, IF YOU THOUGHT THAT I WOULD BE THIS LONG ACT, THEN YOU'RE THE DUMB BITCH," He belts at me.

"Omg, Jacob, I'm so sorry, I never
meant to hurt y-" He interrupts me mid-sentence by shoving a fistful of Twizzlers™ into my mouth.

"NO MORE WORDS FOR YOU, YOU MOTHERFRICKING POOHEAD," He yells at me between voice cracks.

I struggle to get free, but the ropes are far too tight, and there are far too many Twizzlers™ in my mouth to even try to spit it out.

Just as I think the young devil boy is done, he turns back to the pile of Twizzlers™. He spends at least 15 agonizing minutes tying a bunch of the strings together, and lines them up together, almost as if he is making a. . . . Oh god, I was right, he made a whip! I struggle tremendously to try to break free from my prison of a chair as Jacob Satanorius approaches me. He raises the Twizzler™ rope, and violently swings it, the ends snapping across my face, leaving a giant gash across my cheek. I cry out a muffled screech as the demonic child raises the Twizzler™ whip again. I see the impact almost in slow motion as I witness the Twizzlers™ snapping against my bare leg. The candy breaks my fragile porcelain skin and the intense searing pain makes black spots dance through my vision.

He continues to hit and cut me, all while maniacally whispering the lyrics of his iconic pop hit, Hit or Miss. The abuse goes on for God knows how long, until finally he appears winded and drops the rope. He gives me one last look, that of sheer insanity and vengefulness, then spits in my face. The muser turns around, and struts out the doors of the candy shop.

It's all too much. The pain. The suffering. The humiliation. The shitty taste of Twizzlers™ in my mouth. My vision fades to black.