Chocolate

Chocolate.

He was thinking about Ice as he walked down the street. She had been on the rink the first time he’d seen her. The ice skater had been lovely, a real work of art and the results had lasted far longer than Fire.

Fire had been good too, but over so quickly. Water had bored him and now he wanted a new subject, something removed from the elements.

Chocolate was walking out of the newsagents when he saw her. He stood watching transfixed; he’d found his girl.

She had the chocolate bar in her hand, already had it half open as she crossed the threshold of the shop. Her eyes saw only the treat that she held, they shone with a greedy desire. The wanton passion for chocolate was there exposed, raw and on display for any observant passer-by to witness.

In her haste she broke off three and a half squares, it hadn’t broken evenly on the seam and she had to open her mouth wide to cram the awkward shape in. She took it down in four rapid bites and a swallow. She didn’t savour the taste or take the time to appreciate what her body was feeling as the chocolate barely had time to begin melting on her tongue, it was just need and need sated.

As she swallowed she already had the next piece half way to her opening mouth. He was close enough to her to see the discolouration of chocolate in the pinkness, brown against uneven white teeth. Her eyes closed in ecstasy just for the merest second, an elongated blink.

“Oh baby,” he breathed quietly, “you are going to be one dirty bitch for me, aren’t you?”

His mind was already racing ahead to what he was going to do with Chocolate, how he would manipulate the medium and present it to her best advantage. The stalking and hunting was fun, the challenge of the wooing a buzz, but the week that followed was a ball ache. He had to take the fat bitch out, be seen with her in public while at the same time always being careful to pick anonymous restaurants where they wouldn't be either recognised or remembered. The scene setting was important and this lull-in-the-middle time gave him ample opportunity to collect what he'd need for his work. The most distasteful part of the process was fending off her awkward and obvious attempts to make him have sex with her. It was disgusting but a small price to pay for his work. After three dates she was virtually dripping for it. He smirked at her across the candlelit table.

“What? What?” she giggled pathetically, swishing her hair away from her swollen pig-like features, “What's funny?” She ran her fat finger tip around the rim of her wine glass, tilting her eyes up at him from under the lids, trying and failing to look sexy and seductive. She had a smudge of pasta sauce on her chin. She disgusted him. He smiled back forcing his eyes to soften.

“Nothing, I just can't believe that I've found you, that's all. You're so....so ..perfect, Chocolate.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? I like it, it's cute? You're cute.” Her cheeks flushed pink with pleasure. She licked her lips, just missing the smear of sauce. Her piggy nondescript eyes screamed out to him, take me home and fuck me.

He covered a second smirk, it was ironic that this very raw wanton need was what had brought them together. What was so perfect for his work was at the same time what made her repugnant as a human being.

“I call you Chocolate because you're warm and rich and so, so gorgeous that I want you so much, just like chocolate. Will you come back to my house with me tonight? I want to make you feel special. I have been waiting for this night... for you.” He reached across the table and took her hand, “I wanted to wait until it was right for us, darling. Tonight, the restaurant, you,” he swept his hand dramatically to demonstrate what he was saying, “It's all just right.” He was careful with his expression, he was an artist and did everything correctly but he needn't have bothered with her, she didn't have the intelligence to differentiate sincerity from bull shit.

He hadn't expected it to be so easy to restrain her. He'd stripped her slowly, covering her face, her neck, her full breasts with half hearted kisses. He didn't feel revulsion, he was distracted, working. He'd have fucked her first if he'd had to to make her compliant but it was unnecessary. He deftly kept her hands from the front of his pants, playfully swiping her away, murmuring into her ear, “Soon, my love, soon, patience, let me please you first.” She shivered and pressed her mountainous flesh against him. She found his mouth with hers, like a baby looking for its mother's tit, open, wet, searching for its target. She was trying to grind her pelvis into his groin. Hiding the fact that he wasn't aroused wasn't difficult her belly prevented any below waist contact. He ground his mouth onto hers and simulated ragged breath, while he continued to plan, to mentally position and posture.

His timing was perfect, the seduction had been drawn out just long enough for him to hear the first bubble plop. He produced the hand cuffs first. At the very least he'd expected to have to persuade her, even if physical violence hadn't been necessary. She couldn't have been easier.

She giggled, “Oooh, you are naughty, I've never done anything like this before. Where do you want me?”

“Lie down on the bed, my darling. I promise I'll be gentle with you.” She let him take first one wrist and then the second and fasten them securely to the bed-head. A flash of worry crossed her face when he produced the ankle restraints. He kissed her ulcerated ankle softly. The distinct aroma of sweaty crease filled bacteria filled his nostrils but any revulsion he'd felt during the earlier seduction had now left him. He was focused and this was just putting into position the canvas that he was about to work on. Whether it smelled of linseed or sweat was irrelevant.

“What's that noise?” she asked as the sound of the bursting bubbles increased.

“Wait and see, you'll love it.”

She giggled again but this time with just a hint of nervousness. He brought over the trolley and positioned it beside the bed. She watched as he laid out a selection of brushes and the funnel. “What are you doing? What's going on? David? I don't think I like this.”

“Relax, my love. This is going to be perfect. Just lie back and enjoy, I'm going to take you to places that you've never been before.” He took the time to kiss her relaxing her again under his will, melting her like chocolate.

Leaving her briefly to go to the kitchen he brought back the fourteen pint stock pot filled with boiling chocolate. The sickly sweet smell filled the room, thickening the atmosphere and stealing the air. He felt his cock twitch in his pants. Work and sex, sex and work where did one begin and the other end, he asked himself as he mentally examined this new stirring inside him, usually he didn't become around until the tableaux was complete. This one was going to be special. This was his best piece yet.

He put the vat of chocolate onto the trolley carefully. Her eyes were darting nervously from the huge pan to his face. Perhaps she saw mania burning in his eyes because she tested her restraints, “This is getting a bit scary, David, can't we just ... you know... have sex, like normally.”

He silenced her with a long kiss, sliding his hand from her throat to search out her hard nipple in the mound of her squishy breasts. She was soon moaning into his mouth and flexing her hips towards him. It didn't matter now, she could scream and struggle all she liked, she wasn't going anywhere but it would be easier if she played along with him.

He took a pastry brush, dipped it into the chocolate and wafted it in the air, teasing her with it, watching as her eyes followed the brush. His movements were swift and deft, lulling her into his playful mood while in reality he was only cooling the chocolate so that it didn't burn her. Being an attentive lover he tested the temperature on his own lips first. The chocolate was still warm and fluid would wouldn't blister or burn the sensitive flesh of her mouth. He dabbed the brush onto her lips. As expected her tongue flashed out, reptilian and repulsive as it sought out the bitter sweetness of the dark chocolate. He took the brush from one side of her mouth to the other, overspilling the formation of her lips covering her nose and lower mouth, darkening her face. He dabbed again, wafting as she licked greedily, then he gently forced the brush between her lips and into her mouth, he spilled the chocolate from the brush into her mouth being extra gentle careful not to overload or choke her.

He covered her mouth with his and ground his face against hers. Tongue to tongue they grounds transferring chocolate and saliva. It repulsed him but he didn't gag. He collected a mouth full of the fluid and spat it slowly over her breasts. David, the artist surveyed his utensils, he chose a five inch paintbrush with horsehair bristles. He dipped, wafted and drew the brush from the cleft in her throat, across her breasts and down over her loose skinned belly. He filled her navel and bent instantly to lick the pool from the broad hole, while she quiverred and trembled.

He dabbed, only gave a couple of cooling wafts and quickly brought the brush loaded with hot chocolate to her genitals. She screamed out, writhed her hips into the air towards his face and as he lowered his head to her pussy she let the collected breath out on a hiss of chocolate scented air. He licked into her expertly, aware of how to please a woman. She writhed and bucked beneath him, thrashing against the restraints, in her ecstasy. She was only half aware of the chaffing that grazed her skin. As he licked, he felt the chocolate on his face and in his hair drying, stiffening his skin. The scent of it was overpowering. He needed to breath but the woman was coming into his mouth, clenching her huge thighs hard against his face, holding him and yelling into the night. She bucked hard during her orgasm grinding her quim into his face and taking selfishly of her pleasure until the power of the orgasm faded.

She wilted, smiling seductively. “Your turn, come on, let me make you feel good, baby.”

“All in good time, Chocolate, let me just show you one more trick. I think you'll like it.” He worried for a second that the liquid in the vat might have cooled, that it would have thickened too much to flow through the funnel. He needn't have been concerned as he stirred it steam rose from the depths of the pan and infused the air anew. She moaned, dizzy with the heady aroma and floating in the afterglow of her orgasm.

She opened her legs willingly as he inserted the funnels pipe into her vagina. She gave one of her simpering giggles again, “Oh, kinky boy, oh yes, bring it on. This is making me so horny.”

He shut out her words, he didn't want to hear her speak. Her dirty talk left him cold.

To lift her hips so that the funnel would empty into her in the right direction he inserted a large foam wedge underneath her. Manoeuvring her he felt the sweat that she'd released around her hips and buttocks slick over the palm of his hand. He wiped it against his pants and smiled at her encouragingly. “Hurry,” she moaned, “hurry baby, fill me up with all that lovely hot chocolate and then plunge your cock into me, I want to feel it slopping against the chocolate.” Obviously the stupid bitch had worked out what was about to happen, didn't she have any idea about the boiling temperature of chocolate, he wondered. He picked up the two litre pan from the bottom shelf of the trolley and filled it swiftly. In a single deft movement he poured it from the pan through the funnel and into the bitch.

Now she was screaming in earnest. He heard the flesh inside her sizzle as the almost boiling chocolate seared and scarred her. He heard blisters fill and pop. Splatters of the brown fluid covered him as she thrashed from side to side. “You said you wanted it hot, baby, is it warm enough for you?”

Her eyes were wide, popping, filled with horror. He wanted to capture and contain that look before she passed out and he had to move quickly. Pulling the funnel from her genitals he forced it hard into her wide screaming mouth. He scooped poured and watched as the chocolate emptied into her mouth.

He didn't think it was possible for her eyes to open any wider than they already were but as she gagged and chocked gargling on the thick liquid they did. The chocolate flowed more slowly though the funnel now as the coating that dried along the sides of the plastic dried and thickened. He continued to pour the chocolate into the funnel opening and though it was slower it still poured into her, escaping around the edges to spill out of her gorged mouth and down her throat.

He removed the funnel after three pans of chocolate had passed through it. She was covered, they both were. The hole in the funnel was almost completely blocked now. He upturned it and emptied what was left of the fluid onto her upper torso. He watched fascinated as she tried to dislodge the thick chocolate from her throat. Life was leaving her now. The chocolate had closed her airway and was setting. Only a small fountain still bubbled and erupted in the pool within her open mouth. Chocolate had set around her teeth and jaw preventing her from closing her mouth properly. David thought that she was truly beautiful, being one with the chocolate had made her lovely.

He took the largest paint brush filled it liberally, wafted once, he didn't want to scorch out her eyeballs. He needed them protruding to create the desired effect, it would be wrong if they were depicted as popped and empty orbs. Her heart stopped beating just before he brought the brush lightly across her staring eyes, leaving a trail of thin chocolate covering.

Now that she was a still canvass he could work easily. He released the wrist and ankle restraints and posed her, trying her limbs this way and that until he was satisfied with the image.

He returned the vat of chocolate to the heat. He had all the time in the world to make it perfect now. He sat on a wooden stool smoking a cigarette slowly and surveying his work in progress. As he looked at her his cock grew large and pushed against his jeans. He wanted to masturbate now, but fought the urge for release, he had to work charged and full of passion and energy, alive, the power surging within him as his hard on strained for release..

He worked through the night, painting every inch of her. Sometimes, dissatisfied he'd let some of the surface chocolate dry and then chip it off, re coating it a second time to get just the thickness or texture needed to let the form beneath reveal itself. He loved that there was no blood in this piece. Too often his chosen medium to paint in was blood. This was pleasing because it evoked similar emotions as the blood did. Chocolate was a pleasing change, it flowed and it set just like blood, it dried a different colour and it morphed and altered as he worked just like blood. It was similar to him but at the same time altogethert different.

When he came to her hair he lifted her head and flattened the hair out behind her head. He covered her face with a mask and threw panfuls of chocolate randomly and aggressively at her honey blond hair. He appreciated the effect as the hot chocolate textured and tortured the hair, drying, stiffening and forming caked peaks that rose when he tweaked and teased them 3D from the work.

He laboured until Chocolate was finished ... perfect. Afterwards he photographed the completed piece for his portfolio. He masturbated carefully releasing his leakage into a sandwich bag, careful not to leave any detrimental evidence in the anonymous flat.

It didn't matter who found her, how she was found or who would see what he'd done. He didn't work for other people or for profit. He worked only to satisfy the passion inside him.

As morning painted over her own bleak canvas with weak sunshine he walked away with nothing but the clothes that he wore, his camera and a knotted plastic bag swinging from his left hand.