Adventures in Sugarland

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Adventures in Sugarland Page 11

by M J Marstens


  O

  CHESTER

  “And we have a princess to find,” I remind everyone.

  The tragic loss of Prince Lolli and Frosty has made us all forget about Anise.

  Is she okay?

  Is she even still alive?

  “Who did this, Nutt?” Caramello asks me, all business.

  I open my senses and let my magic track those on the beach.

  I encounter Frosty’s icy essence, and Lolland’s sweeter one, and then another’s. A familiar sweetness encasing something rotten.

  Jolly Rancher.

  “NOOOOOO, YOU BASTARD!” I shout to the heavens, remembering Anise’s words about what that monster did to her.

  As if that weren’t bad enough, apparently, he now wants her dead.

  I trace his essence heading northwest and stand up, walking after it without seeing if the others are following.

  Eventually, I come to the Marsh of Mallow.

  The others sidle up next to me, waiting to see where I’ll go next, but I’m looking for someone else. I reach out with my magic, searching for Toffy BonBon. No one knows these lands like he does. We can follow the trail to King Kandi’s castle, but Toffy makes a better guide.

  A safer one.

  “Toffy’s not here,” I comment to no one in particular.

  “Let’s hope he’s with Anise, or we’re screwed. This place is dangerous,” Plumpy says.

  “Not as dangerous as Jolly Rancher, though,” Pepper remarks and I agree.

  The bayou might be just the place to run and hide from that man.

  With any luck, she’s escaped but Jolly’s lying around somewhere, maimed, waiting for me to come finish him off.

  ANISE

  He’s close.

  I can sense him.

  Smell him.

  Hear him.

  Jolly’s taunts fill my ears and pierce my heart.

  I’m afraid.

  And not just of his clove fire.

  What if he catches me?

  What will he do to me this time?

  Is clove fire the least of my worries?

  I’m not paying any attention to where I’m running, and I trip over some roots, landing in a soggy heap in the white, sticky marsh water. The resounding splash makes my heart skip a beat. I hold my breath, hoping Jolly didn’t hear the sound, but my wish is in vain.

  I hear Jolly’s sadistic chuckle and I know he’s found me.

  Desperately, I try to get up, but the roots have tangled around me, along with the swampy water, which seems to pull me down like quicksand.

  Jolly comes into view minutes later, whistling merrily.

  “Ah, ah, ah, gumdrop, you’ve got yourself quite the little conundrum here, don’t you?” he teases me maliciously, seeing me snared tighter than an insect in a spider’s web. “Want me to help you out?”

  “Go fuck yourself,” I snarl defiantly.

  Jolly’s eyebrows raise up his forehead, disappearing into the bangs that the spill over.

  “Gumdrop, language! I’ve never heard such foul words grace your lips before!”

  “That’s because you drugged me, you bastard. And don’t act like you know me! I’m not afraid of you!”

  But that’s a lie.

  I’m terrified because I know this is the end.

  I think of my Sugarlanders that I never got to thank.

  Plumpy and his gentle manners.

  Pepper and his wicked tongue.

  Chester and his compelling magic.

  Then I think of Graham.

  I’ve been such a fool.

  I should have just told him how I felt.

  I was so scared of his rejection, but I realize now, he was going to give it regardless.

  He’s scared, too.

  Afraid for him.

  Afraid for me.

  Afraid for something that can never happen.

  Neither one of us will ever find peace if we don’t confess our true feelings, but now it’s too late.

  We’ll forever live with our guilt.

  Luckily, mine will only last a second.

  Or however long Jolly plans to toy with me.

  But the sadistic bastard surprises me when he calls a fireball to his hand.

  “This is going to hurt, gumdrop. Sorry, not sorry.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and prepare for death, when suddenly, a monstrous roar sounds behind me. The water I’m sitting in jostles and ripples around me, and my eyes fly back open, staring at the man who is about to kill me.

  Jolly’s face is a mask of fear and that has my heart racing. I turn around slowly to see a brown blob rising out of the marsh. Milky white glops of marshmallow fall off of it as the thing rears back on its hind legs. I can see its sharp claws and when it growls, row upon row of serrated teeth catch the afternoon sun that filters softly into the bog.

  The swamp monster stretches to its enormous height and then comes crashing down, sending the water rolling around me in a tidal wave, setting me free. I flop onto solid, but soggy ground, right at Jolly’s feet. Jolly raises his arm to lob a fireball at the creature, but it’s faster.

  It lunges out of the marsh, lightning fast. Scarcely comprehending what’s happening, I roll to the side, barely missing the teeth snapping towards me.

  But Jolly isn’t so lucky.

  With a ferocious snick, the thing snaps its jaws around Jolly’s arm and drags him into the bog.

  “Help! Help me!” he cries.

  Is he fucking insane?!

  There’s no way I’m helping him.

  Not only am I not going anywhere near the thing attempting to drown and eat Jolly, but I’m sure as hell not going to save his ass so he can fry mine!

  I steadily back away, ignoring his pleas.

  Are there others of these swamp beasts lurking, waiting to eat me, too?

  Deciding I’m not going to find out, I raise myself up on shaky legs and dash off on the barely discernible trail.

  I go a short distance before a shadow steps out from behind a taffy willow. The creature is tall and brown, but narrower than the swamp monster that ate Jolly. It lunges for me and grabs me with human hands. I scream, but the hand covers my mouth.

  “Shhhhh,” it whispers. “Before you alert every chocodile in the marsh that we’re here!”

  I realize it is actually man.

  His skin is a deep chocolate brown and he blends in with the swamp perfectly. I can barely make out his eyes, which are the same rich hue as the rest of him. His voice is a deep, low rumble that makes my belly do somersaults.

  “Wha-what’s a chocodile?” I ask in a breathless pant, my body finally coming down from my sugarsand high.

  I realize I’m starving and exhausted, both physically and mentally.

  “Large reptile that lives in the marsh, carnivorous predators with a keen sense of smell and sight.”

  I grimace.

  Swamp monsters, indeed.

  “Can you help me, please? I need to get to King Kandine immediately,” I implore the stranger, hoping he’s a friend, not foe.

  “Of course. I’m Toffy Bonbon. I’m a guide for these lands for the king. Kandi’s castle isn’t too far from here. We need to get moving before night settles in, though. That’s when the chocodiles become really active, along with the rest of the marsh’s beasts.”

  Toffy takes my hand and we head north.

  He makes no mention of my state of undress, for which I’m eternally thankful.

  Every so often, the marsh seems to belch and a sweetly odiferous gas diffuses into the air. With each burp, I can feel myself getting more and more lightheaded.

  Dizzy.

  “Toffy,” I call to my guide faintly.

  He whirls around to assess me.

  “Shit, I forgot I’m mostly immune to the noxious fumes. Don’t worry, tootsie. I’m going to get you out of here. Hang on tightly,” he directs, sweeping me into his arms.

  I cling to his neck as he runs as fast as he can out of the swamp. He does
n’t stop until we are clear of the dreary, overcast bog and next to a gelatinous pool. I stare at the goopy pond, wondering what fresh hell it hides.

  Toffy sets me down gently as I peer into the syrupy water.

  “Don’t get too close. That’s the Molasses Pit. It’ll suck you down faster than quicksand.”

  I take a hasty step back.

  Toffy doesn’t need to tell me twice.

  “Come on. This way.”

  Toffy takes my hand once more.

  We walk for another hour and just as the sun is beginning to set, I finally lay eyes on the Candied Castle. It glistens in the waning sunlight and my knees nearly buckle.

  Two years.

  It’s taken me two long, hellish years, but I’ve finally made it.

  Toffy ushers me into the foyer, where a servant asks our names to give to King Kandine.

  “Tell King Kandi that Toffy and. . .” he trails off, looking at me inquisitively.

  “Anise. Anise Spyse, Royal Ambassador from The Savory Citadel.”

  Toffy seems to do a double take at this, but nods his head at the servant, who rushes off to notify the king. Another servant comes forward to takes us to a room to get cleaned up and hopefully clothed, in my case.

  I’m almost giddy with relief.

  I’m finally going to speak with the king of Sugarland.

  TOFFY

  I’ve been waiting for Anise since the king sent a truffle message.

  I was expecting more than just her, though, but instead, I found her naked and running for her life from a chocodile.

  And Jolly Rancher.

  Good riddance.

  With any luck, the chocodile finished him off slowly and painfully.

  Any supporter of Maraschino is a traitor to the crown in my book, no matter how prettily he apologized to the king.

  I hold Anise’s hand and follow the servant silently, wondering what happened to Grandpa Nutt and the others. Apparently, Chester sent word to the king of Anise and her stepbrother. Kandi alerted me to be ready to guide them as soon as they entered the swamp, but something must have gone wrong.

  The servant opens a door, pointing out the bathing chamber and murmurs she’ll be back with some clothes for Anise. I thank her and shut the door softly. Awkwardly, I stand there. The woman before me is stunning, and although the last thing she needs is for some strange man to make her uncomfortable, I loathe to leave her alone.

  She looks lost and a little forlorn, standing in the middle of the spacious room.

  “Anise, are you alright?” I ask gently.

  The sound of her name seems to bring her out of her stupor. Her eyes meet mine and I watch her lower lip tremble. In two steps, I reach her and pull her to me as she unleashes her pain in great heaving sobs. Together we stand, rocking, riding out the nightmare of her memories.

  Eventually, she calms down, sniffling and hiccupping a little.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbles against my chest, blushing with embarrassment.

  “Don’t be,” I assure her, tugging her to the bed to sit down in my lap as I continue to soothe her.

  “Want to tell me what happened?” I ask, not expecting her to answer, but she surprises me when she begins her tale.

  She doesn’t start at the beginning, but rather explains how Jolly came upon her, Lolli, and Frostine. It takes me a minute to realize she’s talking about Frosty, the Malt Chief’s son. My mind reels with the knowledge these two Sugarlanders are dead.

  Now I wish the chocodile hadn’t eaten Jolly.

  His death was too kind in light of his actions.

  Anise finishes her tale and I desperately try to lighten the mood.

  “What were you and the prince doing at the beach?” I ask and then feel like an idiot.

  I’m sure any reminder of Lolli is the last thing Anise wants to think about, but again she surprises me when she smiles.

  “We were, uh, having a Sugarpop Fest.”

  I feel my brow furrow.

  “A what?”

  “I think it’s something Queen Frostine made up,” she shrugs.

  I poke her in her side teasingly until she finally explains what a Sugarpop Fest is and I instantly regret it. Her words, coupled with her soft naked body in my lap, has my dick roaring to life. I shift uncomfortably, hoping she doesn’t notice my raging hard-on.

  “It was like Lolli and Frostine were meant for one another, ya know?” Anise continues innocently, not seeming to notice my larger-than-life erection poking up underneath her. “Lolli had a fetish for licking things and Frostine wanted to be licked.”

  She laughs a little at this and I groan.

  “I’m beginning to think all Sugarlanders have fetishes. Do you have one?”

  Anise seems to realize her words too late and blushes bright red as she stammers an apology and tells me I don’t have to answer that, but I’m too keyed up to turn back now.

  “As a matter of fact, I do have a fetish,” I purr.

  “You do?” she says with wide eyes.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Well?” she demands impatiently and I chuckle at her eagerness.

  “I have a food fetish. I suppose I’m a little like Lolli, too. I love to lick sweet treats off of my women, before feasting on their decadent pussies. I especially love to lick sticky, syrupy goodness from their breasts.”

  Anise’s eyes widen and her breathing becomes erratic.

  “Well, wouldn’t you know, I’m a sticky, syrupy mess!” she says in mock astonishment.

  “Don’t I fucking know it,” I growl, eyeing her gorgeous curves glistening in gooey invitation.

  “I was going to go wash it off, but if you prefer to help me get clean. . .”

  Anise’s face is bright pink, a titillating contrast to the dirty things she proposes.

  “I thought you’d never offer,” I rejoin wickedly, turning to lay her on the bed.

  She’s spread before me, a sumptuous feast for me to gorge myself on. I waste no time in tasting her. I lave my tongue across her stomach and into the dip of her bellybutton. The marshmallow cream is a sweet contrast to the tangy flavor of her salty, sweaty skin.

  Anise trembles under my ministrations as I lick upwards and suckle one nipple into my mouth, and then the other. Her moans are music to my ears, but she hasn’t seen anything yet. After I lap up all the stickiness on her chest and stomach, I move below. I pause and nearly lose my head when I spread her legs and see her delicious pussy on display.

  I lower myself to my knees before her exposed core and go to town, slurping greedily at the tasty juices dripping from her cunt.

  Her moans are now a cross between a pant and scream.

  I splay one dark hand against the milky whiteness of her stomach, enjoying the difference; the other goes to my cock, fisting the length and stroking it. I pump my hand to the tempo of my tongue fucking her core.

  Up and down, in and out.

  Out and in, down and up.

  Her hips buck into my mouth and I know we’re so close. . .

  Suddenly, a light tap sounds at the door. I swiftly stand up, but Anise doesn’t seem too upset. In fact, she pushes up onto her elbows and then leans forward to lick the tip of my dick. Unfortunately, that’s all it takes for me to explode all over her sweet face, something I doubt she or the servant who entered were expecting.

  “Ah, um, his ah. . . his majesty will see you now. Here is ah, an outfit for my lady.”

  The servant hastily drops the clothing and backs out the door, shutting it firmly.

  I palm my face with my hand.

  Well fuck, I just blew it.

  Literally and figuratively, but Anise doesn’t seem put out if her chuckles are any indication.

  “I’m so sorry-” I begin, but she cuts me off.

  “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time this has happened to me recently,” she admits ruefully.

  Now, I’m just curious, but she gets up and walks hastily into the bathroom to get ready.

 
; Would it be ungentlemanly to follow her?

  ANISE

  My sex still throbbing with need, I beat a hasty retreat into the bathing chamber to quickly wash myself. Quite frankly, I don’t know how much more of this torture I can take. To be fair, Lolli did take the edge off. . .

  My heart gives a squeeze at the thought of Lolli.

  “Tootsie?” Toffy calls.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to meet with King Kandi. The servant will be waiting to direct you to him when you are ready. Take your time,” he tells me.

  A small part of me wants to luxuriate for hours in the bath, but a bigger portion of me knows not to keep the king waiting. And an even bigger portion of me wishes Toffy would come in here and finish what he started.

  Or maybe I should?

  No, the king is waiting.

  There will be time for a soak and touching later.

  I dry off and go fetch the clothing the servant dropped when she saw Toffy coming all over me. I lick my lips, remembering his warm, salty taste.

  I wonder what Graham tastes like. . .

  And Plumpy.

  And Pepper.

  And of course, my daddy, Chester.

  I pull on the purple dress. At first it reminds me of the one that Plumpy gave to me, but once I slip it over my head, I can see it’s vastly different. The back is modestly cut, but the front opens like a stole, covering my breasts, but reveling my sex if I make any movement.

  I scowl.

  How terribly inappropriate.

  I turn every which way, looking at my long legs peeking out from the sides, and trying to figure out how to better conceal myself.

  There’s a small gold belt to tie around my waist, but it does nothing except accentuate my small waist.

  The servant pokes her head in and I shake mine at her lack of courtesy.

  Maybe if she knocked and waited for an answer, I wouldn’t be so wound up.

  I try to swallow my irritation. It’s not fair to take my anger out on her. She’s just following orders. I slip on a pair of gold sandals and follow her out. The hallway is long and decorated with stained glass made of hard candies. Sconces line the opposite wall and hold lit candles that flicker as we pass.

  At the end of the hall is a set of large doors.

 

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