Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

Melt in your Mouth (aka Wonka's Willy)	By : puremalevolence Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 11556 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Melt in your Mouth (aka Wonka's Willy)
- 1
While the others were busy gawking at the golden goose eggs and trying to ignore Veruca Salt's incessant whining (who -cared- what that girl wanted, any how??) Mr. Wonka had somehow managed to position himself behind Violet Beuregard without her or anyone else's noticing.
"Would you like to be in on a special secret? A secret to which only select few are savvy?" His soft whispering startled her and she nearly choked on her gum. She turned to face him, an inquisitive eyebrow raised; she had no idea what on earth the strange man was talking about, but then that was nothing odd, considering she'd not understood a word of his malarkey since the tour of the factory had begun. Still, there was something oddly intriguing about it. Almost everything about him, really, including his strange taste in clothing. The coat and hat alone probably had most probably gone out of fashion somewhere in the mid-eighteen hundreds, that at least was her reckoning. He looked like a character from one of those long books that she didn't read, and his clothes were recognizable as old fashioned only thanks to the few movies and television shows she'd seen whose characters had sported similar garb. The deep red velvet coat he wore reminded her of Vincent Price--one of the only old stars she bothered herself about--and the hat...didn't Scrooge McDuck wear something kind of like that?? Strange, indeed.
"Whaddya mean?" she asked, chomping noisily on her gum, arms folded firmly across her chest, eyes peering deep into his for an answer.
At first he only smiled his queer little smile, but when she remained unsatisfied he offered a simple, "Come with me."
She took his gloved hand in her own and allowed herself to be led quietly away from the curious crowd and through a door. She very nearly protested, as Veruca's whining had just reached its pinnacle (or so she thought) and she would have so liked to give her a piece of her mind, but her curiousity had been piqued, and there seemed to be no turning back, now.
They stopped just outside the door. He released her hand, leaned against the wall opposite her and laid both hands on the black and white swirly orb that crowned his walking stick and looked her dead in the eye. He was whimsical and jovial, yes, but also very intense, almost to the point of being frightening. A most complicated character, he was unlike anyone Violet had ever met before, and even after two hours or so in his company she still wasn't quite sure what to make of him.
He simply stared at her for a time, his deep brown eyes shining out from under the brim of his hat like two of the infamous "little lights" hiding under a bushel. Then his mouth began to curve into a smile but only made it half-way there, settling instead for a smirk with hidden implications.
"So, Miss Violet," he said, lifting his head so that she could see more clearly the two pin-pricks of golden light that were his eyes. The smirk may have worried her had she possessed any wit what-so-ever, but as it was, its "hidden implications" were completely lost on her. She stared blankly back at him, her eyes which matched the colour of her name fixed upon him as though he were a living, breathing bar of chocolate. Or perhaps, more appropriately, the largest pack of gum she'd ever seen. "Having fun at my little factory?"
She nodded, completely unaware of the fact that he was slowly hypnotizing her, without benefit of the psychadelic ball affixed to the top of his cane.
"It's pretty neat," she replied, not giving it half the credit it deserved. The man noticed this straight away and clicked his tongue, scoldingly.
"Only 'pretty neat'?" he asked, a tone of mock-hurt in his voice.
"Well, I mean, it's swell and all...but where's the gum?"
The man chuckled and spun his stick round once before it came to rest on his left shoulder, perpendicular to the rest of his body. He walked the short distance to where Violet stood, hands behind her back, pressed between it and the wall, and grabbed her nose playfully and briefly between his thumb and forefinger.
"I've got something better than that," he said, the disturbingly attractive smile still spread across his smooth, pale face. He looked both youthful and old at the same time, as though he'd lived forever and a day in the body of a man who couldn't be any older than thirty. He wore his brown hair longer than most men she'd seen, and it was shiny and voluminous, prevented from bouncing to and fro only by the tall black hat he never seemed to take off. She supposed he was handsome, in his way, though there was something strange about his impish grin and the mischevious twinkle that never left his eye that would have unsettled her, had she known any better. Thankfully enough for him, she did not, nor did she share the parents' general opinion of him as not only strange but very possibly insane, completely lacking any sort of grip on reality, and therefore a bad influence. She knew he was weird, but that was about it.
"Oh yeah?" she asked, as though challenging him to prove it.
"Oh, yes. But it's -so- special, you cannot tell -anyone- about it, understand?" He pointed a finger at her and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly to emphasize the importance of the situation. She nodded dumbly, lower jaw moving like that of a cow's as she continued to chew the life out of the gum that was long overdue for its appointment with the trashbin. "Promise?" he asked, dropping his hand down from out of her face so that she could shake it. She nodded again and shook his hand, though in reality she still had no idea what he was talking about, and would have immediately lost interest after the possibility that his "surprise" had to do with chewing gum had she not been so captivated by his sparkling periwinkle eyes...wait a minute? Hadn't they just been brown a few seconds ago? Violet was not at liberty to say.
"Good," he said, smiling once again and dropping her hand. He then pulled her away from the wall, his arm coiled around her shoulder like a kind of friendly snake, his mouth a mere few centimeters away from her ear.
"Now, listen very carefully, Violet. This is what I'd like for you to do..."
+++
She'd complied to his proposition with narry a qualm, or so it had seemed. Her only concern went unspoken, and it was that she may have to remove the pale wad of chewing gum from her mouth in order to do the job, which was not something she was very sanguine about. As though having overheard her very thoughts, the man in the tall top hat laid a reassuring hand on her small shoulder and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"If you're worried about breaking your record, fear not. I won't tell a soul, but only if you promise to do the same." His eyes were like silver vats of warm fudge when he smiled and there was nothing she could do but smile back as he led her down the brightly coloured hallway to an unoccupied dark room. Violet had to practically trot to keep up with the tall man's long strides, but she never let him get too far ahead.
"After we're finished, feel free to sample the wallpaper," he called over his shoulder with a wink as they passed the fruit bedecked walls of the empty hall. "The snozzberries really -do- taste like snozzberries..."
+++
Violet shivered as the pair entered the dark room. It was like most everything in the place, shrouded in mystery, but lacking the same fun, loud quality upon which everything else seemed to thrive. She didn't like it, but Mr. Wonka's warm presence helped steady the uneasiness in her stomach. She'd always had a childish fear of dark places, which was rather apropos considering that she was herself only eleven years old.
Again, it was as though he were extracting her thoughts from her head as they were being formed. She jumped slightly at the sound of a match being struck and stared in wonder as the lightbulb (unlit and entirely free of any lamps, cords, anything at all) Mr. Wonka held in his hand suddenly came to life in a burst of bright yellow light. He'd simply touched the match to the glass bulb and voila! He set the bulb down on the floor head-up, put the flaming match in his mouth and, smiling broadly, swallowed it whole.
Violet blinked. Her little eyes had not yet adjusted to the light and she struggled to identify the dark shapes around her as objects but to no avail. She wasn't given very long to think about it, however.
"Come here, Violet," he said, having somehow seated himself in a high-backed wine coloured velvet armchair that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. But then, in a place such as that, it may very well have.
She obeyed, walking slowly and zombie-like to where he beckoned her, stopping exactly two feet from where he reclined in the plush chair. He'd removed his hat without her noticing, and it now hung from his walking stick which stood completely alone and without aid just off to his left. Violet was too stupified to even bother looking for strings. Under normal circumstances she would have surely questioned the strange defiance of physics in the annoyingly nasal way of hers, but she was hardly in the position to question much of anything at the moment. She was under his spell, and hadn't even wondered for a moment why he'd brought her to such a dark and dismal place to show her his special secret.
"A bit closer," he coaxed, curling his forefinger toward himself in the universal gesture for "come here." Again she obeyed, her arms hanging straight down at her sides, her back stiff.
"Now, get down onto your knees," he commanded gently, motioning to the patch of floor between his spread legs.
She sank to her knees slowly and without comment, barely noticing when he reached into his pinstriped trousers and pulled something out. He'd half expected her to catch on, to snap out of it at the sight of his partially erect member, but she only continued to silently chew on the rubbery gob of gum in her mouth and stare straight ahead. Good for him, bad for her. Pleased as he was that she was maintaining a certain level of unawareness, he regretted that she would definitely be losing points if things went as planned. Pity, but he knew who would end up being "the winner", anyway. Right now, he was only having a bit of fun...
"Give me that, precious," he instructed, holding his hand in front of her mouth, palm upwards.
"Huh? Oh," she said, and reluctantly pushed the gum out of her mouth with her little pink tongue. It landed smack-dab in the middle of his gloved hand. He made a fist and when he opened it, the gum was gone. Vanished. Disappeared without so much as a trace of spittle on the thin lavendar fabric where it had just been not two seconds before.
"Hey!" she cried, still completely oblivious to the stiffening cock that was scarce more than a foot away from her face.
"Don't worry," he said with the hint of a smug grin playing across his red lips. "You'll get it back when you're finished."
She had broken free of the trance, but only enough to regard him dubiously, suspicious that he would not retrieve her precious gum from wherever it had gone to, as promised. But the smile he gave her was genuine and honest and swore that he would not tell her a lie. His eyes worked their magic once again and she lapsed back into the state of half-conciousness he'd lulled her into, back in the hallway.
Without a word, he took her small hand in his and placed it upon his elongated manhood. The corners of his mouth twitched when he felt her light touch on the sensitive and frequently ignored area, his eye colour changing once again, this time from brown to a nearly pinkish hue, inspired by the full-body flush he'd just undergone. His pallid cheeks were rosy to match his eyes, making the chair and his coat appear even redder, still. He felt his face grow hot as he moved her hand slowly up and down, up and down, increasing pace very gradually, his eyes fixated forever on hers. They were placid and twinkling dully in the dim light, glazed over and fixed unwaveringly on the brooch that graced his high collar. It was almost as if she wasn't even there, so mechanical were her movements, so seemingly automatic. But that was his magic. If not for that, she surely would have protested, and the situation would have likely gotten out of hand and awkward. But as it was, everything was very calm and controlled, and he allowed himself a quiet moan as the tempo of the pumping increased.
About halfway through the deed, he released her hand and placed both of his on the arms of the chair, flat at first but gradually curling his fingers so that his nails dug into the velvet and left little tracks in the grain of the fabric. She was doing it all on her own, now, without a peep from him (aside from the occassional quiet sigh). He was impressed with how well she was doing, though it really was quite a simple job. An infant could do it. An infant practically -was- doing it, but he didn't let what little moral fiber he possessed leak into this rather depraved act. Apprehension? Guilt? Yes, he felt twinges of these things, but it was all part of the game. He was testing her, and she was failing horribly...but at the same time very much succeeding. A rather complicated affair, but then nothing is simple when it comes to Mr. Wonka.
As he neared climax, he shifted positions ever so slightly, clenching his buttocks against the cushy seat of the overstuffed chaise and curling his toes inside the confines of his black pointed shoes. He was almost there...
"Violet!" he practically shouted, his voice strained and desperate sounding. She shifted her gaze to his eyes but did not stop what she was doing. "Put your mouth on it," he ordered, his voice a bit calmer and less urgent now, but still maintaining a certain element of desperation.
At first she gave him a funny look, as if to say "why would I want to do that?" Her snotty personality very nearly overpowered the trance, but when he said, "Trust me," it was almost as though she'd been given a direct order. She obeyed, immediately.
After just a few short moments of having little more than the tip of his phallus engulfed by her sweet, sassy mouth, he felt the orgasm coming on, full-blown, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop it. He wasn't planning on stopping it.
She pulled away, almost instinctually, when she felt his hand clasp onto her little shoulder and squeeze it as though he were holding on for dear life. "No!" he cried, clenching his eyes shut just before the floodgates opened. "Swallow it!!"
He came, with a grunt and a groan and a final squeeze of her shoulder, shooting into her small mouth and down her throat, filling her head with hot...chocolate??
Violet swallowed the thick, sticky substance with a slightly puzzled look upon her young face, for what dribbled from the corners of her mouth and dripped onto her violet jumper was not the whitish salty fluid anyone else would have expected, but sweet brown nectar that tasted exactly like a bar of chocolate that had been left to melt in the sun. Of course, she didn't know the proper name for what should have come out, instead, nor anything else about it, but she was almost certain that normal men did not spew chocolate from their nether regions when sufficiently excited.
Once he'd come down from the fluffy cotton-candy cloud of post-orgasmic bliss (something that took a full five minutes, as it had been quite a while) he smiled at her and daubed at the traces of chocolate that lingered in the corners of her pretty little mouth with a gloved finger.
"Did you like it?" he asked.
She nodded but did not speak, for her mouth was still verily glued together with the sweet paste, not that he was horribly broken up about it. She was definitely preferable to Veruca, but still a first class, grade A, gimme-gimme-gimme brat. That was why she was there in the first place, wasn't it? And that was why she would lose. Oh well. She probably would have preferred a lifetime supply of chewing gum, anyway. Speaking of which...
He snapped his fingers and a familiar wad of gum appeared in the palm of his hand, just where Violet had left it.
"There you go, my sweet," he said, giving her the gum with one hand and buttoning up his fly with the other. She popped it into her chocolate-coated mouth and immediately began smacking and popping and blowing bubbles, though how she managed to do so was beyond him. That gum was as hard as a rock.
"Can we go, now?" she asked out of nowhere, startling him out of his contemplations.
"Mmm? Yes, of course," he said, retrieving his hat from it's place atop his walking stick. "But remember, Violet," he said, placing it neatly upon his head. "You can't tell -anyone-, understand? -Everything- depends upon it."
"Yeah, whatever," she said, all ready walking towards the door. It made him slightly uneasy, but he didn't worry too much. She probably didn't even remember anything before getting her beloved gum back, silly child. But the world was full of silly children, and where would Mr. Wonka be without them? No matter. She wouldn't be with them for much longer, or so the funny little feeling he had portended.
As he rose slowly and gracefully from his velvet chair, he spotted a solitary brown glob on the otherwise spotless floor. He knew immediately what it was; some of his product that had managed to escape Violet's greedy little mouth and plop to the floor. He bent at the waist, scooped it up with a lavendar-clad finger and put it in his mouth.
"Waste not," he muttered to himself, licking his lips as he walked toward the door.
On his way out of the room, he stooped down and picked up the illuminated bulb from the tiled floor. With a swift puff of air from his lips, the light was extinguished and the room was once again pitch black.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Melt in your Mouth (aka Wonka's Willy)