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Cravings	By : Idolhands Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 9784 -:- 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-Cravings
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 1
- 2
Title: CRAVINGS
By: Idol Hands
Rating: R (for themes)
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are not my property but that of the estate of R. Dahl, Tim Burton, Freddie Highmore and Johnny Depp. However, my sick imagination belongs to my demons and I.
Warning: Chan/under-aged boy, prostitution, M/M Slash situations, D/S, really dark fiction.
Summary: What would you do if your desires couldn’t be ignored anymore, but you didn’t want to hurt the one that you loved? How about something that rhymes with ‘substitute’?
REVIEWS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED! THEY ARE THE ONLY PAY-BACK THAT I GET FOR THE INSANE AMOUNT OF EFFORT AND THOUGHT THAT GOES INTO MY WRITING. I DON'T MIND IF YOU ADD ONE LONG AFTER I POSTED THIS. LONG ONES ARE LOVED, BUT SHORTER ONES ARE EQUALLY APPRECIATED.

Money really could buy anything.
That fact becomes obvious when one sees the form of the frail boy who stands only a few feet away from Mr. Wonka. They stood silently examining each other in the main hallway of the factory. The waif-like child had only glanced briefly into the cold, dark violet eyes of the man who owned the colossal structure. There was darkness underneath all of that beauty, a strange distance in that gaze. Instinctually, he knew that he didn’t like this fanciful man. Despite the warm temperature of the cavernous room, the boy shivered.
Mr. Wonka smiled at this, revealing his all-too-perfect teeth.
“He’s just as you requested.” Stated the man who had delivered the youth. The other man in the room was tall, had a shaven head, a jagged scar above his lip, a broad chest, muscular tattooed arms, and wore clothes suitable for a biker bar. He looked nothing like a person who should be in charge of children. Then again, perhaps neither did Willy Wonka.
“Indeed.” Replied Wonka. His eyes stayed down-turned, examining the boy who refused to look at him. The child was of the approximate correct age, reached the height of his own chest, was malnourished, had fair skin, slightly overgrown chestnut hair and…
“Make him look at me.” Wonka’s voice was smooth but commanding. There was a falsetto to its timber, which might suggest that there was a kindness to him, but somehow it struck one as mechanical instead, as did his every movement inside those perfectly tailored clothes. The boy’s eyes fell on the long cane that Wonka was slowly twisting by its top. He noticed that that the lavender glove matched the man’s eyes and that it was made of latex. The child’s small heart started to beat faster with anxiety. What had his Keeper sold him to?
The man nudged the boy’s back. “He owns you now, listen to him.” Slowly the child raised his eyes. They were a lovely shade of hazel green and quite large, perhaps the plain-looking child’s best feature.
“Oh, Very nice.” Willy Wonka’s voice had gone slightly breathless and distant.
Now the child forced himself to fix his eyes onto the man’s face, afraid to look away. He started at the tall wide-brimmed satin top hat with it’s double layered hat-band trim, working his way down, he studied just the structure of his new owner’s face. It was strong, yet beautiful; sculpted cheekbones, chiseled nose, and a square jaw. His hair had been shaped into a perfect bob. The cut ended just at the sides of that strong jaw, below his ears, covering them entirely. Not a single hair was out of place. Each and every one of the man’s chocolate-colored strands gently flipped toward his face, creating a single, delicate curl on either side. The confection maker’s skin was like porcelain, accenting his red-stained lips, and dark arched eyebrows, there was delicate shading around his eyes that could’ve been natural or enhanced. The boy couldn’t help but be reminded of a vampire from books and movies that he had seen. He certainly felt like he was being drawn into those intense, glimmering eyes. Eyes that made promises you wished they wouldn’t keep.
“Don’t look so scared, little boy.” He leaned slightly down towards the petrified youth, placing both hands on his cane for support. “We’re going to have lots of fun today.” The voice seemed especially gentle and his cheeks pushed up the skin under his eyes when he smiled. Despite an entire lack of color, the face suddenly seemed warm.
The boy very, very hesitantly returned the gesture with a small smile of his own.
“He doesn’t have dimples.” Came the sudden, and disappointed sounding, response.
The slim boy was finally released from Wonka’s hypnotic gaze as the chocolatier turned up his head to focus on the child’s Keeper. The child took the chance to also look at the man who had brought him to this desolate place. It was a pleading look and he shook his head nearly imperceptibly. He tried fruitlessly to telepathically communicate his thoughts to his ill-suited guardian.
{It’s not too late.}
{We could call off the deal and just go home.}
{Oh please, oh please, I don’t like this strange man!}
The large man shrugged, it seemed a response to them both.
It was an awful lot of money, the boy reminded himself.
The bald man retorted with, “I don’t think you’ll find one closer to your description and I’ve trained this one myself. I promise that he won’t give you any trouble. He does everything he’s told. He’s very obedient.”
Wonka put a hand to his jaw and looked at the child again. He noticed the child’s fear, the slight swelling of water in his eyes and gentle upturning of his slim eyebrows. An intense feeling swept over him: the very same one that had compelled him to spend so much valuable time to make this rather unique arrangement in the first place. He couldn’t wait any longer and the word ‘obedient’ rang in his mind. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, momentarily overwhelmed by emotion.
“You’ve talked me into it.” Mr.Wonka coolly responded, opening his eyes. Then with more enthusiasm accented his decision, “It’s a deal! He raised his hand into the air, without looking away from them, and flicked his hand. A small, quick scurrying sound could be heard a few yards behind the pair. They both turned but saw nothing other than a glass suitcase that had not been there seconds before. The crystalline object was filled to the brim with neatly wrapped piles of fresh paper money and one large chocolate bar. Wonka just couldn’t resist.
The boy fought off his tears and his doubts. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Then he turned back around to look at that cane again, those perfectly polished glossy boots, the form-fitted leather pants with the complicated opening device, the long chains that came from the matching leather vest and led to god-knew-what. He had been loaned to many people, but never anyone quite like this. He remembered that his Keeper had said the interested buyer was someone who made candy. The boy had been excited at the time. How evil could a man who made candy be?
“I’ll return for him at the arranged time.” Stated the Keeper. He had already walked the distance to pick up the transparent suitcase.
“And he shall be here waiting for you.” Wonka answered waving goodbye to the man with a slow motion of his free hand, the other hand crossing its fingers over the top of his cane. Sebastian was too busy watching the other man leave to notice.
“Just be careful on your way out, ‘kay? Make sure you take the exact same path ‘out’ as you did ‘in’. My factory can be a most dangerous place.” Mr. Wonka warned. He had certainly not let them in through his front gates: that would have been too risky, even in the middle of the pitch-black night. They were permitted access through one of the countless secret passages that led inside and around the staggeringly complex facility.
“Don’t worry, I can handle myself and I have an excellent memory.” Scoffed the bulky man. With that he walked out of the room, not even bothering to say goodbye to the urchin that he had just sold. After all, it was just business, no need to be sentimental. Only the whirring sound of giant machines deep within the factory filled up the silence now. The boy kept his head turned until his Keeper was completely out of his vision, disappearing into the dark and winding hallways of the factory. He turned back to face the well-dressed man who was staring right at him, anticipating the return of the child’s attention.
The boy’s shoulders jerked involuntarily. The man in the elegant top hat just smiled that sweetly sick grin at him. Why should such perfectly white teeth be so frightening he wondered? Perhaps it was because they made him think of the big, bad wolf from ‘Little Red Riding Hood’.
“So, whatcha’ name, little boy?” Wonka asked glibly.
In a very soft voice, the boy responded, “Sebastian.”
“Hmn!” Mr. Wonka made an approving chirpy noise. “Sebastian”, he repeated slowly and stared intently into the boy’s eyes again.
“Sebastian,” He said with more emphasis “my name is Willy Wonka.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened and his gently curved mouth parted. He put the math together: the unknown wealthy candy-maker from the foreign land was… “You-You’re THE Willy Wonka?” he gasped, his voice still gentle. The child’s hands had darted out in front of his body, emphasizing his surprise at this discovery.
Wonka cocked his head to one side and had a befuddled look on his face. “My dear child, now why would you go and do something like that?”
Sebastian didn’t have the slightest idea what he meant until he felt the sting of that cane on his extended hand.
“Whack!” the sound proceeded to echo all the way through the immense hallway.
He let out a very small yelp. It was hard not to cry, his prophecy had come true. The pale boy had suspected that whimsical cane all along. The sting of the hard plastic had reminded him what he had done wrong though. He only lowered his head and did not bother to admit his error, for that would have cost him another bit of punishment.
“You ONLY speak, WHEN spoken to, and even then, ONLY when I address a question to you PERSONALLY. Do you understand?” Mr. Wonka’s voice had quickly lost its child-like quality, taking on an authoritative tone again.
The man in the top hat was quoting his Keeper word for word. Sebastian had come to hate the sound of his own voice from this part of his training. The blow to his hand had been his fault, he knew better than to speak out of line.
“Look, I’m flattered that ya heard of me, but yer gonna have to be a good boy from now on, allrighty?” the sudden return of the cheerful tone only succeeded in making the candy-man creepier still. He was impossible to predict.
The light brown-haired boy only nodded his head slowly in response, careful to look right at Mr. Wonka.
“Good! ‘Cause I’d hate to have to do that again.” He said in an animated tone, his features twisted into an exaggerated sad-face. It was then that the boy noticed how the man’s face was like a floating mask. It was the only skin that was revealed on his entire body, his unique bob and the high-collars of his clothes only accenting that quality further.
Sebastian doubted Mr. Wonka’s statement. This man seemed like someone who liked to delve out discipline, liked it a lot, and hadn’t had a chance to do it in a while. The top of the boy’s hand still stung and a pink mark could be made out under the stark lights.
“Very good. I think we understand each other now. Shall we proceed?”, his voice was calm now. He almost sounded like an adult this time.
“Yes, please.” Sebastian said very meekly.
Wonka gestured for the boy to walk in front of himself, stretching out his arms and relieving the cane of its pressure. The boy moved exactly as instructed, further down the hall, and deeper into the factory. Mr. Wonka’s eyes eagerly followed his new purchase as soon as the boy’s back was to him. Slowly they proceeded down the hall.
It turned out that the room was a massive optical illusion! What had appeared to be a giant hallway receding into some great distance was actually a slowly shrinking room. Soon, they were on top of a very small door, even smaller than the child. Mr. Wonka was very close to the boy, reaching carefully in front of him to open the tiny door with a tiny key from his large key ring. Sebastian turned his head tracing the chain that came from the key ring back to his vest pocket. Then noticed that the man’s face had come quite close to his own, he smiled at the boy, his eyes glancing across the child’s features. “Go ahead and take a look at what’s inside.”
When the boy looked forward there was an incredible vision in front of him. The tiny hallway suddenly turned into an enormous room, the size of a park, exploding with color and exotic growth, and the most incredible smell that he had ever breathed. The scent matched the chocolatier’s exactly; intensely sweet, a musky odor of chocolate beans, mint, and a slight undertone of nuts and spices. Perhaps he was a strange strange-looking man, but he smelled as delightful as one of his confections.
Sebastian stepped into the room, but he was careful to do it without a word despite his awe. The noise of rushing water filled his ears. It was the sound of a large rushing waterfall, but where refreshing and clear water should have been was hot, thick liquid chocolate. Beautiful as the vision of the room was there was also an element of strangeness to the foliage. The colors were too bright, the growths twisted, the path undulated in an exaggerated manner, and the entire appearance was unnatural. Even the grass beneath his feet curled, more like hair or fur, than any lawn that he had ever seen. The room seemed alive, conscious even. He turned to look at his new owner, hoping for the explanation that he could not request. The man seemed enraptured by his own creation: a creation so similar to himself. It took Wonka a moment to turn his wide eyes down toward the boy, a broad pleased grin on his face.
“Ya like it?” He asked simply.
“It’s incredible. Is-is it real?” The boy dared to inquire.
“It’s a real fantasy come to life.” The man answered, his eyes becoming dreamy. Quickly though, he widened his eyes again, leaned down and pointed, “Look over there!”
The child saw what appeared to be a fairy-book cottage just off to the right of them. The entire structure was warped and slanted. It looked as if it were on the verge of collapsing. The paint was flaking off and the poorly shingled roof was in dire need of repair, yet there was sweetness to its sadness. The child looked back at Wonka who motioned for him to walk forward again.
Upon entering through the heavily slanted door of the house, a large single room became visible. The room contained a tired, large empty bed, and a big rectangular rustic table in front of a modest kitchen (set-up in the corner). Another mattress lay off to the side on the floor. There was also a ramshackle bunk bed area above him, accessed through a scrawny wooden ladder. Sebastian thought there were an awful lot of beds, but concentrated his attention on the perfectly laid out meal upon the table. There was a single bowl of steaming soup, a hunk of dark bread with butter, and a bar of chocolate: specifically ‘Whipplescrumptous Fudgemallow Delight’. He blinked in confusion. Who had laid out the meal? The home appeared abandoned, but had been kept quite clean.
“Go ahead, sit down.” Wonka said with that breathless tone he had when he first saw the lad’s eyes. The boy really was famished. His Keeper had been restricting Sebastian’s humble diet even further since the candyman had expressed interest in wanting one of his boys off the internet. The boy sat down in the rickety, straight-backed wooden chair. Willy Wonka took off his top hat and placed his cane against the wall. A wave of relief went through the boy. Then Wonka took a seat right next to the boy.
Sebastian was about to pick up the large metal spoon, but a hand gripped the back of his hair and pulled him back.
“Did I SAY you could eat yet?” He asked sharply, still holding his head back. The boy was shaking slightly from the shock of being touched by him.
“No.” The boy responded humbly. The gloves released their grip with a squelch noise.
“Ah, shouldn’t you say your prayers first?” he asked as a parent might.
Sebastian was shocked, this strange man who hired him to do any perverted thing he wanted, was concerned with God?? Then again, praying about now didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He clasped his hands together, closed his eyes and bent his head down. Mr. Wonka did not, he only watched intently. Then he reached out and straightened the locks of hair that his grasp had displaced. His face looked entranced as Sebastian peeked at him. He wondered how long he should pray? Almost as if Wonka could read his thoughts, the musical voice said, “OK, that’s good enough. Ya can eat now.”
The boy again picked up his spoon at the single place setting. He took a large sip of the soup and tasted cabbage, mostly cabbage, with some onion and potato…and a little salt. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t fancy either. Why couldn’t the rich man have given him seafood or a big, juicy steak? Wonka had leaned his elbow on the table, his hand against his face, holding him up while he watched the child’s every movement. It was very discerning to see someone take such joy in the mere act of watching him eating food. After a few more mouthfuls Mr. Wonka spoke again, “Wait.”
The boy immediately stopped eating and turned to face the man next to him.
“Something’s not quite right.” He said, a deeply thoughtful look upon his mask-like face. There was something just slightly less imposing about him without the top hat. The boy looked at his jagged bangs brushing only an inch of his forehead. The rest of his brow was bare, again drawing attention to those remarkable purple-colored eyes. Sebastian’s stomach made a little gurgle in protest of the simple meal being ceased. Wonka immediately looked at the child’s torso with a mildly annoyed expression, then quickly picked up his head and smiled. “I got it!”
“Why it’s yer clothes of course! They’re all wrong!” He said cheerfully and immediately grabbed the crook of Sebastian’s arm and the back of the chair, then twisted it around with the boy in it.
The boy was now facing the large bed in the center of the room, “Put those on.”
Sebastian hadn’t noticed it before, not among all of the patterns in the quilt. There were several neatly folded piles of clothes placed on top. He looked back at Wonka who was just flashing those ominous bright teeth again. The child got up and started to slowly pull off his own long-sleeved grey shirt.
“Oh, wait!” Wonk exclaimed again, this time with a giggle. The boy froze.
“I wanna be surprised!” He stated joyfully then turned to face the side in his chair, crossing his legs. He then proceeded to remove his plush velvet coat and hang it off the back of his chair. The flowing sleeves of the pristine white silk shirt underneath became visible. A leather band at the top of each of his arms kept the billowing fabric from covering his hands. The leather vest’s military-styled buttons became visible. The collar of the vest raised all the way up to his throat were a fanciful, silver ‘W’ accented the closure of his top button.
Wonka suddenly held his finger up and added, “I can still see you in the corner of my eye though, so don’t try to sneak away or anything.”

This was the most peculiar human being Sebastian had ever encountered. And he had met some very peculiar people. He continued to disrobe until he was down to his underwear. Then lifted up the first bit of folded clothing. It was a pair of dull brown corduroy pants. Again, he was somewhat disappointed that he wasn’t going to get something finer.
“Ah, the underwear too.” Came the sweet-voiced command.
Clearly the candyman had snuck a peek or two despite wanting a ‘surprise’. The child removed the offending garment and stood pale and naked in the charming storybook house. It was quite a vision of innocence. Wonka shifted uncomfortably in his chair and raised his hand to partly cover his peripheral vision.
“Hurry up and put on the clothes, little boy.” Wonka’s voice sounded mildly annoyed, with a flutter in it.
Sebastian was almost relieved that the man could be aroused without beating him. He found the new pair of simple white cotton underwear and put them on, then the rest of the clothes. They didn’t quite fit him though. The pants were a little too short and the argyle sweater’s sleeves didn’t come up to his wrists. Sebastian sat on the bed to put on the shoes last. The large chunky boots were a tad too small, but he made them fit by tying the thick laces tightly. From the indents in the shoes, it seemed that the person who wore them before him had the same problem. Maybe the clothes weren’t supposed to fit. The child stood and faced Mr. Wonka who quickly faced forward. The man gasped, his whole face lit up, he drew both of his hands up to his chest and balled them into excited fists.
“Perfect…just perfect.” His voice was completely breathless.
Mr. Wonka stood slowly, almost like the sight in front of him could disappear if he was too anxious. Sebastian didn’t know why, but the man was reacting to him like he was some sort of dream come true. Willy Wonka reached forward and adjusted the patterned beige shirt so that the collar stuck out of the sweater neck. He then tenderly stroked over the collar, the gloves making a brushing noise as he did so. He just stood there gazing at him for a second, his breath raspy. He raised his hand to the boy’s chestnut colored hair and stroked his fingers through it. Sebastian expected to get pushed onto the large bed at any second. It was beyond him why anyone would be so thoroughly turned on by such worn-out, unattractive clothing.
“Sebastian…” He hesitated. His voice was incredibly gentle all of a sudden.
He was now grasping the boy’s narrow shoulders in his hands, “Would you mind terribly if I called you…Charlie?”
“Of course not.” The boy responded softly. He certainly wasn’t in a position to argue. The name seemed familiar, though he wasn’t sure why.
“Charlie, you go ahead and eat that candy bar now. I know it’s your favorite.” Wonka’s face turned back toward the heavily worn kitchen table and he reluctantly released the child from his grasp.
Sebastian would have liked to finish the soup, but a candy bar would do just as well. As far as it being his favorite, food of all kinds was ‘his favorite’ right about now. The child walked back to the table and picked up the large bar of chocolate bar in the maroon wrapper. It struck him again that he was performing for the very same man who created the world-famous chocolate. Who would’ve thought such a man would have such strange cravings? As he started to unwrap it, something caught his eye, a glimmer of gold. The child looked at Wonka perplexed. Willy had sat down on the bed and had an expectant smile on his face. He made an excited gesture, flicking both of his hands, for the boy to continue.
“Go ahead! Open it!” Wonka’s white skin refused to reflect the light in the room; instead it had an eerie light that seemed to come from another dimension entirely.
Sebastian unwrapped it a little more. There was writing on the golden paper, he tore off a large piece of the wrapper, then slid the whole thing out and stared at it.
Wonka had jumped up and excitedly grabbed the boy in an embrace, bringing himself down to his knees. “Well, read it, see what you’ve won!”
“B-But I can’t read Mr. Wonka.” Stated the child nervously. He had barely ever been to school.
“Well then, I’ll just tell you.” Said Mr. Wonka sweetly. He stared fondly at the boy’s face while Sebastian continued to try and figure out what the object was the Mr. Wonka was now grasping with him.
“You get to live forever in my amazing factory!” Wonka said pointedly. Squeezing the boy tighter to himself.
Now Sebastian was a little confused. Was this part of the game they were playing? And why did all of this sound familiar? He stared back at Mr. Wonka completely confused, desperate to ask a question. Instead he got a soft and passionate kiss on his mouth. It was actually a really good kiss! So surprised was the child that he forgot to close his eyes initially. The contact lasted a long moment, his eyes flutter closed, and he started to think that things were moving up in more ways than one. He could feel his new owner, even through those leather pants, and responded similarly.
Sebastian’s head was turned by one of Willy’s hands to stay facing him. Wonka pulled away very slowly, his eyes staying closed, savoring the moment a second longer. Then, just as Sebastian tasted the mysterious flavor of sugar on his lips, Wonka’s dark eyelashes flicked open and he said in a hushed voice, “You never have to see that awful man again. He’s never gonna come back for you.”
This did NOT sound like part of the game and the child gulped audibly. His eyes registered panic as he stared into the far-away gaze of the chocolatier.
“That’s right!” Wonka said cheerfully, “He’s dead somewhere. I’m sure of it. Even if the traps in the factory didn’t get him, that chocolate bar sure would!” And he giggled manically. “Yeah, I put a pretty nasty poison in that bar, plus some enzymes that’ll just gobble up every bit of his carcass! It’ll be like he never existed at all.”
Hot tears had started to stream down the face of the boy who couldn’t speak. It was true that his keeper had been awful, but it was all that he knew. Bad as it was, he knew what to expect.
Wonka pulled the boy’s small head down to his left shoulder. “Aww, that’s OK, you don’t have to thank me.” The child’s frame fit marvelously inside his own, like a lost puzzle piece. He breathed in the familiar scent that the clothes caused the boy to have. He sighed, “Ooh, I’ve missed you so much.” Wonka’s voice was full of yearning.
Sebastian had started to make sobbing sounds on the man’s shoulder. Wonka had to be lying to him. This had to be some sick part of the game the candy maker had started. But it wasn’t. That became clear as the days wore on and the boy’s Keeper never returned.
Willy Wonka wasn’t a bad lover, but he was demanding, and frequently cruel. The punishments were always worse when he was in his own clothes, so he came to prefer the other set that were provided for him. He always had a sense of little people around, like elves, but never saw any. He started to wonder if Mr. Wonka had magical powers since things seemed to disappear, reappear, and clean themselves all the time. He knew he couldn’t ask. The fear of death kept him from trying to escape from the factory, that and the fact that there was nothing for him to return to.
Then, after a little time, he woke up to the sound of singing. Another person’s voice called for Willy. He poked his head to look through the hole in the ceiling above the small bed, which had become his room. Outside of the cottage was Mr. Wonka with a handsome young man in an elegant emerald suit, a bow tie, and a smaller version of Wonka’s top hat. The other man embraced Wonka as soon as he came over. Wonka looked nervous, but hesitantly returned the gesture. The men released their embrace and had started to talk excitedly to one another. Wonka gestured for them to go inside, cane in hand.
Sebastian instantly pulled his head away and lay back in the bed pretending to be asleep. His body really ached. His back stung with whip marks under the loose and transparent nightgown. There was something about that pathetic little bed that drove Mr. Wonka wild with passion. He kept wondering when the tiny thing would collapse from the efforts it was being put through.
“So they’re all moved in and happy”, stated the young man cheerfully as he entered the cottage. Wonka was right behind him. “I’m glad you let me help them. I know the holidays are coming and it’ll be a while until I get a chance to visit them again.”
“Did y-your..uh..” Wonka stuttered. Sebastian had never heard him do that before. Why did this man make the cruel candy maker nervous?
“Parents?” The man sighed fondly, and then chuckled a little.
“Yeah. Did they like the house that I picked?” He asked.
“It’s perfect! You even gave them some of your special horticulture!” The man gushed. Sebastian was peering down at them through the large gaps in the make-shirt floor of his upstairs bedroom. The boy noticed that the new man had deep dimples when he smiled. Also his hair was the exact same shade of chestnut as his own.
“OUR horticulture.” Wonka corrected politely.
The man blushed a little and they both smiled at each other, quiet for a second.
The new man cleared his throat. “So, what have you been doing in this rickety old home of mine?”
“Babysitting your birthday present.” Wonka said, striking a lovely pose with his infamous walking cane, a smirk on his lips.
“My what?!” Came the startled response.
“Well, you were always bemoaning not having a sibling while you grew up here. Now that it’s just you and me, and you’re all grown up, I thought it would be nice to have a child around again. So…I got you a baby brother.”
The child upstairs gasped.
Both men looked upwards.
Wonka’s smirk grew bolder. “Why don’t you go ahead and meet him, Charlie. His name is Sebastain. Isn’t that a lovely name?”
Charlie was startled but he headed up the ladder. Wonka continued announcing, “The poor thing had no family at all and was your spitting image! How could I resist adopting him?”
The boy came face to face with the person whose name Mr. Wonka liked to call him by, especially when he climaxed. They stared frozen at each other, both in shock. Charlie was about six feet tall and had more muscle to his body than Willy Wonka, though the man was nowhere near as bulky as his Keeper had been.
“Don’t worry,” Wonka called out, “he’s not in my will or anything yet.”
“Willy, how could you think I would worry about such a thing?” chided the handsome man. Unlike Wonka he had color in his skin and his hair was stylishly short; it looked like an expensive cut too.
“Wow, you sure do look like a young me! Of course my ears stuck more than yours!” He laughed at the self-deprecating remark. He seemed like a very warm, kind person to Sebastain. How could it be that he and Mr. Wonka were friends?
“Sebastian…” Resounded Wonka’s musical voice, “you feel free to talk to Charlie, but you remember to mind your manners.” The word ‘manners’ was said with a certain threatening quality to it. Sebastain was pretty sure what he wasn’t supposed to talk about with the young man. But, he was currently just relieved to have his company.
Charlie sat at the foot of his old bed studying the boy. Sebastain was sitting up against his pillow, his eyes wide.
“Charlie, I’ve got to get back to work now, I’ll see you at dinner and we’ll catch up some more. You stay and get to know your new baby brother, ‘kay? But don’t overdue it, the kid’s been…ill and needs some rest.” Wonka said towards the floorboards.
“Sure!” Charlie responded loudly, then whispered to Sebastian in a silly voice, “He’s such a workaholic!”
“I heard that!” Said Mr. Wonka musically as he stepped out the slanted door. Sebastain actually managed a small chuckle. The pair were like brothers teasing each other.
Charlie got up and poked his own head out of the roof hole; he kept watching Wonka as he sashayed through the candy meadow. His gaze fixed on the slowly disappearing form.
“How do you know him?” Sebastian said, his voice barely audible. Wonka had given him permission to speak, but it had been a long time since he was allowed to voice his own thoughts. It still seemed deviant to him.
“Oh, I won a golden ticket in one of his candy bars! It was a special contest that only five people in the whole, wide world got a chance to win. I’ll tell ya the story some time. It’s a hoot!” Sebastain had a vague memory of people telling him about such a contest, it had happened before he was born.
“But first….” Charlie was craning his neck, making sure Wonka was at a great distance.
“I want you tell me everything he did to you.” Charlie’s smoky jade green eyes met Sebastian’s matching ones. The tone in his voice was quite serious, very different from the perky one he had a moment ago. Sebastian just stared at him, uncertain of his meaning.
Charlie ran his tongue across his lips, sat back down on the little bed, and undid the patterned bowtie around his neck. Erotically, he commanded, “Tell me every detail. Don’t leave anything out.”
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Cravings