Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

The Candyman's Education	By : Shaduan Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 6454 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Pondicherry was kind enough to give Willy one night to himself, and he spent half of it in his black and red striped socks (which he had considered his lucky socks, until the news over dinner), jumping meditatively on a featherbed big enough to accommodate half a dozen people without anyone touching. It had plenty of spring, too, and the ceiling in his room was high enough that he could turn backflips (and did, several times) while he turned his current situation over and over in his mind.
He had always been open to new experiences. If he wasn’t he wouldn’t have developed so many new and innovative things to do with chocolate and candy, and he wouldn’t be the number one candymaker in the western world (though his influence was obviously spreading to the eastern hemisphere as well.
He turned a backflip.
Certainly, the tutorial that Pondicherry had in mind would count as a new experience – and it wouldn’t really be that he was scared. No… he felt like the first time he stood in line to get on a looping roller coaster and looked up at the first massive hill, and imagined himself plunging down the other side, almost straight down into oblivion. He’d white-knuckled that ride, screaming his throat raw as the capricious coaster flung him in directions the human body were not used to, leaving him shaky and weak-kneed at the end of it – and he promptly got in line to do it all over again.
He turned a backflip.
Would this be like that – an eternity of anticipation, followed by raw, heart-pounding terror? Did Pondicherry know? Of course he did – you didn’t have so many of something around (like women, for example) unless you had some idea what to do with them. Even if, as frequently happened in the candy business, they had no real point. Candy didn’t have to have a point – that’s what made it candy. He hoped his tutelage would be enjoyable, or at least interesting. He couldn’t abide boredom; candy *had* to at least be interesting.
Well, he concluded, he would at least give it a try, to avoid being rude to the Prince. Who knows – maybe he’d learn something interesting.
He turned most of a backflip, twisted in the air, and belly-flopped softly onto his bed in a shower of little pillows. He wiggled and writhed into the bedclothing (which was far more than he had ever encountered on one piece of furniture) until he found a cozy spot, then curled up like a cat and went to sleep.
*****
In the morning Pondicherry treated him to a breakfast consisting of chilled fruits, and entertainment consisting of young women dressed in veils and clothing Willy could see right through (making him wonder what the point had been of their getting dressed at all) dancing to pipes and sitar music. A few of them even draped themselves across his shoulders, but he brushed them away as politely as he could – he was still eating breakfast, and jumping on the bed for nearly three hours the previous night had made him ravenous.
After breakfast, Willy and Pondicherry went out onto the Prince’s land to scout out a good location for the chocolate palace. During their search, it became clear to Willy that a) Pondicherry’s family had amassed a lot of land and wealthy through the generations, and b) the prince was proud of every square foot of it, even when a peacock stormed out of a stand of tigerlilies in the royal gardens and chased Willy for a quarter mile before it could be caught. Afterwards it took an hour for Pondicherry’s entourage to locate which of a hundred fruit trees Willy had shinned up to escape the foul bird. Pondicherry decreed that lunch would be eaten in the fruit grove, which suited Willy just fine, as he had to catch his breath.
Willy knew that it was already the middle of autumn in India – but apparently someone had forgotten to turn down the thermostat correspondingly, and after his brisk sprint through the garden he had to shed his frockcoat; throughout the rest of the afternoon he also peeled off his waistcoat and undid the top two buttons on his shirt to avoid passing out. As he cast about for someplace to set his clothing so he wouldn’t forget it on the way back, one of the flock of women who seemed perpetually to follow Pondicherry around like ducklings materialized by Willy’s shoulder.
“Can I take your coats?” she asked, “I would hate for you to have to carry them around when you are otherwise occupied.”
“Oh – you speak English?” Willy asked as he handed over the garments. None of the concubines (or groupies, as Willy thought of them) had said a single word to him since he’d arrived.
She bowed to him. “I will keep these safe for you until you return to the palace.”
“Thanks,” he said distractedly, noticing that Pondicherry was wandering off again and jogging to keep up.
It was teatime before they finally decided on the site, a large patch of flat ground that commanded a scenic view of as much of the grounds as possible short of bending the fabric of space beyond three dimensions. Recalling the sketch Pondicherry had shown him of what he wanted the finished Palace to look like, Willy’s mind went into overdrive, revising his initial plans to fit the space and make the best use of the different views available. Pondicherry continued chattering during the long walk back to the Royal Palace, but Willy was too busy creating to participate meaningfully (a fact that didn’t seem to bother the Prince, if he noticed at all).
When the band got back to the Palace, they were met by a servant (who looked big enough to snap Willy in half between two fingers) informing the Prince that the chocolate had arrived and was being transported into the Palace as they spoke. Willy could have told the prince that much – his keen nose had detected the scent of chocolate the instant the door had opened, and by the next morning he knew every last room in the palace would be filled with the sweet smell. He smiled. This would help him concentrate delightfully on the plans for the chocolate palace.
He devoured dinner without really knowing or caring what he had just eaten (and, indeed, without retrieving his clothing from whichever of 50 concubines he had given it to), and immediately retreated to his guest room to work, locking the door so he wouldn’t be disturbed.
He told himself he’d only work for an hour or so, and then take a break…
*****
Three hours later, he was still hunched over his writing desk and hovering on the verge of sleep when he heard the familiar click-click of the lock. He glanced around, startled, and saw the door to his room opening. The woman who slithered through was wrapped in a silk veil the color of fresh mint leaves, so that the only thing visible was her eyes. She had two familiar garments folded over her arm.
The woman approached him, and he watched her cautiously. She lowered the part of the veil that had been covering her face.
"Mr Willy Wonka?" she asked, in a voice like velvet. No, this was not, apparently, the woman he’d originally given his outer clothing to. She sounded a bit older.
"Yes?"
"Prince Pondicherry told me that you are the foremost expert in chocolate."
He relaxed slightly. "Yes. Yes, I am."
"Do you know everything about chocolate then?"
He shrugged. "Everything that can be known. Why?"
"Then, I have a question for you."
"Okay?"
"Tell me... is chocolate meant to be enjoyed only with the tongue?"
Willy grinned. This was definitely his field of expertise. "That's a common misconception," he said, "Really good chocolate is a feast for the senses. I can't tell you how many times I've seen a bar of chocolate where the manufacturers skimped on this or that. I make sure that every last one of my Wonka bars has a smooth, even color, not swirly or blotchy, and melts evenly in the mouth. Have you ever bought a chocolate bar with that weird white powder on the top? That's definitely a sign of shoddy mixing, when the cocoa powder separates out like that. And most chocolate bars don't even make a satisfying sound when you bite into them. Of course, my chocolate doesn't go soft as quickly as the rest, and it makes a nice satisfying crack when you bite it. And what I've discovered about the smell of quality chocolate would make perfume-makers cry. The next best thing to eating really good chocolate could only be smelling it. I could smell it all day." He paused for breath, and then tilted his head at her, suddenly self-conscious. "But I'm rambling."
"No, it's very charming. I so seldom see a man so devoted to his work."
Willy flushed slightly. He had been called many things in his budding career, ranging from obsessed to demented - devoted was a new one.
"But I forget my manners," she continued, “My name is Parvati. Prince Pondicherry sent me to tutor you."
He stared at the hand she offered like it was the business end of a poisonous snake. Finally, he took it carefully and shook it, not wanting to be rude.
“Did you know,” she said as they shook hands, “That chocolate contains a chemical that makes you feel like you’re in love?”
Willy frowned. He hadn’t heard that. It sounded plausible, certainly, as he’d eaten chocolate and read love poems (before becoming bored to tears with romantic poetry), and when he compared notes on the two, he decided more research would be in order.
“His Highness tells me that you are inexperienced in certain subjects, so I will start slowly,” Parvati said, bringing him back to the present. She was fingering a jeweled pin at her shoulder. Willy had a feeling that pin was very important, though he wasn’t yet sure how. “You see, like chocolate, a woman is meant to be enjoyed with all the senses. Most men would stop with sight or touch – it takes an extraordinary man to explore hearing, smell and taste.”
“Yes?” Willy prompted. He couldn’t stop staring at the jeweled pin, and the way her fingers teased at it. That pin looked very, very important.
“Do not worry, Willy. I will start slowly with you. Your first lesson: sight.”
She unclasped the jeweled pin and set it aside on the writing desk. The green veil slithered to the floor, revealing what sort of voluptuous nude could be achieved in a harem.
Willy swallowed hard.
- 2
- 3
- 4
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

The Candyman's Education