Candy excitedly watched the decrepit buildings, crumbling streets, and drugged-out faces pass quickly through the window of Daddy’s 1975 Maroon Cadillac Coupe Deville. The time had come to star in another film! It had been a long month and a half since the last shoot, and Candy was ready to leave the liquor store and her normal duties with Daddy behind, at least for the day. Despite that, she found her mind wandering periodically to her workstation as the miles ticked by. The image of a black dick sliding through the gloryhole looped in her mind, and Candy squirmed, shifted her hips, and drew a sharp breath. Living in the damp basement may not have been ideal, but…sucking and riding cock all day was quite the consolation prize!
She sat with her butt perched on the front of the passenger’s seat with her exposed thighs squishing into the cold white leather. The shoot wasn’t the only thing to be excited about because after over a month of waiting (and wearing the same four cum-covered, dirty outfits) Daddy had finally given her some new clothes! Candy knew he was looking out for her!
The pleated, dark blue and white tartan mini-skirt wrapped tightly around her waist was little more than a glorified belt. It barely hid her increasingly wet, hungry camel toe, which was in the process of eating up a black g-string. The visible straps rose above the miniskirt and rode atop the swell of her wide hips. Candy’s snatched stomach was visible between the skirt, the g-string, and a tiny, white, collared crop top that barely contained her Dr. Frank-enhanced, heavy, braless tits. The buttons of the top barely held together while Candy’s areolas were clearly visible and her nipples tented the thin material. A mini clip-on tie matching the skirt dangled from the shirt collar and draped between her breasts. The tight sleeves of the top left the majority of her svelte arms exposed, and even her delicate little hands had new sparkly blue acrylics attached to them, which were longer and less practical than ever. Candy left her damaged and cheaply bleached blonde hair with dark, exposed roots loose and flowing down her back, and her makeup was rather sparse. She trusted that Ariana would be on set to doll her up before filming, though it felt strange to see her pretty teenage face in the side mirror without layers of caked on makeup. In particular, Candy’s ridiculously thick lips looked weird without any gloss or color on them. Her big green eyes seemed plain without shadow, contour, pencil, mascara, etc. After months of smothering herself in makeup, she looked like a different person in the mirror. She shifted her gaze to the big, gold hoops pulling at her earlobes. At least her trusty hoops looked normal! She hardly noticed them anymore. Looking past her chest to her feet, Candy admired the shiny, six-inch Mary Jane platform heels on her petite feet and the knee-high, white stockings with lacy blue trim climbing her smooth legs.
Daddy had really gone all out on this new outfit! Candy was ecstatic to have new clothing and hoped it was the first of many. Anything was better than the cum rags she had recently been wearing! She may have looked like a high school slut, but at least she was a clean high school slut!
Candy’s feminine body jiggled as the car hit a speed bump and the buttons of her top almost burst open. She checked her chest, ensuring her overactive milk ducts hadn’t leaked.
She turned and bit her lip before addressing Daddy with her high-pitched, breathy valley girl voice, “Like, um, thanks for this totally killer outfit, Daddy! I’m, like, super happy to get some new clothes, you know?”
Daddy wore an oversized dark suit and sunglasses. His seat was reclined back, and he held onto the wheel casually.
Without turning to address her, Daddy responded coldly, “Yeah, yeah. Course, ho. You know Daddy always gon’ take care’a his best bitch." He motioned towards her dismissively before adding, “But them clothes is borrowed so don’t get too comfortable. I gots you all sorts of new shit back at yo’ place.”
Candy’s chest fluttered. She was his best!? He had gotten her more outfits!? And she was going to star in a new film!? This was the best day ever!
Daddy turned sharply, and Candy caught herself on the door. The elation she felt was quickly undercut by concerns about her family. She still hadn’t seen or talked to them in over a month.
She nervously smoothed out her mini-skirt with her long, sparkly blue acrylics before asking sweetly, “Um, Daddy? Can I, like, see my family and junk? My mom and brother, I mean?”
Daddy gave an annoyed sigh and then grunted, “I don’t know, ho. Logan an’ I still tryin’ to get them situated and funded, ya’ dig? Today’s shoot goin’ a long way to get that paid off so you better be a good ho, aight?”
Candy nodded while lifting her penis-shaped water bottle to her inflated lips and taking a sip. The image of the black cock in the gloryhole once again spread deeply through her brain as pink water slid down her throat. She had to be a good girl and be the best actress in the world for her family’s sake! Enjoying the image for a few more seconds, Candy returned the water bottle to a tiny black and blue backpack that Daddy had given her. For whatever reason, the bag had ‘Cammi Swallows - Grade 11’ written with bold black letters on white rectangles stitched onto the back. It was weird, but Candy didn’t question anything and figured it had something to do with the borrowed nature of the outfit.
Fantasizing about black cock, new outfits, being a famous movie star, and saving her family from poverty, Candy happily kicked her feet like an excited kid in the passenger seat, with her excitement only growing as she and Daddy raced through the ghetto and neared their destination.
Coming to a screeching halt on the roadside, Daddy turned his head towards Candy and pointed at an abandoned-looking warehouse. A wooden sign barely clinging to the building by a rickety wooden latch read in an almost completely faded script: ‘Lucky’s Fish Market.'
If not for the multiple vehicles parked in front of the building, including the bright pink ‘Chic-Mobile Boutique’ makeup RV, Candy would have figured the warehouse was long abandoned. Among the parked vehicles was Logan’s black Lincoln Navigator with dark tinted windows. Candy felt excited but strangely nervous. She hadn’t seen Logan in over a month. Would he even remember her spark, her talent, or her dreams? There were a few times working the gloryhole that Candy thought she might have been riding Logan. But if it was him beyond the wall, he never came back to see her. He must have been too busy to chit-chat or knew she didn’t have time to stop and spend time with him. If it WAS him, Candy hoped her pussy was good enough for Logan to keep considering her as his rising star. She smiled confidently to herself in the side mirror. She was tight, she was wet, she was enthusiastic, she was experienced—of course her vagina was good enough! The fact that she was starring in another shoot was proof of that! Her brain reassured itself that as long as her warm, moist holes could pleasure any erection to completion, she was valuable.
Pushing open the heavy door, Candy swung her stocking-clad legs towards the building and hopped out, landing on her tall Mary Janes and slinging the tiny backpack around her narrow shoulders. Daddy slammed his door and donned a fedora-style hat and an expensive-looking fur coat despite the warm mid-morning sun shining brightly. His dark sunglasses hid his predatory eyes, and Candy knew better than to do anything but wait for his direction. The g-string dug into each of her lower holes when she carefully pulled at the strings to ensure they were optimally displayed. The feeling of a g-string wedged in her crevices was completely normal and comfortable to Candy and didn’t bother her in the slightest. The skirt barely reached her upper thigh. She gently tugged it down but had very little fabric to work with.
Disrupting her attempts to cover herself was Daddy. He sidled around the car and slapped his hand beneath Candy’s skirt, spanking her and leaving his large, smooth hand to cup her ass cheek possessively. Candy softly purred and jutted her hip towards him to provide even easier access. With Daddy’s hand beneath her skirt, his arm tented the pleated material and left her lower body almost fully exposed. Her milky thighs and nearly transparent underwear flashed briefly into the light.
The gentle nudge of her flesh ushered Candy forward, and she moved towards the warehouse with Daddy’s hand still in place. Her heels clopped along the crumbling concrete with her natural, swinging gait thrown off by Daddy’s meddling fingers. He followed closely behind with a masculine stomp. His towering, dark frame clung to her like a shadow in the midday sun.
They stopped at a faded but sturdy wooden entrance door. Daddy leaned forward and knocked a few times, his knuckles rapping loudly against the dense wood. The door opened almost instantly, and the watchful eye of a tall, well-built Hispanic man greeted them. He had a tight black t-shirt over his hard, muscular upper body that said ‘SECURITY’ in bold letters, and dark jeans on his long legs. His expression was hardened and tough with a jagged scar carved into his right cheek and tattoos crawling up his neck. Candy froze and couldn’t meet the man’s gaze. Her tiny, feminine body felt miniscule and hopelessly fragile compared to the bulky male security guard. She was thankful Daddy was with her!
“Yeah?” The man asked gruffly, his voice challenging and suspicious.
Daddy shooed the man away with a confident flick of his wrist, “Get the fuck outta my way, nigga. I’m David motherfuckin’ Lawrence.” Daddy sneered as the muscular Hispanic bouncer’s expression darkened, “And this sexy little slut is my best ho, Cammi Swallows.”
Recognition filled the security guard's eyes, and he shifted to the side to allow access, his hardened expression unchanging. Daddy shook his head and stared the man down as he pushed Candy forward by her ass. She stumbled, then caught her footing and slipped past the guard with the clopping of platform heels, all while Daddy groped her. She was careful not to let her breasts jiggle too much and had become a real expert at avoiding unwanted leakage over the last month courtesy of a handheld breast pump that she used every night before bed. A freshly pumped breast is a dry breast!
A chill wafted over Candy as the sunshine faded and she entered the dark interior of the warehouse. It was much colder than she expected and reeked of fish. Goosebumps sprouted across her body, and she had no doubt that Daddy could feel them against his warm hand. Candy shivered, and her nipples hardened against the top.
The warehouse was a large, mostly empty wooden building with cloudy glass windows high up near the ceiling. It must have been three stories tall and completely open except for the exposed support beams, which crisscrossed the ceiling. Battered crates and tables were pushed to the periphery, and the dusty concrete floor seemed to seep the omnipresent chill through Candy’s shoes and inject it into her bloodstream.
Near the end of the long building was a flurry of activity. Crew members were moving to and fro, adjusting lights, moving props, and setting up equipment. Candy saw a few familiar faces from previous shoots but didn’t remember any names. Inside a circle of lights were three false walls covered with various motivational posters, a linoleum-tiled floor, a chalkboard, and four rows of desks. It looked like a high school classroom. Candy slowly peered down at herself as she was shuffled forward by Daddy. Her outfit certainly made more sense now.
As they neared, Candy started to notice more familiar people. The first person she recognized was a short, old, balding man in an ill-fitting suit and glasses. He was on his cell phone near the corner, arguing with somebody and furiously pacing. The man shot his gaze to Candy, and the color seemed to drain from his face. This was a man she was intimately familiar with.
He was one of her regular johns! The one that had walked in on her one time!
Candy didn’t know his name, but she could fully picture every wrinkle and fold of his pathetic white dick and even imagine the taste. He came to visit a few times a week, always on his cell phone. And, based on his reaction, Candy knew he recognized her too.
She gave him a tiny wave and licked her lips playfully in his direction. Candy may have known what his penis looked and tasted like after multiple sessions, but the man also knew what the inside of her mouth felt like wrapped around his shaft, so they were similarly knowledgeable of one another. The man stopped in his tracks, and his cheeks became flushed. She giggled as he adjusted his dress pants.
What was he doing here anyway?
Brushing the question aside, Candy next saw Logan sitting in his director’s chair. His dark, bald head was sporting a backwards beret, and his older but still strong frame wore a sweater vest and slacks. His thick glasses hung down his nose, and his weathered, gray speckled beard was shifting slowly as he was speaking in hushed tones to… Dr. Frank?
The old, balding, liver-spotted, ghostly skin of Dr. Frank somehow shone in the dim light. He was wearing a loose and ill-fitting black shirt that said 'LENOIR SOLUTIONS LLC’ in bold letters. He had it tucked into khaki pants, which were much too high on his stomach. His extremely thick glasses pulled at his large, wrinkled ears, and he listened intently to Logan while nodding along.
A few paces behind the men stood Molly, who was wearing the same shirt as Dr. Frank, only hers was purple: ‘LENOIR SOLUTIONS LLC.' Her thin 5'6" frame wore the shirt much better than Dr. Frank's, and it was tucked into well-fitted blue jeans. Her shoulder-length blond hair was tied in a no-nonsense ponytail. She was standing with exceptional posture and a stoic expression on her young face, but she was clearly eavesdropping on their hushed conversation.
More and more of the crew recognized that Cammi Swallows had entered the building based on the hollow clapping of her heels echoing off the walls. Candy could feel the growing attention her body was demanding. She added more sway to her step and spunk to her strut to really give onlookers the Cammi Swallows attitude they expected.
When Logan finally noticed Candy approaching, he cut his conversation short and stood from his chair with a wide grin. He stared at Candy and opened his arms wide, offering her a hug. No, not offering, but demanding. His wingspan was massive, and his hands looked like baseball mitts compared to hers.
Candy pulled away from Daddy with a bubbly smile of her own and pressed her head against Logan’s chest. He enveloped her in a hearty squeeze, forcing her breasts to squish against him. He held her for a second before pushing her away and stealing a quick glance down her skimpy schoolgirl top.
“There’s my star!” Logan sighed in his deep, hearty voice. His heavy hands weighed on her shoulders, but his eyes were still buried in her cleavage. “Sorry for the delay, Cammi, this last month has been a bit of a nightmare for production. But I’m happy to say—" He craned his neck behind him and gestured for Dr. Frank, who stepped forward. “I’m happy to say that we finally secured a solid source of funding from Dr. Frank and his company, ‘Lenoir Solutions'! I know you and Dr. Frank have been acquainted, right, Cammi?”
Before she could answer, Dr. Frank stepped forward. His dry, used-car-salesman voice and high energy cut off any response she was prepared to give. “Oh yes, Cammi and I are very familiar with each other. You’re looking wonderful, my dear! Are your breasts and lips exceeding all expectations?"
Candy began her answer, “Um, yes, Doctor, they—" Before Dr. Frank cut her off by surging forward and unceremoniously flipping her shirt up, completely exposing her chest.
Candy gasped from surprise and automatically pulled her shoulder blades back to press her gigantic implants forward. Logan, Daddy, the man on the phone, Molly, and several crew members openly stared, giving Candy the attention she craved.
Dr. Frank’s cold, ghostly, wrinkled hands hefted one breast, then the other, periodically pinching and testing their elasticity. Candy made sure to keep her hands and arms out of the way, even actively restricting her breathing to prevent movement, as the good doctor inspected her like prized cattle.
He spoke quietly and clinically, as if discussing a specimen out loud with himself, “Perfectly natural feel. Young, pliable, fertile. You’ve outdone yourself, Doctor.”
His hands zeroed in on her areola, and he squeezed her nipples from the outside to the center. He did this multiple times, teasing and pulling—something tantamount to human milking. His efforts were rewarded after a few seconds of stimulation when Candy stifled a moan and felt the pressure build and release suddenly in the form of a stream of liquid bursting from the milk ducts dotting her erect nipples.
It seemed that a single pumping session at night would no longer be sufficient if Dr. Frank could so easily coax out an explosive stream from her nipples. While she reveled in the attention that the whole room was now giving her tiny, huge-titted, freely lactating body, the implications that her milk supply was steadily growing to the point of needing multiple pumping sessions was…a concerning development.
But Dr. Frank didn’t let Candy’s thoughts have space to ruminate as his finger scraped across her dripping nipples and he pressed his glistening digit between her inflated DSLs. Once again, Candy’s autopilot activated, and she accepted his finger and started to suck on it, tasting her own sweet, watery lactation.
Candy’s eyes fluttered as images of fat cocks raced through her mind and she sucked in earnest. The gloryhole, her broken memories of high school, her deeply ingrained obsession with dicks—they all activated upon having a hard, shaft-like object occupying her mouth. A surge of hot arousal spiked between her legs at just the imitation of giving head.
Dr. Frank pulled his finger back, only able to wrestle it out of Candy’s mouth with a loud, wet POP. As soon as his finger escaped her maw, the flashing images in her brain dissipated.
Dr. Frank chuckled and turned to Logan while wiping his hand on his labcoat. His quick, dry voice was filled with mirth. “As you can see, Ms. Swallows’ enhanced parts, courtesy of ‘Lenoir Solutions,' are performing exactly as we discussed! Per our discussion, I am happy to report that I think she’ll have no issue with the procedures you were interested in.” He then returned his attention to Candy, who had pulled the schoolgirl top back over her chest, “And you, Ms. Swallows? Would you be interested in becoming more to Mr. Master’s liking? I imagine your clientele are satisfied with your current upgrades?”
Candy stood in the middle of Daddy, Logan, and Dr. Frank. They formed a tight, overwhelming triangle and were all looking down at her with different flavors of 'predator.' All eyes in the room were on her.
She nodded shyly. Her cheap, bleach blonde hair swayed with her movement, and her breathy voice wafted from her huge DSLs like the vapid teenager she appeared to be, “Like, totally! I haven’t, um, heard any complaints, you know?”
Logan grinned and leaned forward to forcibly shake Candy’s shoulders, causing her damp, heavy tits to jiggle and sway in her skimpy shirt. She smiled and giggled, leaning into the forced movement and giving the triangle a good show. Controlling her body and her mood reestablished Logan’s dominance. He was quietly reminding everybody that he was in the driver’s seat after Dr. Frank’s display. Candy was none the wiser and simply thought everybody was super interested in her boobies today.
Logan released Candy’s shoulders and chuckled, “Definitely no complaints from me, Doc! You do amazing work! I know we had a partnership before, but now that you’re officially behind everything here, I was hoping to get you on set so you can see what your investment brings to the big screen.”
Molly silently approached the triangle to watch and listen from a distance as Dr. Frank clapped his hands together. His wrinkled and saggy arms quivered lightly.
Dr. Frank’s unnaturally perfect smile seemed to shimmer in the scant light. He agreed, “Oh, I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. Now that we’re official partners, I’d like to get young Ms. Swallows to my offices more often for some…touch-ups."
In his own bid of ownership and power, Daddy pulled Candy possessively from behind by her hips and spoke slowly as his grip tightened, “So long as dis’ ho be workin’ fo’ me when she ain’t filmin’. She know her place. Lot’a clients to take care of, aight?”
Logan responded in his deep baritone, "Of course, Mr. Lawrence, of course." We can always trust you to keep Ms. Swallows busy while we’re preparing her for her next step in her journey. Speaking of which—" Logan snapped his fingers over his head, and his expression darkened. He growled, “Where is that lazy piece of—"
“I’m here *cough* boss!" A squeaky tenor voice called near the director’s chair.
Candy glanced past Logan to a sissy-looking man she had previously overlooked. Who was…?
Her mouth fell open with shock.
It was Brad.
