An Apple a Day
“Taste it,” she tells you. “It’s sweet; you’ll like it. It’s from the orchard we walked through last night.”
And so you take the apple from her fingers. You wonder at how it can be so shiny, so smooth and deeply crimson. It is the most perfect apple you’ve ever seen. You want to taste it. You want to taste its lush and sugary juices across your tongue. You want to swallow and feel its cool moistness coat your suddenly parched throat.
“Yes, darling, I know you want to,” she whispers at your ear, “I know you need to. You need to bite it. You’re so hungry, and I’m going to feed you. You need to sink your teeth into it. You need to puncture the peel with your teeth. You have to. You have to do it now.”
And so you do. You eagerly open your mouth and even as your teeth pierce its flesh, you smell the aroma of her cunt. She has coated the apple with her malicious juices and you are damned. She is dark, she is evil, she is the greedy, wicked, demanding Femme-Phantasm haunting every Grimm’s Fairy tale. She wants to possess you, debase you, drive your very soul into the dirt, but you can’t stop. You don’t want to stop.
You have to swallow her poison. Her poison that will finally conquer you, debilitate you, enslave you.
As you begin rabidly gnawing at the apple, you feel your balls — icy and hot at the same time — seize up. Your cock is PDQ hard: rock hard, petrified rock hard, boner than bone hard, steel rod hard. Your ass sphincter is rapidly opening and closing, and you can’t make it stop. She’s in control — not you. Not you, not ever again you. Never ever again.
Your orgasm rises up like a fist pummeling through your body and you are cumming, preternaturally spewing. It weeps from your eyes, gushes from your nose. It leaks from your ass. You can smell it, your own spunk oozing from your pores, rising up in the back of your throat.
You fall to your knees and you know it is done: She has fucked you.
Tomorrow you will eat her apple. And every day after that.