Forbidden Fruit
Dawn Johnson, hotel manager, peered nervously through a crack in the curtains over the old bay window. The guest from room 3 pulled slowly out of the car park, tyres crunching on the gravel, manoeuvred past the flint wall and through the rustic wooden gate, and finally disappeared down the leafy, canopied road. Only when he was out of sight did she let out the breath she’d been holding. She straightened up, brushed down her navy suit jacket, and put on the practiced smile she wore when she needed to speak to people.
She turned around, and nearly squeaked in shock when she saw the entire hotel staff behind her, watching her.
“Has he gone?” asked Luke, the receptionist.
Dawn fixed her smile again. “Uh, yes, Luke, yes. He’s gone. Yes. Well done! Another breakfast rush served without a hitch. Yes, well done everyone. Um.”
Dawn tried to wipe her sweaty hands on her skirt without being seen, but they were all watching her. Why were they watching her? Why had she ever taken on this job when she was clearly not cut out to manage anybody?
“Can we… go?” asked the chef, Petra.
“Oh! Yes! Um, Mary and Reba, please see to the rooms. The rest of you, uh, thank you and… um… have a good break?”
The hotel staff were used to this kind of thing from Dawn, but Dawn mentally kicked herself for such a lame conclusion as she scurried away to hide in her bedroom.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She’d been the hotel manager for months now… well, nearly two months. She should be better than this, and yet every time—every single day!—that she had to give a speech, she panicked and flubbed it, then fled like a little mouse.
She shut the bedroom door behind her and bolted it, and collapsed against the wall. She was really a big softie—ahem, sorry, a petite softie—and she got flustered at anything even resembling personal conflict. She absolutely wasn’t ready to be the manager of such a nice hotel.
As the manager, she lived in the hotel full time now. She still hadn’t finished unpacking, and the floor of her room was strewn with half-empty boxes. She refused to let the housekeepers, Mary and Reba, in to tidy up, partly because she didn’t want anybody to have to pick up after her, but also because she couldn’t bear the thought of letting people into her private space. Everywhere else in the hotel, she was responsible for everything, but in here she could relax. Any cross-over between those two spheres was unthinkable.
Dawn looked at herself in the mirror and scowled. She saw nothing in that mirror worth admiring. Oh, her face was pretty enough and she kept in good shape, but acknowledging her strengths felt like wicked vanity. And vanity wasn’t proper for a young woman. Instead, she found herself focusing on all the things she hated: her sloping shoulders, her flat hair, her small, pointy breasts. Ugh.
She needed to get away from the hotel for a while. A bike ride always made her feel better. She had time, although there was a heatwave and there had been reports of people collapsing… No, she was resolved. She needed to get away, and she would go out for a bike ride. The heat wasn’t as bad here as it was in the city; the trees would give her some shade, and she’d complete a circuit of the three villages before she got worn out. There was nothing to worry about.
There were five outfits hanging in Dawn’s closet. Four of them were almost identical jacket-and-skirt combinations, grey and black and navy. The only outfit that was for fun was her exercise kit, and it was by far the outfit that Dawn liked the best. The kit was a matching set of skin-tight, royal blue spandex: cycling shorts and sports bra. She’d owned it since her days at university, and she lavished more love and care on that kit than on any human relationship. As a result, it was as soft and springy as the day she’d bought it. She loved the feel of the material between her fingers.
She dropped her crucifix—a relic of her Catholic upbringing, since she had lapsed years ago—on the bedside table, then shrugged off her pinstripe jacket and unbuttoned her blouse but did not remove it. Even in the privacy of her own bedroom she felt uncomfortable without clothes. When it was necessary to expose her body, she covered up again as fast as possible, and made sure she wouldn’t see herself in the interim. She draped a towel over the mirror, took a breath, and shucked off the blouse. Once it was carefully hung up in the closet, she paused again before taking off the padded push-up bra. Like every other girl at her high school, she’d stuffed her bra with tissue paper to make it look like she had breasts sooner than she did. Unlike every other girl at high school, Dawn was still waiting for hers to come through. After double checking that the mirror was covered, she unclasped the bra and tossed it aside, then quickly pulled on the sports bra. It fit her like she’d bought it yesterday.
Once her sports bra was in place, she finally kicked off her shoes and, in a single well-practiced manoeuvre, pushed down her unzipped skirt and pulled up the knee-length cycling shorts. They clung to her toned thighs and hugged the curves of her buttocks.
A couple of ankle socks and some white trainers completed the set. She pulled down the towel from the mirror to replace it on the rack, and as she did so couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked like a proper athlete. Her legs and arms and abs were perfectly toned… No, she chided herself! Wicked! Don’t be vain! She reached for her baggiest T-shirt, plain white, and tugged it over her head. That would do. Now she couldn’t see her bare midriff or any hint of her shape, and nor could anybody else, which was as it should be.
Composed, but secretly hoping that nobody would see her, she stepped back out into the hotel. It was a refurbished old country house, with polished wooden wall panels and lush carpets and a big chandelier hanging in the main hall. She walked as fast as she dared down the grand staircase towards the door.
“Dawn, there’s a message for you.”
She spun to face the receptionist. Be calm, she told herself. He can’t see anything untoward. Nothing except this ugly T-shirt, whispered another part of her mind. Don’t let him see that you’re nervous.
“Oh, Luke, I was just… You know, you, um, really should call me Miss Johnson when we’re at work.” She cringed as soon as she finished speaking. She knew his eyes would drink in her unprofessional attire. She’d read that piece of advice in a management textbook, praising the virtues of professional distance between employers and employees. “Who is the message from?”
“Sam—that is, Mr Hill—said he has some new produce for you to try. He’ll call back.”
“Ok, that’s fine. Thank you. I’m just going out.”
“It’s really hot today, Miss Johnson.”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll be fine.”
She flushed and fled for the exit.
The serpent came from nowhere, hissing and rearing in the middle of the road, like no snake she’d ever seen before.
“Jesus!” she cried.
Dawn tried to swerve, and toppled head over wheels, careening off the road and into a tree. The front wheel of the bike was bent and useless, her arm was bruised and there was a nasty gash on her leg.
The serpent, thankfully, was gone by the time she dragged herself and the useless bike back onto the road.
She was halfway around the circuit, and already she was drenched in sweat. When she’d set out, it had seemed like it would be a pleasant day after all, with a cool breeze and plenty of shade.
Twenty minutes into the ride, just as she reached the stretch between overhanging branches and became exposed to the merciless Sun, the wind suddenly died.
Then the serpent reared its head, and she was stranded in the middle of the countryside with a broken bike, half injured. She had no water and no phone. And she had no choice but to walk the rest of the way home, pulling the bike with her.
Ten minutes later, Dawn was sweating harder than she ever had. She quite liked a little sheen on her skin, but today the rivulets were running down her forehead and stinging her eyes, her clothes were drenched and her hands were slick on the bike frame. This was far more than a sheen. She was parched, and woozy, and exhausted, and the Sun was still beating down on her.
Finally she dropped the bike, wearily deciding that she’d have to pick it up later, and continued trudging on foot.
I’m going to die out here, she thought to herself dispassionately, on the road that I use every day. I hope nobody realises how stupid I’ve been.
Just as she was sure she would collapsed from heatstroke at any moment, she saw a man ahead of her, standing by the side of the road. Thank God! She tried to call out, but her throat was dry and she could only croak. Fortunately, he noticed her anyway, and hurried over with a large jug.
“Here,” he said, pressing the jug towards her lips. “Drink this.”
Dawn needed no further encouragement, upending the bottle and letting the cool, refreshing liquid pour into her mouth and over her chin.
She lowered the jug. She’d expected water. Hmm. No, not water. It was sweet… really sweet… and rich… delicious, actually. She had to know what this was. But first, she needed more of it, and tipped the jug back again. Whatever it was, she loved it!
Apple juice, she realised. It was apple juice. The best apple juice she’d ever tasted.
Before she knew it, the jug was empty. She licked her lips and fingers to catch the drops that had missed her mouth.
“Looks like you really needed that, Miss Johnson” said her Good Samaritan, with a chuckle. She looked up, and realised with some surprise that it was Sam Hill, one of her local suppliers for the hotel.
“I did.”
“Come on, let’s get you inside and you can put your feet up.” He gestured to his cottage, off to one side of the road. She hadn’t realised he lived here.
“I probably shouldn’t,” said Dawn weakly. She should probably go back to the hotel, now that she’d rehydrated. She had so much work to do. Still, it was quite a long way back, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a little rest. And maybe Sam would give her more delicious apple juice… But, no, she had to get back. “Thank you for the drink.”
“You’re welcome. I was bringing it to you anyway. It’s one of the items I want to sell to you.” Sam frequently supplied home-grown organic fruit and vegetables for Dawn’s hotel restaurant. He didn’t grow enough to farm commercially, but she liked buying from local suppliers like Sam because they focused on quality rather than quantity. He was a man of excellent taste, and was privately wealthy enough to share that taste with his customers.
If this was a business meeting, said a voice at the back of her mind, there wasn’t anything wrong with stopping here. No need to run herself to death. Plus, she would only get more delicious things if she stayed.
“Maybe I should rest a while, after all. If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll have a look at that graze too,” he added, pointing at Dawn’s leg.
As Sam led her up the driveway to his front door, Dawn glanced up at the ivy-covered trellises and the old-style windows. Sam’s house was an old country cottage, smaller than the hotel but from the same period, situated in the mostly wooded region between the three villages. He lived there by himself, and somehow managed to keep it in excellent condition.
Dawn had heard quite a lot about Sam since she’d worked at the hotel. He had a bit of a reputation amongst the other employees, and even some locals, for being quite strange. Dawn had always found him polite and charming, if a little formal and intense. He had a habit of staring at people a little too much for comfort, but Dawn had a cousin who did the same and she was sure it wasn’t Sam’s fault.
Today, as she walked behind him, she found herself looking at him properly for perhaps the first time. He had black hair and a scruffy black goatee, and he was tall and well built. Her eyes roved over his broad shoulders and lingered on his butt and his tight jeans. Why was he even wearing jeans in this heat? It was a nice butt, no doubt. Dawn suddenly stopped herself. Where had that thought come from? Obviously it was a nice butt, but she’d never admired anyone’s butt before, and certainly not Sam’s. The heat really was getting to her. A little rest, and perhaps another bottle of apple juice, would do her the world of good.
“My God, why is it so hot in here?” If Dawn had expected it to be cooler indoors, she was sadly disappointed. The moment she walked into Sam’s entrance hall, she was hit by a wall of even more intense heat.
Sam shrugged. “It’s hot outside and the house is well insulated. It doesn’t bother me, but I suppose I’m used to the heat now. It reminds me of home. There’s a fan in the living room.”
He led her through the foyer, with whitewashed walls and dark wooden beams, into a far more sumptuous room with gold wallpaper and plush sofas and chairs. This room seemed far more suited to a palatial mansion than a quiet country cottage, and yet here it was. There was a great gilt-framed mirror on one wall, over an empty marble fireplace, and in the corner a grandfather clock that ticked incessantly. Even the light fixtures seemed old. Dawn felt the tiniest pang of jealousy. Her hotel was bigger than the cottage, but not a single room in the hotel had as many nice things as this living room. The only modern appliance in the room was a free-standing electric fan, positioned in front of the sofa.
“You just sit here,” Sam said, motioning to the sofa. “I’ll get you another drink.”
“God, yes! Um, that is, thank you.”
“You should probably take off that damp T-shirt. It’s not good to wear that inside.”
Before she had a chance to respond, he was gone and she was alone. She couldn’t take her top off! That just wasn’t right, whipping off her clothes in someone else’s house. She’d been raised to believe that people just didn’t do things like that. Besides, if she did, Sam would see the shape of her breasts; he’d see how small they were…
But it was cloyingly hot, and it would be nice to get a little air on her skin. The fan was nice, but it was doing little more than moving the warm air around and she could barely feel it through her T-shirt… which was dripping wet. Oh, and it was dripping all over Sam’s nice upholstery. That was just rude. Sam had been a perfectly nice host and here she was getting sweat on his sofa. Besides, he didn’t seem to mind. He’d suggested it. In fact, when she thought about it, it would be an insult to keep her top on.
She shivered as the draught from the fan passed over her exposed skin. That felt good…
Having made herself more comfortable, Dawn finally realised that Sam had left behind the empty bottle of juice that she’d necked. She reached over and picked it up. To her frustration there was nothing left, even around the rim. It was a gallon jug, and she’d finished it in less than a minute. What was keeping Sam with that drink?
The bottle’s label was in the style of a Renaissance painting. It depicted a naked man and woman (their modesty concealed by fig leaves) in the middle of an open, pastoral landscape, reaching up together and plucking a red apple from a tree branch above their heads. It said ‘Edenian Gardens Apple Juice: Reclaim the innocence of Paradise’.
Comparing your apples to the forbidden fruit was a little presumptuous. Although, if anything had been able to tempt Adam and Eve to sin then Dawn supposed it would have to taste like Sam’s delicious apple juice.
Eventually, Sam came back and handed her a glass, which she gulped down greedily, letting the liquid splash and dribble down her chin. It wasn’t elegant, but she had no time for that. She needed more, wasn’t that obvious?
Halfway down the glass, Dawn stopped and pulled a face.
“What is this?”
“It’s water.”
“Oh. Um… I don’t suppose you have any more of that apple juice?”
“You liked it?”
“Oh yes, it was wonderful!” No sooner were the words out than Dawn kicked herself. He was still a supplier, after all. Calling his produce wonderful was no way to negotiate. But it was wonderful.
“I only juiced the one batch, I’m afraid. But you can have one of the apples I used. It’s a new variety I’ve been breeding. I call it the Edenian Red.”
“I saw the bottle label. So you’re growing the Forbidden Fruit that caused Adam and Eve to be expelled from the Garden of Eden?”
Sam chuckled. “Not at all. In fact, this is the exact opposite. With one bite of this apple, you’ll reclaim the innocence of Paradise.”
“The slogan is a bit corny.”
“It’s a work in progress. Anyway, would you like one?” He gave a cheeky little smile. “Go ahead. Sponge away that original sin.”
Dawn tried to seem less interested than she was. “I’ll try one. Why not?”
“Here you go.”
Dawn held the fruit up to the light in front of her face. Her mouth was already watering, but she was determined to do it properly. She was a hotelier and restaurateur and this was a supplier’s ware to be appraised. She had to be professional. God, it looked wonderful. It was deep red, perfectly smooth, and shone like a ruby against the light. Not a single bruise or nick or sign of russetting. Even compared to Sam’s usual fare, this looked exquisite. Compared to any other apple, it looked exquisite, as if common apples were pale imitations of this majestic ideal.
With agonising slowness she placed her lips against the skin, as if kissing a lover’s cheek, parted her teeth and bit down with a gentle crunch. Sweet nectar oozed between her teeth and danced on her tongue, and she slurped it down. She bit again, ripping into the crisp skin and moist, pale flesh. Her restraint dissolved, she attacked it voraciously. Bite after bite pulped instantly between her teeth, the flesh so soft she didn’t even need to chew. It was heavenly, glorious, so good that she felt as though she could taste it all the way to the pit of her stomach. Better than tender steak, better than chocolate, better than anything. She barely noticed the juice dribbling over her lips and running in rivulets down her chin.
It took scant more than a minute for her to devour the whole thing, core and all. Once it was gone, she could feel heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. She felt like she was glowing. She sucked the juice from her fingers, and soon it was gone, and she found herself aching because she wanted more.
“I’m impressed, Dawn. It certainly seems as though you enjoyed that!”
“Huh?”
“Oh, you don’t mind if I call you Dawn, do you? It’s just, we’re getting on so well and it seems so formal calling you ‘Miss Johnson’ all the time. Since we’re in my home, I hope you’ll permit me.”
“Okay,” said Dawn, dreamily. “That sounds fine.”
“Let’s have a look at that graze on your leg now,” he said, taking her leg in his strong hands and examining the scraped skin and dried blood. He had a wet cloth in his hands, with which he dabbed that area. “We don’t want you damaged, do we?”
“No.” Being damaged was an odd turn of phrase, thought Dawn, but it sounded unpleasant. She liked the cool tingling of the cloth on her skin.
“There!” Sam said. “You’re fine after all.
Dawn craned her neck to look at the gash, and was amazed that the skin was completely unhurt. Not a bump, scratch or mark. “You’re a miracle worker!” she gasped.
Sam smiled ruefully. “It’s been a while since I’ve been called that. It was just gravel and mud stuck to the skin,” he said. Dawn wasn’t sure she believed him, but was glad that she didn’t have to worry about infection or anything.
“You know, Dawn, you still look a little hot. Maybe taking your T-shirt off wasn’t enough. Maybe you should take the rest of your clothes off too.”
Her response was ingrained and immediate. “I couldn’t do that!”
“Don’t be nervous,” he said. “There’s nothing to be shy about. We’re both adults here, and it can’t be comfortable like that.”
Dawn had to agree that it wasn’t comfortable. The air on her skin felt nice now that she’d taken off her T-shirt. If she took off the rest, wouldn’t it feel even better? Still, part of her wasn’t convinced.
“It’s just… it’s not right.”
“Who says that? If it makes you feel better, I’ll take my clothes off first. Then you won’t be the only one.”
Dawn couldn’t help but stare as he calmly unbuttoned his shirt and let it flutter to the ground, exposing a perfectly sculpted six-pack and bulging pecs, then unzipped his jeans and pushed them down. His shoes and socks were already gone—when had that happened?—and he kicked the jeans into the corner of the room. Then all that was left was his Y-fronts, which soon followed and—wow!—what a cock! Cock? No, dick. No, penis! It was a penis; that was the word. But, wow, if there was ever a penis that deserved to be called a cock, this was it. It just hung there, between his thighs, long and thick, swaying gently in the breeze of the fan. He wasn’t even slightly bashful about it.
“As you can see,” Sam continued, once he was completely naked, “I don’t believe in shame in this house. Now, be honest, the thought of being naked… does it actually bother you?”
Cock… “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said, deep down, does the thought of being naked bother you?”
Dawn continued to stare at the pendulous cock. It was funny, but she knew that once upon a time she’d have been too embarrassed even to look a man in the eyes if she found him attractive, and now she was staring unabashed at Sam’s naked cock.
She realised that her fingers were already toying with the small zip at the back of her sports bra, and she still hadn’t answered Sam’s question. Did it bother her? She’d been raised to believe that people didn’t act this way, especially in front of people they barely knew. In the back of her mind she knew she used to be so shy about her breasts that she even felt uncomfortable letting her boyfriends look at them (which was one reason she hadn’t had a boyfriend in several years). More than once she’d actually worn her push-up and padded bras during sex.
But did the thought of being naked bother her now?
“I guess not,” she said, softly, and with a single motion unzipped her top and shrugged it off.
“That’s better, isn’t it? Here, you can put it on the side table here.”
She had to admit, it did feel better. In fact, she couldn’t really understand why she had ever thought it was wrong. Now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
Why did it feel like the most natural thing in the world? Something wasn’t right. Something…
Wow, Sam really did have a long cock. What must that monster cock feel like, rammed into her pussy over and over? Not that she’d ever actually sleep with Sam. She had no romantic feelings for him. But there was no harm in looking, was there? There was no harm in thinking on what might be, or appreciating an attractive body when she saw one.
“I don’t know why you hide yourself away all the time, Dawn. Your tits are delightfully perky.”
“Really? Thank you!” Dawn beamed. She’d never thought about it like that before. Apparently size wasn’t everything—although with Sam’s cock it was a lot.
“Don’t feel you have to keep the shorts on, either.”
Her shorts? Well… they weren’t any more comfortable than the top had been, and she’d never felt as self-conscious about her ass as she’d been about her breasts. Oh, why not? It couldn’t hurt. She kicked off the trainers, and slid a thumb into her waistband. She hesitated, for a moment, wondering whether to take off her panties as well. She’d never been completely naked in somebody’s house before, but they were already soaking wet (from sweat… mostly) and would only get worse if she kept them on. Besides, if Sam wasn’t shy of his… enormous package, then why should she be shy of her little box? She was actually quite proud of it, particularly the trimmed pubic hair in a little strip leading to her pussy. Having made up her mind, she hooked her thumb into her shorts and panties and pushed them both down at the same time.
“Very nice,” said Sam appreciatively, eyes trailing up and down her body. Usually she’d punch guys who looked at her the way he was, but she didn’t feel like it right then. Why shouldn’t people enjoy her body? Why shouldn’t she enjoy people enjoying her body? So instead of punching him, she leaned back to give him a better view.
“Is that better?” she asked. “I think you look really good too. Really good.”
“We must look just like Adam and Eve, before eating the forbidden fruit made them ashamed of their nakedness.”
Wait, what? Something was wrong about that. Something about shame. She should pull her shorts on again. She should get out of here… Then Sam handed her another apple, and suddenly it didn’t seem to matter anymore. She could get dressed afterwards, if it was still important.
This time, eating it was even messier. Something about it just meant she couldn’t control herself, and now drops of juice had splattered on the floor.
When she’d glutted herself and drifted down from her dreamy high, she realised what she’d done.
“I’m sorry, Sam! I got juice all over your carpet.”
“That’s okay,” said Sam. “I’ll just get Michelle to clean it up.”
“Michelle?”
“Michelle is my house guest. Oh, of course you haven’t met. I’ll introduce you. Come this way.”
They passed out of the palatial living room and back through the foyer into a kitchen on the other side. This was far more appropriate for a country cottage, with wooden tables and wide windows along one side of the room. There was a coat rack behind the door and on one of the hooks was a ring of keys, which Sam picked up and took to an innocuous door in the foyer, under the stairs. Behind the door was a stairwell leading down into the darkness. Sam walked straight in without any hesitation, but Dawn had a hard time seeing the steps in front of her. It was almost pitch black on the stairway and there were no lights. The only way Dawn could move forward without tumbling to her death was to clutch the wall and feel for each step with her foot, moving slowly. It never occurred to her to stop or turn back, or even ask Sam if he had a light.
At last the stairwell opened up on a plain concrete room. If possible it felt hotter than upstairs because the air was still and humid. It was mostly below ground level, as Dawn could tell from a narrow window at the top of the opposite wall, where Dawn could see a flower bed. It was brighter down here. Sunlight streamed in the window and pooled around a naked young girl shackled to the wall by her hands and feet, bathing her in soft light and making her golden hair shine. So this was Michelle? For a moment, Dawn was so struck by the girl’s beauty that she didn’t even realise that she must have been kept there against her will.
Women shouldn’t be chained up naked in basements, insisted a little voice at the back of Dawn’s mind. Not that there was anything wrong with being naked, as she now realised. In fact, Sam probably had a good reason for keeping her down here. Yes, that was it. She’d ask Sam and he’d explain why the girl was here, and that would be fine.
In fact, it was Sam that spoke first.
“Dawn, this is Michelle. She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? A real angel.”
Dawn had to confess she was. That is, she wasn’t attracted to women as a rule, but the way this girl’s ample chest moved up and down with her breathing, the way tears made her eyes glimmer in the sunlight, the way her lips quivered as they approached… she looked so vulnerable and so—what was the word?—fuckable. But Dawn wasn’t attracted to women, she reminded herself, squeezing her legs together absent-mindedly.
“Sam?” the girl whimpered. “I thought you were gone. Oh God, oh God, oh God…”
“Hush now, Michelle, don’t waste your breath. I’m giving Dawn a tour.”
“Please let me go. I won’t—”
“I said be quiet!” She was silenced by a great slap from Sam across her face, thrown so forcefully that even Dawn gasped.
No! thought Dawn. That’s not right! Stop him!
Look at her, thought another part. With a single slap, a single command, she is completely cowed. This is what power looks like. Real power. Power that doesn’t rely on “professional distance”. This is the kind of power you can’t earn, only command. And it’s so… sexy.
Now the girl was trying to twist away from Sam and curl up against the wall. Mostly this was prevented by the chains, but Dawn could see the scar lines across her back, particularly around the shoulder blades. Had she been whipped? How much whipping did it take to cause those ugly lines? How must she have screamed when that was happening?
No no no, this is wrong, so wrong…
Sam caught Dawn’s eye.
“Michelle here has been very naughty.” Dawn felt herself relax. Now it made sense! She knew there would be a reason! “Michelle and her sister Gabrielle were snooping around my property, trying to get me in trouble, weren’t you? Gabrielle got away, but Michelle was always the ringleader. She’s caused me no small amount of grief over the years.”
“Why?”
“It was just a misunderstanding, to begin with. I’m trying to fix the mistakes I made, but is she grateful?” He shook his head. “Michelle doesn’t like my apples, do you Michelle?”
Dawn was horrified. How could anyone not like Sam’s apples? Anyone who couldn’t appreciate such glorious foods deserved to be treated like an animal. It did not occur to her to wonder why her reaction to that was so much stronger than her reaction to Michelle’s captivity.
For the first time, Michelle turned towards Dawn. The girl was trembling, but it wasn’t just fear in her eyes. There was something else, something Dawn thought vaguely resembled concern, but also fire.
“Did-did you eat his apples? How many? Stop, you don’t know what you’re doing—”
Another slap across the face from Sam silenced her. Somebody moaned, and it surprised Dawn when she realised it had been her.
Sam raised an eyebrow in Dawn’s direction. “If you’d like to play with her, you’re more than welcome. There are some implements on the rack there.”
Dawn stepped forward slowly, always staring at Michelle. She knelt down in front of the girl and placed both hands on her tear-drop breasts. They were soft, so soft, and pliable. Dawn squeezed them as hard as she could, no longer caring that the girl they were attached to might be hurt. It just didn’t matter.
Until this moment she’d never been attracted to women before, but Michelle really was beautiful and it would be a crime not to make the most of such a fine specimen when Sam had gone to the trouble of making her available.
With a firm hand, Dawn held Michelle by the chin, then forced her tongue down the girl’s throat. She tasted sweet. Dawn practically devoured her face with voracious kisses, biting her tongue and lips for no other reason than she could.
When Dawn pulled back, Michelle was sobbing, which only aroused Dawn more. She raked her manicured nails across Michelle’s tits and stomach, and shivered when the girl screamed. Dawn was so turned on right now! She wanted to plunge three fingers into her sopping pussy, and maul it until she came… but what did she need her own fingers for when there was a girl right in front of her, powerless to resist? Michelle wasn’t using her tongue for anything important. Yeah, that tongue would feel good in her cunt, she was sure. It seemed strange for a moment that she’d never thought to use anyone’s face to get herself off before. If you had the power, it seemed the most sensible thing in the world.
Getting to her feet, she positioned her pussy in front of Michelle’s face.
“Lick it,” she ordered, pulling Michelle’s head towards her snatch. “Lick it!” Dawn’s fingers worked into Michelle’s golden tresses, holding her so close that she couldn’t breathe, and only by licking could she hope to be free. Michelle’s tongue was like a wriggling serpent, slithering into Dawn’s most sensitive pleasure spots. Soon, Dawn was humping the girl’s face, lost in the euphoria.
“She’s very talented, isn’t she?” said Sam, watching from across the room. “And you work her just like a pro!”
Dawn’s shoulders tensed as a wave of pleasure passed through her, and she held Michelle even closer.
“Actually,” Sam continued, “this reminds me. The original forbidden fruit was from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. It was only through sin that mankind ever came to know the difference.”
“Oh God, right there!” moaned Dawn, throwing her head back.
“It seems fairly clear to me that good and evil were never part of God’s plan. They’re just silly words that people use to justify their actions and condemn others. Being pure means casting aside such notions.”
“God, yes! Yes! Yes! I’m cumming!”
Dawn saw stars, and wasn’t even aware that her knees had buckled, and that she’d landed in a heap on the floor. The next she knew, she was leaning on Sam’s shoulder and he was helping her back upstairs. She glanced behind them and grinned to see Michelle doing her best to disappear into the wall, completely unable to wipe off the pussy juice that covered her mouth and nose and dripped over her chin.
Dawn got her balance back halfway up the stairs and dutifully followed Sam back to the living room. He sat on the sofa and she moved to do the same, but he said,
“Actually, Dawn, why don’t you kneel on the carpet, there?”
So Dawn did so. It seemed a bit of an odd request, but she didn’t mind. If he’d rather that she knelt on the floor, she was happy to oblige.
“What did you think of Michelle?”
“Fucking Hell she was good. I’ve never had an orgasm so fast in my life!”
“It didn’t bother you that she was locked up?”
“Not really. It probably would have done before, but like you said, morality is just a meaningless abstract concept. I’ve played the good girl all my life, and I’ve never had more fun than today.”
“I’m so glad you think so. Have another apple.”
Dawn didn’t need telling twice, and it was gone so quickly that she almost seemed to have inhaled it.
“You know,” said Sam, “Michelle is also a wonderful cocksucker. I bet you’re a great cocksucker too. Why don’t you give it a try?”
“Excuse me?”
“Suck my cock.”
“Oh, okay.”
Dawn vaguely recalled that she didn’t like giving blowjobs. She had plainly refused to even kiss her old boyfriend’s cock. But Sam was different, and anyway it didn’t really matter what she wanted. In fact, at the moment Dawn was hard pressed to think of anything she wanted, so sucking Sam’s dick and making him happy was as good as anything else.
She took his cock in both hands and started rubbing up and down. Because of the heat it was covered in sweat and so were her hands, so she needed no lubrication. She roved over the whole length of it from his balls to his head, and stared in wonderment as it expanded under her touch. She’d thought it was large before, but by the time it was fully erect it was over a foot long and the head was larger than an egg. She kissed it tenderly on the tip, and gave it butterfly kisses all the way down the shaft to the base and back up the other side. Only then, with the veins bulging along its length, did she take the head inside her mouth.
“You’re great at that, Dawn.” A jolt of pleasure buzzed through her as she swirled her tongue around the head. “I’m so glad I chose you. Try deep-throating me now.”
Without hesitation, she guided the enormous cock to the back of her throat and inched forward slowly. Fighting the gag reflex, she felt the giant head pass her tonsils and enter her oesophagus. It filled her whole mouth, stretched out the muscles of her throat uncomfortably, so she breathed through her nose.
“Yes, that’s very good.”
When it had gone in as far as she could take it (less than half its length inside her mouth), she pulled back until the head brushed her tonsils again, then lunged forward and took it in again. This time, it went in slightly further, but not by much. Again, she pulled back and lunged forward, and again and again, until at last she’d worked an extra inch of the dick into her throat... and finally, as it was at its deepest point, the whole cock twitched and spasmed, and shot load after load of cum into her stomach. It was still shooting when she pulled it out into her mouth, and ropes landed on her tongue and splashed across her face. It was sweet, like apples. She spooned as much of it as she could until her hands and gobbled it down, and once she’d swallowed it all and licked her fingers clean, she let out a small burp.
“Dawn, that was very good. With a little more practice, I think you’ll be able to take me all. You could well become the finest cocksucker I’ve ever had. And that’s high praise indeed, considering Lilith had a bifurcated tongue.”
“Thanks, Sam!”
“Ah, yes, this ‘Sam’ thing. I think I’d rather you called me ‘my Lord’ from now on.”
“Of course, my Lord.” That made much more sense, Dawn realised. She knew now that the thought of doing anything for herself was laughable. Sam commanded; she performed to the best of her ability. That was just how it worked.
Her own thoughts and feelings, opinions and aspirations, were completely meaningless. That was now obvious. How strange that she’d so recently believed they mattered. It was quite amusing that she could have been so wrong for so long, but at least now she understood.
“You see, the third effect of the forbidden fruit was to give Adam and Eve free will. Before that, they were just golems... automatons… serving God much in the same way that you now serve me. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all!”
“Good. As a reward, lie down on the floor and masturbate until you cum. Put on a little show.”
Immediately Dawn flung herself onto her back carpet and rammed both hands into her cunt. She started moaning almost instantly.
“Honestly, I think Michelle and Gabrielle were being a bit overzealous trying to stop me. I am just restoring the world to the way God made it. Who are they to complain about that? Why object to this after complaining so much when I gave Eve the other fruit in the first place?
“As for what happens next,” he continued, “I want you to start serving my Edenian Reds in your hotel, and using them in your dishes at the restaurant. Once enough people have become golems, we’ll expand to other establishments in other cities. We’ll spread the word far and wide, until people all over the world come begging for a taste of paradise.”
“Look at me, my Lord! Look at my filthy pussy! I’m about to cum, Lord. I’m almost there! Watch me cum!”
Dawn screamed in ecstasy. As she rode the waves of pleasure washing through her, Sam looked down on the work he’d wrought, and he saw that it was very, very good.
“Soon, my radiant Dawn,” he said with a smile, “the whole world will be as pure and innocent as you are.”
“I’m cumming! All for you, my Lord! Cummmmming!“