The Apple of Lust

By

Susan Waterflower Bell.

There was a certain magic to the woods that surrounded the old Victorian manner house that sat on a hill not far from town. The old house had set abounded for some time, and had been on market since a time out of mind. But one day a certain charitable couple moved in, and turned it into a all boys home. Now this home had rules, and one of those rules was to avoid the forest, even the locals did for strange and wonderful things had been known to happen there.

Rumors where abounded, but those where just silly little rumors. Nothing more right, I mean it was just another forest right, though the trees seemed to grow closer together than normal, so close they seemed to block out the wind and seemed to hold in the heat even in the depth of winter. This included the tops too, those had become so entangled that even the strong rays of the sun could not reach the floor below.

This had resulted in the forest floor becoming encased in shadow's all year around. Pitch black like the witching hour some parts where, and those parts are where the demons where said to lurk. Those parts where home to foulest of all rumors. Tales that ended with the would be adventurer meeting a horrible end at the hands of something unspoken and lost to the flow of time.

Then there was another rumor, one more light hearted, more cute. The rumor was that somewhere in a clearing in the forest there stood a little brick cottage with a brown thatched roof. Brown flat stones, sunk into the ground lead up to the house in a leap frog pattern. Surrounding the house was collection of apple trees, that always seemed to bear fruit no matter the season. Of course apples where not the only thing grown in this clear, other fruits and vegetables could be found growing in a small square section of tilled land. A old hand painted sign reading 'Little Peters beware' could be found stuck in the ground. The sign, weather beaten and covered with vines. Seemed comical at best and foreboding at worst.

Now for generations it had been popular sport among the young men in the town, who possessed about them in equal measurements cunning, bravery, and curiosity. With a little luck, skill and quick wit for good taste thrown in. To venture into the woods and try to recover an apple to show to there peers or to present to there sweetheart. It was the closet thing to a 'Grail Quest' around.

Ringo was one such boy on one such 'Grail Quest' The youth of fourteen had been feeling very lonely of late and had taken to walking in the woods that surrounded the old manner house he lived in with a dozen or so boys around his age. Being shy by nature, the young hoped to prove himself by snatching one of the apples from the fable tree. For such a trophy would bring him honor and fame.

But as he stood there, looking down one of the old weather worn trails, he felt a sudden chill run down his spin. Though around midday, he still had to call upon the aid of a flashlight to help him see the path in front of him. His blood ran cold and his mind froze with fear as he started down the path. Carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

The young boy, had to mind where he stepped for fallen branch's lay about. The loud snapping noise of each twig caused the young raven haired boy to jump with fright. The deeper he pushed, the more the tension seemed to mount. No friendly owl offered a hoot, nor song bird offer to lend its voice in melody. The whole forest seemed still. And dare he say it void of life.

The minutes ticked on and on, the boy treading lightly made fairly good time down the clearer marked trails, and soon the gentle babble of a brook could be heard from somewhere near. The sound of flowing water, caused Ringo to smile a little. 'This forest is not so bad' the boy thought as he sat down to listen to the water splash over the rocks. 'Its kind of like the one hundred acre woods from those old pooh books my grandmother use to read me when I was yet a child.' Slowly a small smile came to play upon his lips as he sat down and allowed his mind to wonder a bit. So lost in his nostalgia bliss, he was. That he did not notice some stray vines creeping along path. Or the fact that some trees did seem to grow faces and peer toward him with lust filled eyes.

At the three minute mark, a cool breeze blew through the forest. The gentle breath of Zephyrus kissed the boys hot cheeks and brought a sense of cooling to him. But as the wind traveled through the forest. It seemed to whisper to all the trees and plant. 'A Traveler is coming' or 'A young boy of certain beauty is coming. Please treat him fair, not to rough or not to hard. But drink you fill from the cup of lust.'

But Ringo knew none of this and so gathering his strength he pressed on again. Back down the old weather worn trail, through the low hanging branches seemed to swing back and forth with each passing second. And the vines ever present seems to follow him, crawling along like a snake on the ground.

Soon the tiny hairs on the back of his next started to stand up and like a frighten doe he looked up and looked around him. Something deep inside him was telling him to run, and fun he did, away from the vines that where giving chance and away from the low hanging branch's that swung back and forth with such speed one may called them possessed. But the fool, he had no idea that they where leading him on. Like the hound of the huntsman they where sending him in the direction they wanted him to go.

Five or six minutes passed in this manner, and before long Ringo found himself standing at the edge of the forest. The ground sloped down from where he was standing reveling a fertile track of land. A creek bottom no doubt. For a minute he stood there, peering at the vast tracks of green lush grass and row upon row of crops. One row showed vine ripen tomatoes the size of ones fist, lush and red they where in a color that brought to mind a highly polished and refined ruby.

Next to them was a row of sweet corn, with ears the size of a mans hand, beside those where could be seen a row of water mellows, black diamonds and Georgina Bella's the queens of the vines. And so on and so on.

"Its like the garden of Eden!" Cried Ringo quickly removing his sandals and tossing those to the side. And just like a naughty little boy he started to run down the hill, relishing the feel of the cool, still damp grass between his toes and the cool crisp breath of late summer blowing through his hair.

"I've found it! I've found it!" He called out with glee as he ran to the outer edge of the garden. His joy was beyond measure.

With whimsical glee he ran through the garden till at last he came to the center where a half dozen or so apple trees stood. There branch's heavy with wonderful smelling fruit. The apples where the size of full crowners or bigger and they gave off the most wonderful of scents. There skin shown brightly in the afternoon sun and some even gleamed with the faint traces of evening dew.

"The tree of life.." Ringo said peering up at the apple tree. Ringo had been born into a strict Anglo-Catholic family or he had been till his coming to the house. The church his late grandmother and father belonged too had been one of certain beauty, and was known for its beautiful stain glass windows. All of whom share one common theme, they all certain biblical things about them. Most of those where 'Snapshots' from the new testament. But those could easily be forgotten and indeed the young boy had forgotten most all save one.

The one in question centered on the passage from the Book of Genesis, the one about the garden and the apple tree. The one where the snake tempts eve by darning her to eat from the forbidden fruit. Fr. Noel, the then rector of St. Thomas had once preached a sermon on the passage. At the height of the message, with his zeal building he had pointed to the window. His words where lost, but since that day, the boy had both feared and respected the power of apples.

So with trembling hands, and shallow breath the boy reached up and took hold of one of red orbs. Quickly he took another one just for good measure, because he was a growing boy and growing boys needed there fruits to grow strong and tall. Or so he had been told by the family physician.

A little smirk graced the boys lips as he peered toward the apple, one bite would note hurt now would it. Of course just one bite to taste the fruit and to prove the old urban legend wrong. And so taking the nip of courage he bite down into the skin and with a bliss filled smile he took a big bite.

As he chewed the apple, something took hold of him. A sudden feeling of warmth spread through his body, he found himself blushing like a bride at the high alter and he felt the blood in his body become chilled. And oddly enough a warmth in his groins appeared.

The boy found himself quickly attacking the apple, biting down upon it more and more. There was something magical about it and his body in turn was responding to the apple. Before he could stop himself, he found himself rubbing his quickly becoming hard cock and groaning with pleasure as his soft hands rubbed the stiffen rod. But that was not enough for the boy, he wanted more, he wanted to surrounded by pleasure, he wanted to bath in pleasure.

Soft pink clouds filled his mind, as he reached down and removed his shorts from his slender frame and quickly discarded the skin tight boy shorts that clad his bottom. Doing his best to mimic the purr of a kitten, he started to rub his crotch again, this time taking his time and being soft and gentle with it.

Each time he was rewarded with a flesh wave of pleasure, that send sharp spikes of pleasure to every fiber of his frail little being. His body was coming like jelly. His breathing harder and harder and his mind, his mind was becoming a slave to the pleasure. Two minute, three time seemed to slow down and then stop all together. His world became blank and his mind clear. All other emotions seemed to stop beside pleasure and lust.

Finally, the young man need something more than stroking his rock hard cock, he need something to go deep inside of him, he need something to be slide inside him. Something big and thick, something that would make him scream and whimper and make him purr like the sex kitten he was quickly becoming.

Quickly the boy started to look around and soon her caught sight of something. Something nice and round, and green too. It was the perfect shape and size for the job he had in mind. Quickly shifting his brain back into action mode for a minute he started toward a old garden basket that had been set aside. Quickly after only a seconds thought he reached down into the basket and pulled out a long, slim cucumber.

Blushing deeply he bend down and gently started to work the gorge into his tight little bottom. His mind then explored as wave upon wave of pleasure flooded his body as he gently forced the thing deeper and deeper until it reached his protest glan.

Once the small chestnut size organ was touched, something akin to a electric charge flooded through his body, that caused his only body to shake as violet wave of pleasure came surging through him. Groaning with lust, the boy quickly withdrew his makeshift dido from his tight bottom, once it was halfway out he forced it in once again, then out and then in again. Sending wave upon wave of pleasure coursing through his body. Finally the boys cock, rock hard and stiff as a board at this point, could not take it. With a sudden jerk it released its load down upon the ground. The sudden release caused the boy to fall down to his knees, his face red and his forehead gleaming with sweat he turned his head toward the clean blue sky.

"Perfect.." He said smiling softy..

And so he stood there, smiling in perfect peace, till something happen. The ground under him opened up and before he could catch himself, dozens upon dozens of thick brown vines had wrapped themselves around his ankles, trapping him in place. Upon noticing this, the boy just stood there in shock and awe as in front of him a large vine shot up in front of him. Quickly the vine charged at him and before Ringo could respond the vine wrapped itself around his wrist, soon the vines had secured themselves and Ringo along with them. They made very handy cuffs.

Try as he might, the boy was totally trapped by the strong vines that held him in place. And oddly enough the boy seemed to enjoy it, yes oddly enough he found himself enjoying being trapped by these strong, brown vines.

Then before his eyes, something happen, it was right out of Tolkien or Lewis for the old willow tree started to move toward him. Its low hanging branch's started to sway back and forth in the later afternoon sunshine. It took maybe only a minute for the tree to reach him, the sight of the tree moving toward him reminded him of a Ent treading through the earth like a man might tread through water.

Ringo took a deep breath and peered toward the tree as it bent down and picked up another apple. Using its long willows like fingers. The willows made a 'Come Hither' notion with the lush's red fruit. At first Ringo was wary, the enchantment was starting to wear then and the boy was starting to come back to his senses now. Reason was starting to take hold and his timid nature was starting to return.

But the boy, flipping a mental coin, opened his mouth and was reward with the apple being pushed into his mouth. Once the apple was firmly in his mouth, he bite down upon it, causing some of the juice to drip down his throat and once more the spell was at work within him. Only this time, the effect was different. The powerful feeling of lust that was filling his body, was also starting to work itself into the very core of his being. So powerful was this effect that the boy could only struggle and wiggle as the need to touch himself grew and grew ever more. But such was denied to him because of the vines wrapped around his arms.

As the boy whimpered and groaned, another vine shot up from the ground, slowly the big, thick vine curled its way toward Ringo little rosebud. Then in a inchworm fashion it worked its tip into his bottom, slowly but surly it started to go inside him.

The willow tree soon followed suit as it many low hanging branch's stroked the young boys flour white bottom, sending after wave of sting rolling into his bottom. Each pass of the willow left a dozen or so tiny, red welts upon the surface of the bottom.

Ringo only felt wave after wave of pleasure from these two acts. His body responded well to the root going into his bottom for his bottom cheeks seemed to tighten up around it and squeeze it with all the strength the boy had. This only increased the building waves of pleasure running through his body. The willow striking his bottom too caused him to yep with joyful glee as each welt seemed more like a lovers mark.

Then from ground there rose up a small crystal goblet. At first the boy was confused, till he came again, this time without the normal build. His milky white juice landed in goblet. But it made only a small dent in the vast space void of anything beside air.

Once the little squirt landed in the cup. The assaulted upon his bottom increased fifteen folds as the vine once more started to go in and out of his bottom with ever increasing speed. The boy found himself being assaulted and pleasured at the same time, small clouds, pastel pink in color filled his mind as the willow tree took its time, coloring the boys bottom and adding welts to its once smooth surface.

The boy released again, and then again, and then again. The space between each one grew wider and wider as his strength started to be depleted and soreness took hold to him. The sun was starting to dip now belong the tree line and his bottom was now starting to glow red, cursory of the willow tree.

The glass was now half way full. 'Almost there.." He thought as he peered toward the glass. The streams of pleasure that once flooded is body where starting to cool now as a cool forest window kissed his hot cheeks and teased his bottom. By now, him and the vine his bottom had become almost as one, so when the root started to withdraw from his bottom. He was almost sad to see it go, but with the round harvest moon peeking over the tree line the vine did indeed withdraw, back into the ground it went. The willow tree stood its ground though.

Then it dawned upon the boy. He would be here till the cup was filled, this was nothing more than a mere break in the action. The garden was merely taking its evening rest. In fact he dare say, he would only be released when the garden was done with him for the vines still remained tightly wrapped around his ankles and his wrist. So finding the middle ground between lust and fear, the boy fell into a oddly pleasant sleep.