In case anybody needed to know what makes me blush:
Daddy feeds me grapefruit. He eats it a few times a week, “It’s good for you baby.” I hate grapefruit. Unless it’s covered in white sugar. But that’s not how Daddy eats it.
He sits down beside me and peels it effortlessly with his big strong hands. He eats the pieces quickly and without fuss. But for me he does it differently. He takes the most plump section and carefully peels away the skin and the rind and the white stringy parts that make me say ick, leaving just the juicy raw insides. Exposed. It’s always that ruby colour, like the inside of my cunt. It’s always dripping and falling apart. He hands it to me, my fingers accept it gingerly.
I make a sour face when I chew, I shiver a little, but I don’t complain. I know it’s for my own good. He doesn’t pay much attention to my reaction anyway.
“Good girl,” he says when he sees I’ve swallowed.
