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Time and time again, in the few brief moments of clarity the fever allowed him, Conrad cursed his foolishness. Nothing on Skull Island was ever as it seemed to be at first glance, so why should the fruit have been any different? Returning to the island as a Monarch agent had made him far too bold and reckless, believing that he knew everything there was to know.
Conrad had been wrong, very wrong, and his mistake had almost cost him his life.
His hands had cupped the apple appreciatively, enjoying its rosy red color, smooth, cool texture and its heavenly sweet scent before he took a bite. It tasted divine, even more crisp and juicy than apples did in the world back home, so Conrad had assumed it to be not only harmless, but wholesome and nourishing. He had paused to enjoy the fruit’s rich flavor, relishing the delicate taste of its white flesh and sticky juices before he noticed a slight tingling and then a burning sensation at the back of his throat.
Staggering and coughing, flailing as his body began to grown leaden, Conrad crumpled to the ground in a haze of dizziness and pain. Sweat drenched his face and his limbs convulsed, and he had barely enough time for the words I’m dying to form within his mind before darkness swallowed the frantic thought and he knew no more.
Stinging flashes of lightning penetrated the blackness of Conrad’s swoon, and his brain seemed to be throbbing inside his skull. A distant booming sound filled his ears, and his whole body felt an eerie change of altitude, as if he had been swept up by a whirlwind and placed atop a mountain. He shivered as the heat gave way to the biting chill of ice and snow.
Conrad did not know if he was dead or alive, in heaven or in hell.
One moment, he was choking on something so acrid and bitter that it made him curl into a ball and dry-retch, and the next he was lying still and calm with droplets of pure, clear water moistening his chapped lips and a face with huge dark eyes, full of tenderness and concern, gazing down at him.
Conrad knew those eyes, and sighed in gladness at the sight of them. They were the eyes of Kong, the island’s king and god.
The scorching heat and the searing cold dissipated into nothingness under the gaze of the mighty ape, and Conrad found himself relaxing into deepest sleep, and into dreams.
He dreamed of the island transforming into a paradise, the jungles morphing into orchards full of apple-trees where the fruit was healthful and delicious. A profusion of wildflowers bloomed in vivid shades of purple, pink and gold in the long grass between each sturdy tree. A crystal stream flowed, dividing one side of the orchard from the other. Conrad followed its direction along a woodland pathway which led him beyond the trees to a vast, golden plain that seemed ablaze with yellow wheat and stretched for many miles towards the distant snow-capped mountains.
In the midst of the rustling stalks of grain sat the towering form of Kong.
One of Kong’s massive hands lifted Conrad into the air, cupping him like a precious jewel in that enormous palm. The fingers of the other hand began to pull the rags and scraps of what was left of Conrad’s clothing off, leaving Conrad naked and exposed to the great ape’s eyes, which were now filled with a lust and desire far more intense and feral than that of any human.
An exploring fingertip delicately ran along the length of Conrad’s body, and his cock was swelling and aching as he thrust his hips up towards it. Conrad groaned aloud as the ape’s finger rubbed up and down his chest and then slid lower, caressing with a feather-light touch the damp head of his cock.
He writhed against the smooth and almost silken skin of the ape’s broad palm, and the slow, exquisitely teasing caresses of Kong’s fingertip drove him nearly mad with need. Sweat soaked his skin as the heat of the sun and his own passion made his head spin. Dizzy with pleasure, his cries were both worshipful and obscene as he looked into the eyes of his deity.
“I’m yours!” he screamed, and the cry of love and fealty echoed from the faraway mountain peaks. Kong’s finger pressed a little harder onto Conrad’s sensitive flesh, mercifully giving his wildly willing devotee the release he longed for.
Conrad was almost sobbing as he came, repeating the name of Kong like a prayer as he gave himself to the great ape, body and soul.
He awoke to find himself on a mountainside, in a nest of twisted branches and soft green leaves. Large, velvety pieces of fresh foliage covered him like a warm coverlet, and he could smell the bitterness he had tasted earlier. He recognized the scent now; it came from an herb that the Iwi used for healing from snakebite and other poisons.
And the mighty Kong, magnificent and protective, sat at his side.
Kong squeezed what looked like another broad leaf above Conrad’s head, dripping cooling moisture onto his face and neck. Conrad caught several of the droplets on his eager tongue, and the taste was sweeter than honey.
“Thank you,” Conrad murmured, and Kong rumbled, the smallest finger of his left hand lowering to smooth down Conrad’s hair.
Conrad tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but Kong’s hand stopped his movement with a swift, firm grasp. The huge ape was frowning now, and uttering a huffing sound as his stern eyes fixed on Conrad with a look of unmistakable reproach.
“I know, I know – I’m an idiot,” Conrad whispered, and gazed up at Kong with a pleading look. “Please forgive me? I promise I won’t eat anything you don’t think is safe.”
He turned back to place a soft kiss on the ape’s gigantic forefinger, and Kong made a very different sound as the look in his eyes began to soften. It was an almost purring hum, and Conrad’s heart nearly melted at the expression of sheer love on Kong’s face.
“I trust you to keep me from temptation,” Conrad murmured, and nuzzled closer to Kong’s shielding hand.