Title:           Breakfast 5 - Buttered Toast
Author:          BreakfastAnon
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/p3EZW5A0
First Edit:      Sunday 21st of December 2014 02:29:51 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Sunday 21st of December 2014 02:51:43 PM CDT

>This was it: the last straw.
>You hold a knife in your hand.
>No more insults; no more pain; you'll get what you deserve and so will she.
>You're in control now.
>And you decide to eat toast.
>The only solid food she eats comes from your closet, so you'll be eating breakfast alone today.
>That'll show her.
>You spread butter on your lightly toasted... toast, basking in the glory of such a simple food.
>It almost helps you forget about the angry moth pony glaring at you from the table.
>This isn't your brightest idea.
>You wonder how long it'll take for someone to find your body.
>After completely ruining your state of euphoria with thoughts of getting horribly slaughtered, you take a bite of the toast.
>It's really good.
>Like a mix of fluffy and crisp, while buttered lightly to add a bit of flavor.
>It's really good and little miss pissed-moth can't have any.
>"Anon, are you done throwing your little temper tantrum? You still haven't made anything for me."
>And you most certainly won't. Not today, at least.
>You turn to face her, ready to rub the sensation in her moth... face.
>Just looking into her eyes makes yours burn.
>You are most certainly scared, but you can't let her know that.
>You roll a d20 to act calm and collected.
>17.
>Once in a while, you can actually roll high numbers.
 
"I don't know what you're talking about; I'm just making myself some," you drag out your next word, "delicious... food."
>"Nothing you make can be delicious."
>Ouch. That... actually hurt.
>Not as much as hunger will hurt her! You eat the rest of your toast, staring intently at her as she slowly moves closer to you.
>... Wait, closer? As in, she can kill you much easier?
>All of the sudden, you're in a state of panic.
>BE A MAN.
>YOU MUST BE SWIFT AS A COURSING RIVER.
>She flutters up to you so your faces are only an inch apart.
>This'll be the day that you die.
>Your vision clouds over as tears fill your eyes.
>It didn't have to be this way.
>You're shoved to the ground but caught before your head hits.
>Then dropped.
>She's standing over you, face to face, while you're laying flat on the ground.
>Your heart is racing. You open your mouth to inhale deeper.
>Her glare alone will kill you.
>She then... puts her mouth on yours.
>What.
>You thought there would be death, not kissi- THERE IS A TONGUE INVADING YOUR MOUTH.
>Is it... IT'S GOING DOWN YOUR THROAT. THIS FEELS WEIRD.
>You can feel her tongue playing with your insides. It sounds like she's... drinking from your stomach.
>All you can do is lay there and wait for her to finish.
>After a minute or two, she reels out of you and stares deep into your fearful eyes.
>"You used too much butter."
>She then walks away as though nothing happened.
>You're now certain you shouldn't fear her killing you.
>You should fear her slowly torturing you while keeping you just alive enough for you to feel it.
>You cried in that spot on the floor for almost an hour.