Might not get a better chance.

As you pull away from her crotch, you reach up to guide her hand away from your head and grab it roughly, trying to remove the green ring from her finger.

"No!" she screamed, and suddenly you felt an electric jolt run through your body. You shake as you are thrown backwards, sliding across the carpet, gasping in pain. Still, your cock stands firm, just like your sister had desired. "You tried to steal my ring," she said, standing up. "This is going to require some punishment."

You try to roll to your feet to run, but as she says, "Stop," you comply, unable to move. She slowly walked around you, looking at you. You could see the thoughts in her eyes. How was she going to punish you?

After several moments she smiled. You did not like the tone of her smile. "You are going to walk into the dining room, climb up on the kitchen table and kneel."

Somehow you felt like she could just make you kneel on the kitchen table, but your walk of shame was part of your punishment. She followed behind you as you walked, taunting you, telling you how you have been a bad boy.

As you climb up onto the table, she says, "Now I think I have come up with a suitable punishment, don't worry, you will feel everything, well, sort of."

Suddenly you found yourself unable to move, kneeling on the table, your hands on your thighs. For a second, you thought maybe she had turned you back into a plush and would rip the stuffing out of you. But the reality was far worse. Directly ahead of you was a decretive mirror, which reflected you kneeling on the table as a life-sized and realistic cake. If you had a heart at this moment, it would be racing. Your sister had a look in her eyes as she smiled, "I might have worked up an appetite," she said, raising one hand and having a spoon appear there.

She stepped closer, and your panic grew. She couldn't actually be thinking what you thought she was. Slowly she pushed the spoon through the icing skin on your thigh, you could feel it, but it wasn't like being cut. It certainly wasn't pleasant, but it was not like a blade passing through your skin. She was standing to the side of the mirror so you could see, and a raspberry jam welled from the incision of the spoon. As she pushed into your cake, you mentally moaned. You had no mouth, no lungs to actually make a sound, but you felt it—the strange combination of discomfort, pain even, and the pleasure at being at your sister's mercy.

As she tore a spoonful of your cakey self, she stepped back and leaned into your face. You could feel her hot breath on the cake which sat on the spoon and realised that you could still feel it all. Your panic grew even more. Would you feel her teeth, feel her swallow, feel the acids of her stomach.

To your shame, you felt a shiver move through your cake self. "I told you, you would fulfil all my desires, and right now, I desire cake." Laura opened her mouth wide and placed the spoon on her tongue. As she closed her mouth, you felt the pressure of her soft pallet, and she withdrew it through her lush lips. As she chewed on your cake self, you shuddered more. It did not go unnoticed by Laura.

She smiled as she slowly chewed on your flesh and then swallowed. The sensation of sliding down her throat was akin to being deepthroated, and you shook all over again as your cake cock spurted white chocolate out its tip to spatter against Laura's stomach. She giggled, "Oh, it's warm. I'm not sure what's funnier, that you are a self-saucing cake or that you came as I ate you?"

She ran the spoon up her belly, collecting some of your sweet sauce and then went back to your hip. You felt her dig back into your flesh and again mentally moaned as she brought the spoon to her mouth a second time she licked at the sauce. "Vanilla cream," she said shortly after. Then she took your cake into her mouth, and you shuddered again. This time the load you spurted forth was heavy, and she shook her head. "I will need to find a better way of punishing you, seeing as you enjoy this. I'm not sure what yet," she took another mouthful, and you shuddered yet again, her curse for you to always be aroused, making it that you could always cum. "I'll figure out something." As she took the third spoonful of your cake self in her mouth, your cock spurted yet more vanilla cream.

Laura just smiled and put the spoon on the table, "I'm done with sweets, though in a few hours I will need something for lunch," she said.

To your shame, you came again, and she giggled, turning away from you, leaving you there with your raspberry jam leaking from your thigh.