I gazed with pride upon my creation. It was a magnificent creature, a snake unlike any snake any man had ever seen. Black as coal, and coiled up in the corner of the brightly-lit white room, I knew that it reached a good fifty feet when fully uncoiled. Its thick midsection was the size of a rolled up carpet, and its yellow eyes seemed to be permanently open and alert.
My name is Ali Sagmani, and it had taken me almost ten years of breeding, genetic manipulation, and training to produce this, the snake of my dreams. It was part black mamba, with the mamba's speed and deadly venom, and part anaconda, with that particular snake's massive crushing power. The snake had but one function in life, to devour the naked young women who were deposited in his lair on a bimonthly basis.
I had been looking forward to this particular feeding for days, but it was useless to rush things. The snake needed a full two months to digest each meal and to make him eager for the next. It was not only the snake that would be dining, for I took a certain perverse pleasure in indulging myself with a gourmet meal as the snake and its victim made the acquaintance of one another. My personal chef unfailingly came up with the most exquisite delights, which I consumed as I watched. The covered silver platter was already before me, the most intoxicating scents wafting forth to tease my nose.
Before lifting the cover, I flipped open the folder which contained a dossier of a young lady by the name of Shannon Moore. It was only a month ago that Shannon had been a bright and popular high school senior in a small town outside Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The captain of her school soccer team, Shannon had already committed to Penn State, and was doubtless anticipating a fun-filled freshman year. She would have had it, had not one my agents spotted her picture and exploits in a newspaper story. I wouldn't like you to think me excessively snobbish or particular, but I had extremely specific ideas about just what kind of girls my snake should be fed. First and foremost, they must be American. Like most of my countrymen, I have always hated Americans, with their smug superiority and their conviction that they can do whatever they please in any corner of the world. Nowhere was this better exemplified than in the daughters of successful American men.
They had been brought up in comfort, if not luxury, and had scarcely known an unhappy day in their lives. Things like fear, hunger, and pain, were not a part of their worlds. I made it my business to acquaint these girls with all the negative emotions they had avoided all of their young lives. In a way, I saw himself as educating these girls. They were learning something, a special kind of knowledge, even if they would never be able to pass that knowledge along.
Besides being American, it was necessary that the girls be young, fit, and attractive. Physically, I was not particularly concerned with breast size, but it was important that they have muscular thighs and powerful, jutting behinds. I had absolutely no time for the waif-like, bony girls so often seen on television and commercials. Shannon, as a skilled soccer player, had precisely the kind of body I liked. She had disappeared from a mall while shopping with some friends, and a full-scale search had been launched for her even as her drugged and naked body was being loaded aboard a private jet. It was now a month later, and her friends and family no doubt assumed that she had met some evil fate at the hands of a serial killer and that her body had been buried in a desolate forest somewhere.
However, Shannon was still very much alive in the heart of my country, a Middle Eastern principality that isn't particularly concerned about the rights of any Americans. Currently, she was living in a small cage above the room that housed the snake. This had been her home for the past month. Kept completely naked, she was only brought out for exercise, and to attend to some of my more unusual demands. A questioning session under the influence of sodium pentothal had revealed that Shannon was still a virgin, although she had, as she put it, "kissed Bobby's weiner." She had been steadily fed a second drug which acted as a kind of depressant and aphrodisiac. It quelled her more hysterical outbursts and had the pleasing effect of inducing the young girl to masturbate several times a day. Shannon was sure that her masturbatory efforts had gone unnoticed, but of course, they hadn't. What she perceived as solid walls were all one way glass, and as she merrily frigged herself to multiple orgasms, I brought in any number of friends and relatives to watch. Watching the young American squirming and gasping, her hand deep inside her own cunt, confirmed many ideas about the relative depravity of American girls. After two weeks of this, I brought my guests directly to Shannon's cage, and the young American girl was forced to dip her fingers between her legs and humiliate herself for their pleasure.
For as long as I can remember, I have taken an almost clinical interest in the masturbation techniques of young women, most of whom lay on their backs and work their breasts with one hand, their clitorises with the other. Shannon had the unusual technique of getting on her knees and reaching between her legs for her private parts. With her face and breasts pressed against the floor, she worked herself hard, then reached her other hand behind to finger her anus. She always used her middle finger, and was able to reach full insertion, pistoning her finger in and out of her ass as her other fingers furiously worked at her cunt. Upon coming when she imagined she was alone and unseen, Shannon had the unusual habit of smelling both her hands, a ritual that caused no end of amusement to myself and my friends.
I flicked a switch on the console next to me and a video feed of Shannon came up on a monitor. Not to my surprise, Shannon was busy, both hands working, her unfocused eyes gazing at a camera she could not see. She was building towards an orgasm she would never have. I depressed a button on the console and Shannon disappeared from view. The trapdoor beneath her cage had opened, and two seconds later, a chute opened in the snake's lair and Shannon tumbled in.
Naked, disoriented, fingers still glistening with her own juices, it took her a moment to orient herself to her new surroundings. Immediately, she saw the snake, for that was all there was to see. Predictably, she screamed and began running around wildly, looking for an exit that was not there. The snake, well-trained, remained perfectly still, save for the forked tongue that slithered rhythmically from its mouth. Comfortably ensconced in the next room and shielded from her view by one-way glass, I let her initial hysteria run its course, then spoke into a microphone connected to the room.
"Good evening, Shannon," I began. "Try not to be alarmed. I'm conducting a little experiment here. The more you scream and jump about, the more upset the snake will become."
Almost immediately, Shannon quieted down and stood still, her breasts still bobbing up and down as she breathed heavily.
"This is an experiment to determine the extent to which you can overcome your fear. If you can control your fear, you will live. If you can't, you will not. Do you understand?"
Shannon's head bobbed quickly up and down as she looked at the four walls, wondering where my voice was coming from.
"You will need to stay in this room for one hour. At the end of one hour you will be released. The snake may attack you, or he may not. If he does, the worse thing you can do is try to run. He is extremely quick, and you wouldn't last long. Your only chance is to present yourself to him in as submissive a posture as possible. That way, he will see that you are not a threat. I recommend that you get down on your elbows and knees and present your rear end to him. If he still advances, you will need to begin oinking and squealing like a pig. The only creature this snake does not eat in its natural habitat is the wild boar, presumably because its tusks can cause the snake internal damage. I suggest you take your position now."
In a heartbeat, Shannon was down on her elbows and knees, back arched, presenting her upraised ass to the serpent's eyes. It was, to my eyes, a beautiful tableau, the kind of tableau that not too many men are privileged to witness. I savored it, even as I enjoyed my Beaujolais Nouveau, which went extremely well with the marinated lamb and grilled vegetables I was currently enjoying. As I finished off the lamb, it was clear that the next phase of my little entertainment was ready to begin. Shannon was beginning to sweat freely as the room was heated to nearly ninety degree Fahrenheit to make the snake more comfortable. Despite the sweat now dripping off her body, Shannon had remained motionless for fifteen minutes, and I didn't doubt that she was beginning to get a little comfortable with her position. Yes, she was naked and helpless in a room with a large snake, but she had followed my instructions, and the instructions had worked. She hadn't moved, and neither had the snake. As frightened as she still might be, in her conscious mind there was the idea developing that she was in a situation that she could control by her actions. This was far from the case, as she would soon learn.
I pressed a small red button next to my chair, which was connected to a light in the room where Shannon and the snake sat in frozen silence. The light began to flash, and the snake had been conditioned to move in to strike once it saw that light flashing. It slithered towards Shannon, and Shannon saw it immediately. But, just as the snake's training had kicked in, so did Shannon. She began to emit oinking and squealing noises that were so convincing I felt sure she must have spent some time on a farm. It was music to my ears, to hear this well-bred young woman oinking and squealing like a barnyard animal. I pressed the red button again and as the light stopped blinking the snake stopped, its back arched, just a few feet from Shannon.
I felt myself growing erect, and let my hand drift down to my cock to begin slowly massaging it. It was such an erotic picture, this massive black snake poised behind the naked and defenseless girl. It was arousing from a purely aesthetic perspective, but I'll admit that the power of the situation appealed to me as well. I controlled the snake, the girl, and any interaction between them. They were both my puppets, my playthings, my toys. And they were both doing their job, which was to amuse me.
At length, it became time to move things along, and my finger caressed the red button before pressing firmly down. The light in the room flashed and the snake reared its head back. The beautiful thing about Shannon's position was that the snake was presented with two firm, white globes that filled his field of vision. He chose the left cheek and buried his fangs into it, injecting a good dose of venom as he struck. Shannon was so intent on her oinking and squealing that it took her a full two seconds before she realized what had happened. Instantly, she leapt to her feet screaming and began to run around the room. With the light still flashing, the snake moved in to pursue and corner her.
There was no escape, and Shannon did the only thing she could do. She dropped to her hands and knees, presented her ass to the snake, and began to oink and squeal for all she was worth. This, for me, was always a magic moment, a moment to be cherished and savored. For Shannon, everything she had ever done, everything she had ever known, was wrapped up in one pure goal: to present herself in as submissive as posture as possible to this snake, and to squeal for her very life. No man would have ever seen her like this. She was, in this moment of her life, perfection. Both elbows were on the floor, as were her palms. Her knees were spread and her back was as arched as humanly possible. Her vaginal lips and anus were all clearly visible. These dark, secret places that she had kept hidden from any number of boys were now fully exposed to the unblinking gaze of the snake. Her head was arched back as her squeals rang through the room, and her smooth body now dripped with sweat. Not only was this pleasing to the eye, Shannon was, in effect, lubricating her own body so that she would slip more easily down the snake's throat.
I watched all this, contemplating all the changes that Shannon had gone through in such a short time. When she entered the room she was a young woman of a certain refinement and class. When first presenting herself in such a humiliating fashion before the snake, she had no doubt retained a few vestiges of her humanity as she began to hope that she would outlive this ordeal. But now, all traces of humanity had been erased. I doubted that she had any coherent thought processes at work. Her fear and pain, coupled with the venom now coursing through her body would have overwhelmed all of her brain's higher functions. One of the functions of the venom was that because it had been injected in her plump hindquarters, it would begin to paralyze her lower body first. This meant her legs, but also control of her bodily functions. It was, in a sense, easy to follow the progress of the venom. Entirely against her will, Shannon began to spray urine on the floor as her bladder emptied itself. As the warm liquid lapped at her spread knees, she began to lose control of her rectum as well. Two long stools forced themselves out of her and curled down to the floor. Shannon, in a very real sense, was no longer human. This was important, because the snake, well-trained though he might be, was a still a snake, with the snake's natural aversion to humans.
But what he saw in front of him was no longer human. This sweating, squealing, shitting and pissing smooth-skinned creature in front of him was nothing more than human pork. His tongue flicked out, tasting her, anticipating her. And have her he would. I pressed the button again, and at the light's flashing the snake struck again. With an eye to symmetry, he planted his fangs into her other smooth, unmarked cheek. Shannon let loose another squeal and staggered to her feet. By now, the venom was doing its work in earnest, and Shannon's large motor functions were beginning to deteriorate. She stumbled around the room, still squealing out of pure reflex. The snake watched her, patient, and soon enough Shannon fell to her knees, her arms hanging limply by her sides.
The snake moved in and with surprising speed and grace, and enveloped her in his coal-black coils. He pinned her arms to her side, and both her feet and head were still visible as the snake began to maneuver her towards his mouth. This was an area of the process of which I was especially proud. The natural instinct of the snake is to consume all its prey headfirst. I had enjoyed the snake devouring any number of pretty young things in this fashion, and there is something to be said for the sight of shapely calves and still wriggling toes disappearing down a snake's gullet.
But for whatever reason, I had conceived of the idea that I would enjoy watching a girl be consumed feet first, and I had undertaken months of conditioning to get the snake to indulge my little whimsy. If the light in the room flashed once per second, that meant the girl was to be consumed head first. If the light flashed every half second, that meant she was to go down feet first. Shannon would be going down feet first, because as difficult as she might have found it to believe, her ordeal was far from over. I pressed the appropriate button, and the snake followed his cue.
Shannon was lifted with incredible ease and the snake rippled its coils until her feet were pointing at the now gaping maw. As her feet entered the snake's throat, Shannon spasmed as she felt herself going in. It was touching to see her struggling against all the odds, even if her cause was hopeless. Her legs were inserted with one smooth motion, the coils uncurling as the meat was fed into the mouth. The snake, like any other kind of constrictor, had small, sharp teeth that angled sharply backwards, preventing wriggling prey from escaping once it was in.
The snake paused, adjusting his hold on the girl, and perhaps getting up the energy it would take to engulf her large and muscular ass. Unhinging his jaws and gaping them wide, she was forced in, the teeth coming down to bite her ass and pull her inside. By now, the snake's throat muscles had also entered into the picture, as the snake's entire body became a feeding machine, both pushing and pulling Shannon down into the snake's innards. Her smooth belly disappeared next, and the outline of Shannon's body was becoming visible inside the snake itself. With an effort, Shannon's breasts and shoulder disappeared into the snake's mouth, so that all that remained outside of the snake was her head.
I pressed my little red button again, and the snake obediently followed my wishes. Instead of following his instinct and pulling Shannon fully inside, he paused in his exertions to allow me the privilege of seeing Shannon's pretty face, distorted by terror and pain, protruding obscenely from the snake's mouth. Of course, that image immediately suggested a course of action which I did not hesitate to follow. My state of arousal had reached such a pitch that it simply had to be taken care of, and Shannon was in no position to resist anything I might suggest to her. I left my comfortable chair and made my way to a door that led inside the room.
As I entered, I was assailed by an interesting variety of smells. Shannon's sweat was mingling with the odor of her shit and piss which still soiled the floor. Her eyes opened wider at the sight of me, perhaps wondering, hope against hope, if I might be there to save her. Of course, I was not. I was there to relieve myself in her pretty mouth. I brought out my erect cock and brought the snake's head down to a comfortable level. Shannon was too pumped full of venom to speak or resist, so I simply opened her mouth with my fingers and inserted myself between her lips. Grasping her head on both sides, I began to pump myself into her, humming a little melody to myself to avoid coming too quickly.
I wanted to enjoy her mouth one last time, feeling the tip of my cock dipping into the back of her throat, and then penetrating her mouth with long, full strokes. This was a pure kind of pleasure, stuffing her full of my own snake, even as she was stuffed inside quite another kind of snake. Paralyzed though she was, I was still able to enjoy the soft gagging sounds that emerged from her throat, and as I looked down I was delighted to observe tears welling up in both eyes until they ran in fine rivulets down her cheeks. In my experience, weeping women provide infinitely the best fellatio. Of course, witnessing this helped to accelerate my orgasm somewhat, but it was surely time.
I felt it building, and moved my cock back until I was simply driving the tip of it back and forth between her open lips. As the cum began to surge forward I pulled out and began to make minute adjustments to her face, turning her this way and that so that every fresh spurt of semen splashed on a different part of her face. I then released my hold on her and stood back to appraise my handiwork and it was, if I may say so, an impressive sight. Her jaw still hung open and her face was absolutely wet with tears, saliva, sweat, and a clear liquid running from both nostrils. My artfully distributed gobs of spunk capped off this most pleasing picture. With her body deep inside the snake and her face wet with so many different fluids, she had never been more beautiful.
Doubtless, Shannon thought that now it was all over, and she had been any of my earlier young girls, it would have been. It was at this juncture that I commonly toasted my young victim, and watched her disappear forever between the snake's jaws. However, I had conceived of a wild and improbable scheme that I could scarcely wait to try and put into effect. I had brought a small bag into the room with me, and from this I pulled a length of clear, hard plastic tubing and a latex replica of my own erect penis. The tubing was firmly connected to the hollowed out dildo and I took this device and inserted it into Shannon's still open mouth. I then closed her mouth around the tube and looked in her eyes.
"Shannon," I began, "I know you can still hear me. If you keep your lips wrapped around this dildo, the snake will pull you into his belly, but you will still be able to breathe thanks to this plastic tubing. Do you understand?" Shannon blinked once and I knew I had a willing participant in my plan. "That cock is your lifeline to the outside world, my girl. Hold on to it for all you are worth."
And with that I retreated to the wall and flicked the light switch that gave the snake the go-ahead to consume Shannon completely. The mouth opened slightly and than Shannon began to disappear into the back of the snake jaws. I saw her still open eyes pleading, the dildo firmly fixed between her lips. And then she was gone, down the snake's gullet. The plastic tubing fed in after her as I watched the shape of her body move deeper inside the snake. Finally, she came to rest in the snake's midriff and I retired to my study for a well deserved cigar and cognac.
Some two hours later, cognac and cigar still in hand, I made my way back to the snake room, having calculated that the venom in Shannon's system would have worn off by now. I picked up a chair and entered the room, noting with an approving glance that my staff had cleaned up the mess Shannon had left on the floor. The snake was asleep, and the lump in his middle was clearly that of a girl with well-developed hindquarters. I discerned no movement, and it was possible that she had simply been crushed to death by the muscles of the snake's stomach. There was only one way to be sure, and I bent down to speak into the plastic tubing.
"Shannon, my dear, are you still with me?" I asked.
In response to my question there came a garbled mumbling from deep inside the snake. Obviously, the poor girl couldn't speak with the dildo between her lips, but at least I knew she was alive.
"Shannon," I spoke into the tube. "I'm thinking of slicing the snake open to release you, but it would help my decision if I has some gesture of good faith on your part. What I'd like you to do is to reach your hands between your legs and play with yourself until you come. Will you do that for me?"
Once again, her reply was garbled, but I detected some movement in the middle of the snake. Her hands had been at her sides, but now they were moving under her, her fingers feeling their way towards her cunt. I saw the bump of her behind lurch a fraction upward, and I was sure she'd made contact with her nether regions. I settled back in the chair, puffed on the cigar and took a sip of cognac as I brought the plastic tubing to my ear.
It was as pleasurable a scene as I have ever witnessed. I could detect the minute humping of her ass inside the snake even as her pants and gurgles reached my ear. I could imagine her deep inside the snake's belly, in pitch blackness, enveloped in the warmth and tightness, her slick fingers kneading her swollen cunt lips even as her lips were still wrapped around the replica of my own cock. It was, again, a wondrous sensation of power and I opened my pants to pleasure myself even as Shannon was doing the same in the belly of the beast.
As her gurgles grew louder and the rippling of the snake's skin became more pronounced, I increased my own tempo, and I was delighted when we were able to orgasm at virtually the same time. Of course, I brought the plastic tubing to the tip of my cock and spurted my jism directly into it, then watched it slide down the tubing into both Shannon's and the snake's belly. All that was left was to relieve myself in another fashion, and I watched in pleasure as my steady stream of urine ran into the tube, knowing that seconds later it would pass between Shannon's lips. Faintly, I heard a kind of spluttering sound from inside the snake, but there was little Shannon could do. The dildo had to stay between her lips, and she had to accept anything that came through it.
As it happened, I had rather a full schedule the following day, and it wasn't until the evening that I was able to check in with Shannon and observe her progress. On the one hand, it was quite possible she was still alive, but on the other hand, the snake's digestive juices would have been working on her naked body for almost an entire day. I liked the idea of her being digested while still alive and conscious, and I hoped she would respond when I spoke into the tube.
"Shannon, are you still there?" I asked.
There was only the faintest sound from inside the snake. She was still alive, but who knew what kind of condition she was in? I determined that the time had come to be merciful and I spoke into the tube again.
"I want to thank you for a wonderful adventure, my dear. I think it's time I took pity on you."
I was rather hoping she would be aware enough to interpret this along the lines of her being saved. But again, quite the opposite was true. I felt a faint need to urinate, and it seemed a shame to waste the perfectly good system I had set up. I pulled out my cock, and after a few moments of effort, produced a satisfying stream down the tube. If nothing else, Shannon surely had the distinction of being the only human being in the history of the world to be tube fed a last meal of hot piss while being digested in the belly of a gigantic snake. I waited until the last drop of piss went down the tube, and then, with an abrupt gesture, I pulled the tube out of the snake. There was a brief, violent movement in the snake's belly, and then all was still. Pretty young Shannon Moore, popular student and athlete, was now nothing more than a lump of meat to be digested. In a few weeks I would fertilize my roses with her remains, even as I planned on new ways to enliven this little entertainment with the naked young bodies of the girls who would follow her down the snake's ever-hungry throat.
The End
Comments? E-mail: dashwoodwilkes@excite.com
By Dashwood Wilkes