The Serpent's Vessel
Written by TwistedSnakes
You're not sure how you've got to this point. Forced to sign away your freedom to work as an escort for hotel guests. Read: sex worker. Sex slave. Slut. You're not exactly "forced" if one was pedantic about it but between saddling a multi-million dollar debt and working a few years to pay it off, there isn't much of a choice.
That's what happens when you lose at the Silver Serpent.
You're assigned to your first client: a snake by the name of Sephos Arctos. Black-scaled, well-built, affluent. And most importantly, to your job, a strong dominant. That meant you had to be submissive in front of him. Or you could not because he apparently takes pleasure in wrestling that control away from his bottoms. His smug and confident aura seems to emanate even from his identification picture. You have no problem believing that he'd easily overpower anyone in the bedroom, whether or not they wanted to submit. You'll just have to play along with what he wants.
Your assigned attire is a set of skin-tight latex trunks that hug your body, leaving nothing to imagination. The shape of your bubble butt is visible under the black rubber and your crotch is accentuated by the tight elastic that pushes your privates upwards as if presenting your endowment to whoever is in front to accept. Needless to say, you feel completely vulnerable as you walk down the hotel corridor towards your destination, the air-conditioning cooling your bare skin as it emphasizing your nudity. Surprisingly, the sight of service staff like you is commonplace enough that you get no more than a few passing glances and the occasional approving nod from the guests that you walk by.
To your relief, you come to your client's room. Its entrance looked nothing like the regular doors to its left and right: a grand set of double doors made of cypress wood, inlaid with intricate swirls of silver. As if they had been waiting for you, they opened with a click, gently opening up to a well-furnished room.
You step into the room and admire it as the door closes behind you with another soft click. The interior decor of the room seemed more at home in a mansion than a hotel room. Its modern furnishings from sleek couches around the centre to a widescreen television built into the wall. A balcony in the far end of the room opened up to a city in the afternoon sky. A glorious kingdom before a ruler's throne.
However, you're not here to sightsee; you have a job to do.
"Mr Arctos?" you call cautiously. You wait for a few seconds but get no response. He's not here. Following the staff protocol, you enter the bedroom where high-ceilings sport a painted sky with a chandelier in the middle. You allow yourself a few more seconds to admire the room before you stand next to a wall with your back facing it. Standing. Not leaning against it. Hands folded in front of you, just at the level of your crotch.
And then you wait. Letting your eyes wander to the ceiling. As you stare, you realize that the domed ceiling is made out of curved display screens, digitally simulating and rendering the slow motion of clouds as an invisible wind blew them across. The sun and moon danced about each other in the centre of the dome in a circle, slowly drawing you in with their hypnotic choreography over the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. The scent of aromatic candles wafts over you, softly hinting of oak and jasmine.
Your body slowly relaxes. Your breathing slows and your shoulders fall. As if you're falling deeper and deeper into a trance, pulled along by an inaudible melody. Your thoughts drown in a sea of silence. And you wait.
Soon enough, the click of the door in the other room snaps you back into the present. Sephos is back. You can't help but shiver. His footsteps sound heavy against the carpeted floor. Unhurried and deliberate. He's coming.
He comes around the corner of the doorway and enters the room. His scales are jet-black, polished and shiny beneath the light of the chandelier. Deep blue, luminescent scales form bands down his back and arms. His long tail snakes behind him, leaving weaving trails in the plush carpet.
He's wearing a black suit with a blue tie that matches the colour of his scales. He heads to his dresser, facing a rectangular mirror built into the wall, slowly undoing the buttons on his jacket before slipping it off. The cutting of his white shirt follows the muscular curves of his torso.
He tugs the loop of the tie, letting it come undone. Slow. Purposeful. Intentional. Each step a meticulous movement as he puts the silky material on the dresser and unbuttons the collar. Had he not seen you? No, he knows. He knows exactly what he's doing.
You watch him remove his belt. Transfixed, as if every action were the wave of the snake charmer's pipe to your mesmerizing eyes. Your breathing matches up to the subtle rise and fall of his chest. An aura of power emanates from his movements. His stature.
And he turns to you. Your breath feels stuck in your throat. His steely eyes bore into you. You hold yourself steady. Ready to present yourself to him. His gaze points to the floor near the foot of his bed: an unmistakable command to which you immediately comply as you quickly stride to the foot of the bed, standing at attention with your arms behind your back.
He strides to the space between you and the bed. His face reveals no hint of emotion as he examines your form: defined muscles, firm but not too overbearing. Just the right amount to compliment his tall and athletic physique. Slave and master, you know where you stand in his presence.
He lifts a finger, lightly grazing the back of his knuckle against your bulge. You hold back a soft gasp as his firm touch trace the outline of your balls. Slowly but surely, your shaft begins to emerge from your sheath. He continues, giving your privates his unwavering attention until your throbbing staff is pressed against your abs, trapped under the tight, unyielding latex. His stroking continues on the underside of your cock, exploring its outline as he teased your needy cock.
He nods a subtle nod. Barely noticeable but enough to instruct. You quickly strip yourself of your latex trunks, folding them nicely into a rectangle on the floor against the wall. After that, you turn back to face Sephos with your eager rod standing in front of him. But you're not here for your fun; you're here for his.
He nods again, and this time your hands find your way to his shirt. You fumble on his buttons, undoing them one by one from the top down. Each button released reveals more of his scaly, muscular chest. His sculpted pectorals. His chiselled abs. You slip his shirt down his broad shoulders and sturdy arms.
Your warm breath washes over his black scales and your hands join in. His scales are smooth and cool beneath your skin. Bottles of massage oil sit beside the leg of the bed and you pick one up. "Essence of Spearmint and Lemongrass: Massage Oil" the label reads. You look up at him expectantly and he nods back. You unscrew the crystal bottle and a sweet and citrus scent infuses the air around you. Pouring some oil onto your hands, you slide them over his chest in smooth, circular motions, giving them a lustrous sheen under the soft glow of the chandelier. The rise and fall of his chest is a slow cadence to your movements.
Your hands descend to his abs, your fingers tracing the mountains and valleys of each hump. His pants the only obstacle between you and his sceptres. The button comes undone with a swift movement of your fingers and his zip slides effortlessly down. You pull down his pants, leaving him in his trunks. Beneath the stretched nylon you see his two dicks tenting the material. You eagerly slip it off his thighs and tail, letting it fall to the floor as you admire the entirety of his glistening form.
He sits down against the bed and you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. His two shafts leaking pre as he awaits your dedicated attention. Your lips gently close around the tip of his left cock, tasting his slightly-salted pre with your tongue.
Your left hand grips the base of the sceptre. And then you suck. Your head thrusts up and down over his long and girthy manhood, letting it fill your maw down to the back of your throat. You clench your fist, fighting against your gag reflex as you give up your pleasure for his. The back of your throat feels tight against his firm shaft, a satisfying bulge against your Adam's apple.
Your free hand begins stroking his other dick, traversing its ridges as the oils lubricate your movements up and down. Faster and faster you go, your head and hands all moving in synchrony. His soft moans tell you what you want to hear: an appreciation of your endeavours. A job well done.
You feel a clawed foot press on your throbbing cock as Sephos forces it down so that its pinned against the carpet. You let out a muffled whimper as you try to focus on the task at hand. He squeezes your shaft between his toes, rubbing back and forth teasingly. Your manhood plaything for him beneath his feet.
Your pumps continue, slowly but surely working him closer and closer to the edge as you quicken your movements. The scent of his cock mixes in with that of the candles and oil, assaulting your nostrils with a myriad of smells. An intoxicating fragrance to spur your libido to greater heights. Your cock throbs against the sole of his heavy feet.
Then he puts his hands beneath your arms, effortlessly lifting you off his cock until your feet barely touches the ground. His movement is swift: his tail pushes him back onto the bed and he lies back against the soft, silky sheets. He lowers you down against his body and your chest touches his. You feel the massage oils press against your skin, infusing its aroma and Sephos' musk into yours. You rise and fall with each of his breaths as he stares into your eyes. A firm gaze that enforces your position but tampered with a delicate tenderness.
One of his dicks find its way to your tailhole, nudging against your tight rim. You want to close your eyes. To brace yourself. But you're transfixed by his gaze. Your focus is on nothing but him. And then he pushes into you. You let out a gasp, not one of pain but one of pleasure. His sceptre fills you with a gratifying sensation as you're spread apart.
He rocks his hips, letting your sphincter trace the ridges of his dick, squeezing tightly around every valley along his shaft. His arms grip your upper arms firmly, moving you in time with his thrusts. His moans come out rich and deep like music to your ears. Soon enough, you're joining him with gasps of your own.
One hand releases you as he props himself up so that gravity pulls you lower onto his mast. He lets you slide down until you're engulfing the entirety of his member. His tapered tip presses against your sphincter. A burst of pain and pleasure. You feel your cock twitch in response, sandwiched between Sephos' abs and yours.
He raises himself so that he's almost standing by his feet and tail. His hands hold you up and you rise and fall in time with his thrusts. Your sensitive ass pounded by his fervent plunges, assisted by the pull of gravity.
Sephos then pauses, sliding his dick out of you and giving you time to catch your breath. Your gaping tailhole feels empty. Needy. Keen for his flesh inside you. He answers your desire as you feel the two tips of his cock push into your tailhole, spearing your opening wide to accommodate his shafts.
And then he thrusts. His entire lengths shifting within you, pushing against your internal muscles. The friction against your insides a warm heat within you. You instinctively squeeze your rear, your flesh pressing his two firm staves together. He slowly pulls out of you and your tailhole classes around the tips of his dicks, milking the copious precum from them. His clear fluids smear over your pucker, a natural lubricant as he thrusts into you again.
In and out. In and out. Your buttcheeks cushioning your descent as you fall on his hips before he lifts you up again. Your knees bend back as you tense your muscles. Your tight rear pleasurable hole for Sephos to plough.
But the snake isn't stopping at two. His tail curls over, prodding its tip against your tailhole alongside his two cocks. And then he plunges it into you.
You let out a gasp of pain. Your tightness pushed to the limits as his tail widens your pucker as he penetrates deeper. You want to tell him to slow down. To stop. But you know you're in no position to protest. You're a slave. His slave. A cocksleeve for his manhood. His tail snakes itself within you, once again finding your prostate.
An involuntary moan of ecstasy. He notices. And he presses against it again as he thrusts in and out of you. You don't resist, letting your sounds of bliss accompany his deep moans. Your pain gives way to pleasure as he penetrates you repeatedly with his three appendages. A slave's discomfort set aside to please his master, from which he finds his own gratification.
His hand clutches against your throat and he pulls your chin up so that you're facing the ceiling. His head peers over you with a smug grin. Your mouth, open with your outbursts of enjoyment, is suddenly assaulted by his long tongue as it enters your mouth. It wraps around your tongue, holding it in a vice-like grip as he gives it a soft tug.
You let out another gasp of pain. His tail and cocks still having his way with you. Then his tongue slips deeper into your maw and down your throat. He explores your throat, brushing against your gullet and slowly pushing it open. Your moans are muffled as he fills you out.
Then he begins fucking your throat with his tongue, thrusting it in and out in time with his hips. You close your lips around his oral appendage, giving it a tight squeeze. Your teeth lightly scrapes along his muscular tongue as it pushes deep into you before he draws it out again. His dexterity keeps you on edge as he continues to fuck you with his tongue, circling the inside of your throat with strong, swift movements.
He continues to rock his hips as he delves deeply into your tailhole. His moans, stifled by his occupied tongue, are eager and forceful. Your own breaths come out in short and shallow bursts. You feel light-headed as Sephos' tongue deprives you of your much-needed oxygen. You close your eyes, letting the waves of euphoria wash over you with every plunge. Feeling him fill up your entirety from both ends with each push.
He's getting closer to the edge, and so are you. Each rise and fall of your body onto his pushing the both of you towards the inevitable climax. The heat of your bodies. The friction of your skin rubbing against his scales, smoothed by the scented oils between both your hides.
And then it happens. He reaches the peak of his passion, his arms gripping your shoulders as he forces you down, filling you with the entirety of his two lengths, accompanied by the girth of his tail. It presses against your prostate, shooting his warm seed against it. The heat against your sensitive spot hits your arousal, spilling your load over the sheets.
He pulls his tongue out of your mouth, letting you catch your breath. You continue looking up at him with your glazed eyes and he returns it with a firm, affectionate look. His warm breath washes over you, accompanied by gasps of your own.
His arms wrap around your waist. A firm support as he slips his tail out of you, using it to lower himself backwards onto the bed so that you're both lying down on your sides on the soft sheets. His chest against your back. His two shafts still within you. His arms are still holding you in his sheltering embrace.
He curls up, pushing you over so you're slightly bent, almost as if in a fetal position as his neck presses against the back of yours. His cocks still hilted within you, pinning you in place. His tail winds around your feet, holding them together as pulls you in. You can see the tip of his chin as he wraps around you. His tongue flicks out again, finding its way back into your maw. Twisting around your tongue. Playing with the back of your throat.
You feel him slowly drift off as his tongue lazily toys with your mouth. You feel his pulse in his sceptres slow down as his breath calms down. His weight slowly leaning against yours as he relaxes.
And soon enough, you join him in slumber.
~ End ~