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“You sure about this, dude?”

Ahead, across the length of a parking lot, there was a store in the middle of a strip mall. A statue of a six-armed snake sat beside the door, with each of the arms forming a different pattern—the upper pair gestured to a wreath of feathers, the middle pair cupped their palms beneath a pair of breasts, and the lower pair held themselves out straight, as if beckoning the viewer into their grasp. Fake gemstones crawled along the scales.

Above, the name of the store was spelled in Hindi-style letters.

The Sacred Womb.

Michael leaned his head against the car window, trying not to twist his back.

In the back seat, Summer was scrolling the store’s website on her phone. Daisy gripped Michael’s headrest with a paw, leaning for a better view. At the wheel, Austin blew a raspberry.

“Fucking mystic bullshit,” the shaggy-haired hyena said.

Michael shrugged.

Besides the statue of the snake, it was hard to see much else in the store. The window panes were dusty, and most of the glass was taken up by hanging carpets, all of which had fractal designs woven into the fabric. Somewhere beyond, in the dimly lit building, he could see racks draped with hanging beads, shelves lined with books, a symbol of a hissing snake. . . .

No one else was in the parking lot. Half the stores in the strip mall had been boarded up, and the only surviving neighbors were a mattress store and a pawn shop, respectively. On the street, traffic moved in a sluggish crawl.

“Oh!” Daisy said, right in Michael’s ear. “Do you think she can read my paw? Tell me the future?”

Austin dragged a hand across her snout.

“I mean, I’m a Capricorn, right? And I know I have that ambitious streak to me, but, lately, I’ve been kind of thinking that I’m more of a Gemini.” She flexed a bicep. “Hard-working, but also, you know, curious! Playful! I mean, it’s possible to mix your signs, right? Would she know?”

“Daisy,” Summer said. “That’s astrology. This is Buddhism.”

“So?”

“Oh my God,” Austin said. “Mike, go to a fucking doctor.”

Michael tapped the armrest of the passenger seat, still staring into the window of The Sacred Womb. He couldn’t see any movement inside. “How’re the reviews?”

Summer scrolled through her phone with a claw. “Uh—wow. Really good, actually.”

Austin shook her head.

“Yeah, so, let’s see. . . .” Summer squinted at her phone, trying to block the afternoon sun. “It’s all like—'oh, miracle cure! My back pain is gone! I feel so enlightened!’” She scrolled a little more. “There’s a lot of yoga, some tantric diagrams, uh, a couple venom pamphlets, total coiling, chakra pressure points. . . .”

Daisy shook Michael’s seat. “This is going to be fun!”

A couple days ago, Major Manly had been filming The Three Hotties Problem 4: Leviathan Cakes. Manly’s character was supposed to be used as a distraction for the five-breasted dimensional invaders—in actuality, this meant that Michael needed to be tag-teamed by three panthers, all of whom were wearing water balloons as extra tits. None of them would be gentle.

Bruises. Claw marks. Swallowed pubic hairs. Some shitty dialogue, whenever his mouth was free.

All standard procedure, for the most part.

But, right in the middle of shooting, Michael’s back had started hurting again. He had tweaked it while filming the original Three Hotties Problem, and it had never quite healed right, leaving him vulnerable to random bouts of pain whenever he got twisted the wrong way. After some shouting, filming had to be stopped.

Tammy had pulled him aside with the producer. Both of them said that principal photography could not be delayed, and the studio heads wanted Major Manly at the top of his game. When Michael looked hesitant, the raccoon had recommended one of the studio’s personal physicians—a large cobra named Sarika, who, apparently, acted as both a chiropractor and spiritual guru.

Tammy, still incredibly high on cocaine, had started rambling about chakra, alternative medicine, and the feminine energy locked at the base of his spine, promising him that the cobra had cured her stage 2 kidney disease with a couple rounds of tantric coiling. Michael had agreed without really listening, just to end the conversation.

As a result, he had been given a single day off to see Sarika. And, now, he was parked outside a strip mall, staring at the statue of a large, six-armed snake. The golden eyes seemed to watch him from afar.

This had to work.

Christ, man, this better work.

“Look,” Austin said. “I think this is stupid.”

Michael nodded.

“I think you should see an actual doctor.”

“Probably.”

The hyena flicked some hair from her eye. “Cool. Let’s go to one. Right now.”

“Okay,” Michael said. “Does YEEN’D.com offer health insurance?”

Austin grimaced. “I mean—no. But, you know, we’re making good money. Monthly subs are up, we’re getting good traffic from hosting sites. Once all the startup costs are gone, it’s like—” She gestured out the windshield. “It’s all there, man. Like, slowly.”

“I don’t need slowly,” Michael replied. “I need it now. An entire production can’t film ‘cause of me. That’s sixty people, out of work. I got big league producers breathing down my neck, and Tammy offered to comp the visit. Totally free.”

“Oh, yeah, so the drugged out little skunk told you to get fucked by a snake. Did I get that right?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Daisy said. “Imagine what our chakras are going to say?”

Austin growled at her.

“Mike,” Summer said, looking up from her phone. “I mean, it looks legit. Good reviews across the board. All her Hindu stiff really works, apparently.”

He looked at Austin, shrugging. “I can’t afford a doctor. This is the best I got.”

She blew out a breath, tapping the steering wheel with her claws. “Whatever. Look. I’m running late. Gotta meet with some technical crew. If you want to get squeezed like toothpaste, go ahead.”

“Love you, babe,” Michael said.

“Get the fuck out of my car.”

Summer and Daisy opened their doors, hopping out. Michael popped his open, began to twist, and felt a sharp pain shooting up his side. He flinched, squirming against the seat. It felt like a live wire knotting against his spine.

The pain was getting bad. He really needed this to work.

After a few moments of breathing, and some careful leg movement, Michael managed to grip the roof of the car and begin to swing himself out.

Austin clamped a paw on his shoulder.

“Mike. Look at me.”

He looked at her.

“Be careful,” she said.

“I know how to—”

“Hey. You’re human. Alright?”

For a moment, he remembered the incident on the set of Three Hotties 4, when his back had started to flare. All three of the panthers had thought his shouting was part of the scene. They had played along, holding his wrists, thrusting harder, laughing in an alien voice. He had been completely unable to fight them off.

In general, most of his anthro co-stars could pin him down, whenever they wanted. The difference in strength was always stark. And, now, whenever he saw an anthro out on the street, he always had to wonder what would happen, if they suddenly decided to strike.

“Look,” Austin said. “If you don’t feel safe, or things are creepy, you call me. Alright? Whatever it is, I’ll drop what I’m doing and come back. I promise.” She leaned over the wheel. “That goes for both of you, as well.”

“We can take care of him,” Summer said, leaning over the passenger door.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Daisy added, assuming a double-bicep flex. Her tank top stretched against her lats. “Too much negative energy will disrupt the spheres.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Austin said.

Daisy shrugged, smiling.

Michael glanced between the two hyenas at his side and the one glaring at him from the opposite seat of her car. He felt very small.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “I promise to call.”

“That goes for anytime, dude,” Austin said. “I’m serious.”

“I know. Thanks.”

Austin watched him for a moment. Eventually, she rolled her neck and started the car. The old beater struggled to life. “Good. Be careful. Hope you get better.”

“Thanks, dude.”

Michael pulled himself out of the car, with Summer and Daisy doing the bulk of the lifting, and slammed the door shut. Once closed, Austin quickly raced away from the strip mall, joining the throng of traffic out in the street. She seemed to be driving a little more aggressively than normal.

For a moment, the three of them stood in the parking lot, feeling the afternoon sun beat down on their shoulders. The air smelled like smog and roasting asphalt.

“Fuck me,” Michael said.

He began to walk toward The Sacred Womb. Pain shot up his side. He stopped, straightened himself, tried again, felt more pain, and ended up in a half-lurching stroll, leaning to the side and favoring a leg, trying not to think about how he looked to anyone else. Going to a chiropractor recommended by his porn director was already humiliating enough—he didn’t need to walk like a cripple, as well.

Just get through this, he told himself, grimacing.

“Mike,” Summer said. “You’re bleeding.”

He paused, looking down. A semi-circle of blood was leaking from his side. Before he could say anything, Summer leaned down and yanked his shirt up. There were gasps.

“Mike!” Daisy yelled.

His torso was covered in scratches and bite marks, courtesy of the feline cast of Three Hotties 4, leaving his skin as splintered and broken as the parking lot. Currently, one of the teeth rings on his side had reopened, leaving a jaw-shaped welling of blood.

“Did some pussy bitch cut you up?” Summer asked, pulling his shirt so high that it smothered his face.

Michael tried to escape her grasp, blind and fumbling.

Suddenly, he felt two cold noses pressing against his side. They sniffed his skin. Someone growled. Summer took a firm grip on his shoulder, and Daisy began to lick the wound, dragging her tongue in long, heavy strokes. A mild pain turned into a deepening throb. When the two of them began to journey across his torso, sniffing and licking at every cut they could find, Michael gasped into the fabric of his shirt, feeling like a slab of meat.

They were still standing in the parking lot. Everyone saw. In the distance, someone honked their horn.

After a minute of squirms and growls, the two hyenas straightened themselves again, licking the blood from their chops. Michael hurriedly lowered his shirt. Saliva clung to the fabric.

“Who did this to you?” Summer asked. “I’ll fuck a bitch up.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you guys.”

“Hey,” Daisy said. “Better now, right?”

He did feel a little better. The blood had stopped leaking, and their saliva crept into the wounds, doing something good for infections. Probably. Maybe it was the thought that counted.

“Gonna have to rub you later,” Summer said, ears still twitching. She glared at a bite mark peeking from his shirt collar. “Clawing one of our pack. God, I swear.”

“Summer,” Michael said. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

“Mike, you’re all of our boyfriends.”

“Fuck no, I’m not.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, bitch.”

She whacked him with a paw. He flipped her off.

“Awwwww,” Daisy said, smiling. “C’mere.” The buff hyena leaned down, swept Michael off his feet, and raised him into a bridal carry. She continued to smile at him as he struggled within her grasp. “I just want to bottle your cuteness and drink it right up!”

“I hate both of you,” Michael said, adjusting his back.

They continued toward The Sacred Womb with Michael now swaddled in Daisy’s arms, entering the shaded awning that ran the length of the strip mall. With the sun no longer straining his eyes, he was able to get a better look at the rugs and posters hanging in the windows.

All of them were fractal patterned, featuring a psychedelic mixture of colors. On one poster, there was a human god wearing a snake around his shoulders. Next to it, there was a diagram of a human body, with blue balls of energy slung throughout the spine. Finally, there were informational signs of various yoga poses, all of them featuring a human and a much larger snake.

He saw limbs being bound. Rows upon rows of a snake’s legless body, wrapping around a torso, squeezing out the vital essence. There were words like “divine feminine” and “formless aspect of the goddess”. In one picture, the snake bit the human with her fangs, and informational text described exactly how the venom would affect his nervous system, leaving his mind open to spiritual liberation.

Jesus Christ.

“Really dark in there,” Summer said, pressing her snout into the window.

Michael glanced at the door. “Sign says open.”

Nothing moved inside the store. Daisy slung Michael to one shoulder and prodded the statue of the six-armed snake. It didn’t move. Up close, he noticed that an eye was opening on the belly, right between the lower pair of arms, which were still beckoning him to join.

“Daze,” Michael said. “Put me down.”

She smiled and licked his cheek.

“God, fine—Summer! Open the door!”

Summer swung the glass door open. Slowly, the three of them went inside.

The first thing Michael noticed was the temperature—it was actually hotter inside the store than the midsummer day outside, so much so that crossing the doorway felt like entering a dark, sweltering jungle. The air was humid. Potted plants guided their path.

Once his eyes adjusted to the gloom, however, The Sacred Womb began to look like any other mystical gift shop. There were rows of tiny statues, shelves full of books, a see-through glass countertop filled with beaded necklaces and small gemstones, all of which came with signs detailing their Hindu history and spiritual significance. A faint smell of incense clung to the air.

Right now, the only horrifying thing about the place was the price tags.

“Uh, hello?” Michael called, leaning an elbow on Daisy’s shoulder. “Sarika?”

No reply. The store wasn’t all that big—if a giant snake lady was hiding somewhere, she was either in the back warehouse, or perfectly camouflaged amongst the plants and statues, waiting for him to venture into the dark.

“Oooooo!” Daisy said, jogging to the side. “Cool!”

She picked up a book from one of the shelves. On the cover, there was a painting of a human bending their face into the crotch of an anthro, who was performing a handstand with her legs spread into an upward V. The title of the book: Snake Charmer.

“Oh, Mike, we gotta try some of these!”

She began to flip through the pages. In rapid succession, Michael saw an upside down 69, standing doggy style, multiple amazon positions, a small human splayed on a body harness, both their hands and ankles tied together. All of the positions came with detailed instructions for stretching and meditation.

“I am not that flexible,” Michael said.

Daisy giggled. “Oh, come on! I’ll train you! You know I need a gym buddy!”

She began to read a page dedicated to the reverse pile driver. While she was distracted, he managed to wriggle out of her grasp, dropping a foot or so back to the floor. The landing sent another shock of pain up his back. Gritting his teeth, Michael limped over to the opposite side of the store, where Summer was leaning over the glass countertop, staring at the necklaces and jewelry.

“Anything cool?” he asked.

“Well,” Summer said, “apparently, these anal beads have killed someone.”

“. . . how?”

“Uh—so—a monk was fasting, and meditating, and doing some weird shit with tantric sex, and his viper mentor lost one of her fangs up his ass—no explanation there—and I guess they used these beads to try and reach in, right, but, well, they got it, and, when they ripped it out, it tore its way through his colon, and—bam!—total prolapse.”

Michael did not respond.

“I know, right?” Summer gave an awkward laugh, nudging him with an elbow. “Like they were starting a lawnmower.”

“For the love of—” Michael cupped his hands to his mouth, shouting. “Sarika! I’m here! Sarika!”

Suddenly, an electronic crackle rang through the store. An intercom. When the feedback ended, a woman began to speak, filling the room with a deep, smooth voice.

“Mr. Man,” Sarika said. “I am basking in my chambers. Approach the rear.”

The intercom switched off, leaving a muffled silence. Dust and incense drifted through the gloom.

“Oh, she’s weird,” Summer said. “Calling it now.”

Michael shook his head and limped his way toward the back of the store, beginning to knead a fist into his back. Summer opened the door for him. Daisy jogged up with Snake Charmer cradled under an arm.

Compared to the front, the back warehouse of The Sacred Womb had much less decoration. The floor and walls were made of a dull concrete, barely seen beneath a couple rugs and piles of shipping containers. There were only three lights in the entire room—a lamp sitting on a cheap office desk, the red glow of an emergency exit, and an orange blare emanating from the far back of the open space. Somehow, the air grew even hotter.

Michael stepped into the room, blinking. His eyes wandered to the orange light.

On the other side of the warehouse, there was an artificial terrarium, so large that it stretched from wall to wall—craggy rocks, hills of sand, small canopies of tropical ferns. For a moment, it almost seemed like he had stepped from a cheap gift shop into the jungles of India. The only thing that gave it away was a wire net stretching above the enclosure, supporting several UV lights and heating bulbs.

In the middle of the terrarium, haloed by the glowing lights, a cobra laid on a towering pillar of rock, black and massive, her long body coiled around the crags. A black tongue slithered from her maw.

“Approach,” she said.

Michael glanced back at Summer and Daisy. Both of them nodded, growing serious.

He began to approach.

As he walked across the warehouse, Sarika fixed him with a stare, tracking his position amongst the crates and shelves. He remembered reading that cobras were ambush predators. They had heat-sensing organs in their skull, and they were experts at tracking prey through vibrations in the ground. Out here, in the dark, he would not be able to hide.

Easy, dude.

Keep your shit together.

She was a massive snake. If he had to guess, her body was at least twenty feet long, and it was not lacking in muscle—each of the coils was as thick as his torso, easily winding their way around the artificial rock she was basking on. He could only imagine the weight.

Of course, he didn’t need to imagine her body. She was completely naked. When she raised her torso beneath the heat lamps, a pair of scaled breasts cast shadows upon the rock. An olive belly clashed with a flaring, black hood.

He tried to see where her vagina was.

No.

Shit.

Okay.

He stopped in front of the basking rock, squinting his eyes through the UV light. Sarika’s hood was outlined against the halos and bulbs. She watched, silent, flicking a black tongue.

Summer and Daisy took position behind him. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the gentle whine of high-powered lights.

“Mr. Man,” Sarika said, her voice as smooth as her scales. “I am told that you lack feminine energy.”

“Receiving feminine energy has kind of been my problem, actually.”

A growling hiss emanated from the cobra. It might’ve been a laugh. “I speak not of the sexual fluid. Your kundalini is inflamed. Aching to be freed. Through asana, meditation, even pranayama, you may unlock the true aspect of Parvati.”

Michael nodded along, as if any of those words had the slightest meaning to him.

“That is not to say,” Sarika said, “that sexual fluid is not important. In fact, it is a powerful substance. The root of the universe. There are many tantric practices available to us, Mr. Man.”

“Uh, yeah, so—Major Manly’s just the stage name. You can call me Mike.”

“I will not.”

“Uh . . . okay?”

“Mr. Man,” Sarika said. “Come to me. I must feel your pain.”

He glanced at the steep, craggy rock in front of him, which was currently wrapped in rows of her black-scaled body. “You want me to, uh. . . .”

“Yes. Climb me.”

“. . . do I have to?”

“I must feel the vibrations of my prey, like the quaking revelation of an orgasm. Your every weakness will be a fluid to my loins.”

“Right,” Michael said. “Yeah. Um—so—I know that some snakes have their, uh, pussies on their lower parts. Tail. You know.” He eyed the lower portions of her body. “I won’t be touching anything, right?”

“Why must you ask?”

“Well, you’re naked.”

“Yes,” Sarika said, matter of fact. “And?”

“Nothing. I mean—uh—good for you.”

“Do you wish to see my flower?”

“No! Um, no, that’s alright. Thanks.”

She continued to watch him from above. Sections of her body coiled and squeezed.

“Right,” Michael said. “Nevermind. Silly question.”

Like a blade of grass, Sarika began to lean backward. A pair of olive green breasts shined in the light. Slowly, she lowered a hand across her belly and parted a section of leathery skin with her fingers, right between her human-like torso and long, snake body. A pair of pink, glistening folds emerged between the scales.

“Ah,” Michael said, deadpan. “Cool. Thanks. I mean—lovely pussy. Yeah.”

Sarika flicked her tongue, doing the same growling hiss from deep in her throat. It was almost definitely a laugh.

“Mike,” Summer said. “We’re staying right here. Just—say something. You know?”

He didn’t answer. The heat of the UV lights pressed against his face, mixing with the sweat.

The younger hyena hesitated, craning her head to meet Sarika’s eye. “Okay, well—can we watch? Just to be safe?”

“You may join, if you wish.”

“Oh!” Daisy shouted. “Awesome!” She raced in front of Michael, raising her paw for a high five. “Tag team with Major Manly! Let’s go!”

Michael stared at her raised hand. Eventually, she grabbed his wrist and smashed his hand into hers.

“Yeah!”

Daisy began to climb up the steep, craggy face of the basking rock, her muscles outlined beneath her tawny fur. Michael rolled his eyes and walked to the edge of the rock, gingerly attempting to find a handhold. When he started to pull himself up, his back spasmed in pain.

Just get through this.

He tried to pull again. The pain worsened. He grit his teeth, forcing his foot into a rocky hold, fighting against the growing knot in his muscles. Every movement seemed to tear at the claw marks on his chest.

I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate—

Sarika’s tail pressed into his back. Immediately, he felt a dense wall of muscle beneath her scales, helping to support his weight. She pushed him further up the rock. When he managed to grab a section of her body, she began to squeeze and flex, letting a sea of black scales flow beneath his palm.

Above, the cobra continued to watch him, sharp and alert.

He climbed. She coiled her tail around his waist, just on the edge of squeezing, while the rest of her body began to unravel from its perch. Black scales moved in rivers. Eventually, he stopped touching the rock at all—there was only the lengths of her body left to grab, warm to the touch, constantly writhing and pulsing beneath his grip. She pulled him into her presence like the gentle flow of the sea.

“So,” Daisy said, already at the top, “I was wondering—do you have those little pink salt pillars, the ones that filter negative ions from the air?”

Sarika didn’t respond. Her eyes were still locked on Michael, following his progress with a smooth gaze.

Daisy clapped her paws together. “Also, you know, I really want to know my future! Is true love in my horoscope? Will I finally hit a thousand pound deadlift?”

“Please be quiet,” Sarika said.

“Oh, okay!”

Michael was pulled to the top of the rock—somewhere along the way, he had stopped climbing at all, leaving him straddled on the thick length of her body as it dragged him higher and higher. Slowly, the tail on his waist began to slither in a circle, growing from a single loop into a stacking wall of tendrils. The pressure grew tight.

“I must drink your pain,” Sarika said.

Her coils began to slide along his back, squeezing and probing. When she found the knot of muscle next to his spine, Michael grimaced, flinching beneath her folds.

“Do not resist. The struggling . . . excites me.”

He tried to relax as she pressed deeper into his injury, flexing the rings of muscles in coordinated waves. Daisy reached out and took Michael’s hand in her own. There was a reassuring squeeze.

“By the way,” Sarika said, looming above him, “Mr. Man, I feel I should say—I am a big fan of your work. It is, in fact, why I agreed to work for free.”

“Oh, really?” Daisy asked. “Thank you so much! Are you a YEEN’D subscriber?”

“A very happy one, yes. I quite enjoy the series with the timid schoolgirl.”

“That’s me!” Summer called from the warehouse floor, raising a paw overhead. “I’m the schoolgirl!”

Sarika swayed her torso out to the side. “It is excellent content. I can tell that you are a budding virgin, finally discovering the core of her feminine power.”

Summer flattened her ears.

The cobra turned her attention to Daisy. “You are excellent, as well. A body made for worship.”

Daisy flexed both her biceps, grinning. Michael felt the tip of Sarika’s tail work its way between his legs, reaching for a thigh.

“I must say,” the cobra said, “when you squeeze his skull between your legs, I cannot help but pleasure myself.”

“Oh, thanks! That’s one of my favorites, too. The sound he makes is adorable.”

“The blood rushing to his skin,” Sarika said. “The gasps for air. The weakening struggle. The whiteness of his eyes, brimming with fear.”

“Uh-huh! Great stuff!”

By now, Sarika’s tail had coiled around his leg, wrapping so tight that he began to feel his own heartbeat, struggling through the artery. The cobra watched him with a growing intensity.

“Uh,” Michael said, trying to push the coils working toward his chest. “You got a diagnosis?”

A black tongue slithered from her muzzle, so long that it flicked all the way down to her breasts.

“Yes,” she said, after a pause. “It is as I thought. Your kundalini is inflamed. It is located here, at the base of the spine, where your pain is radiating. To fix your woes, we must unlock your inner feminine power.”

“Right. Yeah.” Michael tried to adjust his posture. The coils on his lower back were as tight as a corset. “Let’s just say—hypothetically—I don’t know what a kundalini is.”

“It is an aspect of the muladhara,” Sarika said. “Otherwise known as the root chakra. Consider it the origin of the body’s consciousness, which is locked away by the misery of samsara, borne of circles and rebirth. As such, it is often represented by a snake coiling around a lingam.”

“A snake. I see.”

“Yes. I am uniquely suited to your needs.”

“Oh, I didn’t doubt it.”

She tightened her grip on his back. For a moment, the pain began to sharpen, rising into an angry spear—then, slowly, Sarika began to flex her muscles again, creating a rhythmic motion, flowing up and down with the coils of her body. The pain eased into a manageable throb.

“There are many ways to awaken the kundalini,” the black cobra said. “Certain yogas emphasize the spine. Mantra—repeated chants—can focus the mind. I may instruct you in the art of meditation. However. . . .”

She stared down at him for a long moment. Daisy glanced between the human and the snake.

“However,” Sarika continued, “I believe that a physical treatment is in order. I can provide you with analgesic medicine, and perform several massages to reduce the inflammation.”

“Okay,” Michael said, surprised. “Yeah. That sounds good, actually.”

“I will also have sex with you.”

“. . . that did seem like it was coming, yeah.”

“I’m sure you have heard of tantric sex. Mating, as it were. The sexual fluids contain many powers. With your permission, I will ingest your semen.”

Michael took a deep breath, pressing his diaphragm against her coils. “Jesus Christ, lady. I just want the pain to go away so I can shoot a fucking porno. Can you help or not?”

“Mike,” Daisy whispered. “Don’t be mean.”

Sarika released a growling hiss. It travelled throughout the length of her body, vibrating through his bones. “Mr. Man. In my time as a guru, I have converted many skeptics. If you’ll allow me, I think you will be made a believer, as well.”

“Sure,” Michael said. “I guess. I’ll take whatever you got.”

She lowered herself to him, like a tree beginning to fall. “Are you a willing participant? I will do nothing without your consent.”

“Yeah. Fine. Have sex with me or whatever. I don’t really care anymore.”

“I would appreciate more sincerity.”

Michael glared up at the giant snake constricting herself around him.

“Very well,” Sarika said. “Considering your temperament, I believe the pain is clouding your thoughts. I will start with the medicine first.”

“Fantastic. Ready when you are.”

Sarika flicked her tongue. With a subtle pop, she opened her jaws, revealing a wide, glistening maw. Venom dripped from her fangs.

“Let us begin the treatment.”