A Quiet Trip

Story by redscale101 on SoFurry

, , , , ,

This was my second story for tf I ever wrote. Any feedback would be helpful. Also, I put this under adult, but I am not sure if it belongs in extreme (the only adult material is language, sex and transformation). If it belongs elsewhere, let me know. Enjoy!


A Quiet Trip Redscale Careful, there be adult content here

"It's a glorified swamp," Mary retorted. "You're suggesting we set up camp in a sweltering, bug infested swamp." "Don't forget the crocodiles," James grinned. "You'd make a tasty morsel, I'd wager. In fact, I happen to have firsthand-" Mary playfully smacked him upside the head. "Your experience notwithstanding, you're taking your girlfriend of three years for a secluded weekend getaway to a swamp. Complete with heat, bugs, alligators-" "Don't forget snakes!" James chimed in helpfully. That stopped Mary. Snakes. Everyone else was always mortified by them. No limbs, the teeth, coiling around you and squeezing the breath from your lungs, venom, and those scales, to name a few of their more noticeable qualities. To be sure, they deserved that fear, but... well; Lucius had never inspired it in her. When Mary had been five, her father had captured a juvenile male Burmese python stalking the family dog in their backyard. Florida real estate can be worth every penny, but these snakes had been a growing problem; careless owners with more money than sense would import them, raise them until they stopped being cute, and then toss them into the wild at the first sign of actual adult growth. The one in their backyard had been lucky enough to survive for a time, but had (almost) bitten off more than it could have chewed, and Rudy, the family's Great Dane, had been on the verge of raising hell against it. Of course, Mary's father, sensible man that he was, decided that sure, a snake would be a great pet for a five year old girl, an infant child, and an understandably outraged forty-something (but twenty something to anyone with brains and the desire to keep them) woman. Mary's mom had been on the verge of allowing the python to have its way with her husband, but she came around after the first few months. The snake hunted rodents around the house, never disturbed the infant boy (who, when first meeting the python, introduced himself in the most sensible way by flicking out his tongue in response) or his elder sister. In fact, Mary had been closer to the python than to Rudy, even going as far as to name it Lucius for no other reason than the "sssssssss" that could always be stressed. While he was small enough to do so, Lucius would gently coil around Mary's left arm as she went about her summer days. Lucius's growth outpaced Mary's, and eventually he took to draping himself across her shoulders. Mary's father was never concerned, though, because as he put it, "Mom's concerned enough for the both of us, and I'm grateful that her power to wage war on that snake is not linked to any state arsenals." He always kept a watchful eye on the pair, and never allowed Mary to venture beyond the house with Lucius (or be out of sight with him in it). After two years, Mary was the primary caretaker of Lucius, and by her eleventh birthday, he was comfortably living in her bedroom. She even held conversations with him, grateful for the silence at times. Her father placated her mother by noting that no boy in their right mind would ever try anything in the bedroom, and her mother eventually stopped flinching whenever Mary wearing Lucius like the latest accessory. He had been the most loyal, tame, and easy pet. On several occasions, he would sleep gently coiled around her, a ward in the night against the more unpleasant dreams (Mary had suffered nightmares, and Lucius had a calming effect on her). Children alternated between taunting her as the snake girl and reverently pronouncing her the snake queen, and she enjoyed the attention. Mary had found a true animal companion. And then, just before her thirteenth birthday, there had come a hurricane, big enough to scare Floridians into Texas, or preferably Canada. Despite protests from Mary, Lucius was left at the house in the rush to escape from the storm's path. No kennel would take him (and none were equipped to do so), no friends would permit a fully grown python into their homes, and at the end of loading up the family van, there was no room left. Either Lucius went, or Mary did, and there was no choice there. Needless to say, when the family did return, Lucius was not to be found. Neither was the kitchen, but while Mary's mom celebrated her liberation (and Mary's father his from her cooking) and busied themselves with rebuilding, Mary wept quietly. Eventually, life went on, but for a time, she half expected to wake up gently wrapped in the snake's total embrace, and always found herself bereft of the experience. So no; she wasn't afraid of snakes. She respected them, but she could never deny the childhood bond she had shared. James had noticed her quiet at the mention of snakes, and tried to backtrack, "Er, well, there might not be snakes. Or bugs. Or crocodiles. Come to think of it, there may not even be-" "It's ok, James," Mary cut in. "Just memories is all. I'm looking forward to the time off," she said, leaning in for a quick peck on James's cheek before settling back into the passenger's seat. "I've been around the Everglades all my life, but never gone camping in them. Should be fun," she added, trying to brighten the mood. James agreeably nodded. "Well, I hope so. No exams, no professors, no sneaking off to my apartment at all hours of the night; just you, me, and some time." And, as they had agreed before the trip, that was all they would need.

While James played wild-he-man and attempted to assemble the tent, Mary wandered about the site. As close as it was to the swamp, it wasn't actually swamp-like at all. James had picked a small, slightly raised hill just outside the tree-line. A brook ran down to the wetlands, flowing to the south, but this part was crystal clear. Some short grass coated the hill, and was worn down in places from tracks. It was well off the beaten road, about a fifteen minute walk down an old trail that no one cared to follow anymore. It was quiet, peaceful, and provided Mary with the sort of environment she craved after three long, busy years in college. As she glanced up at the hill, she saw that James had almost impaled himself on a tent spike again. Deciding that this might cut the vacation short, Mary rolled her eyes and went up the hill to prevent James's untimely demise. Eyes were upon her. For as she had stood, gazing about the land, a breeze had kicked up, catching her from behind and carrying her scent down the brook and towards the trees beyond the other bank. It was carried beyond nest where baby-birds screamed for attention, beyond a foraging raccoon casting wary glances about, beyond the trees, and onto the flitting tongue of a python, basking on a rock in the afternoon sun. He slept, consciousness darting between reptilian dreams and glances for prey, but that scent! Not a female in her time, no, something rooted in memory... memory... a mammal, perhaps, warm and kind and small and his. Yes, but not his to eat, no, never, not his for that. Then what? What could stir the mind of a beast beyond its simple longings? And then he knew; his girl, that little girl, from long ago. How he had clung to her, embraced her, lived with her, and those strange vibrations all about her (for words, to a snake, mean little more than that) that resonated within him. Yes, his girl, the juvenile with whom he had grown. He had been curious as to her fate, for a time. She left, and the storms came, and he had been wet, then dry. But she did not return, and he could not find her, for the water had hidden her scent from him. And his life called attention to more pressing issues; he hunted, mated, basked, molted, and did all these things again. But there was a memory, and it called to him now. Slowly, so slowly, he slithered down off that warm stone, through the trees, quieting the chicks and their cries, being watched by the raccoon whose fastidious eyes earned him another day of life, down to the brook beyond the trees. And there, on the hill beyond, ascending, was she. The breeze died, and the scent lingered in the air before fading. She was there, and he felt a sort of joy, if it may be called that. A bond as between a loving pet and a kind master, such is not easily broken, and not even time holds sway. His girl had returned. Older, perhaps, and the smell spoke of maturity, but it was her scent nonetheless. He imagined how she might regard his new scent, for time had brought him age as well, and more than his share of maturity. But, where instinct had held sway in his life, the snake called Lucius (for that had been a common vibration, yes, Luciusssssss, she had hissed, and only in his presence, and he claimed it for his own) felt that bond revived, and instinct, while present, was being compromised by familial love. And so, there were eyes upon her, and James as well. While he might wish to reunite with the mammal, she had acquired a male... and males are ever so protective of their mates, as he had learned often enough. Better to wait, he knew. His bond with her was his alone.

Darkness began staking its claim on Mary and James's little hill, shadows lengthening as the sun gracefully dipped below the horizon. Miraculously, James and Mary had emerged unscathed from their war against the tent, and had managed to cram all the necessary provisions into it. A small fire close to the brook brought some warmth and added ambiance, and James had no eyes but for Mary. He drank her in; her subdued red hair that, in different lights, would flirt with a rusted brown or a strawberry blond that always darted down to her shoulders. He had memorized her face, pristine save for an old scar from a wart removed on her check ("Your human element," James had joked, "for how else would we know you were human at all and not some angel beyond us?" And Mary had loved him for it); he knew her deep blue eyes as well as anything, and he had spent hours lost in them. Her lips called to him, and he was always eager to answer. But James spent only so much time there; his eyes were drawn down, down to that slim frame that bespoke health, but never tended to either plumpness or insecurity. And inevitably, he was gazing (not ever lingering, but a healthy, invigorating glance) at her breasts; they were not the envy of the world, but their subtle curve, that shape that just pressed against her clothes, that felt so perfect under his hands... And of course, by then, she had noticed. Always she would notice before he could properly appreciate the art to its extent. A smile teased at her lips, and she playfully smacked him upside the head. "Window shopping?" But he didn't reply, just moved in slowly, slowly, bringing his hand to rest on her back, drawing her in as they sat by the fire, leaning for the kiss. Their pulses raced at first contact, and even though they had done this and so much more so many times, each kiss mattered as much as that first one three years ago. Before long, one kiss turned into another, and again, until it wasn't clear where one started and the other finished. The small fire, which had died to harmless embers, provided enough light for the pair to safely manage the hill back to the tent. They ducked inside, hands locked together, eager smiles and hungry eyes, and sealed the tent behind them. "I forgot to mention," James whispered, "that there's only the one sleeping bag." Mary stroked his head gently. "Shame," she replied. At that, James quickly tussled out of his shirt, straining his crew cut brown hair as it passed over his head. Mary followed suit, the two teasing each other with little promises and whispered desires as each article of clothing passed to the floor of the tent. Before long, they had naught but their birthrights left to them, and each lovingly gazed at the other. Mary's breasts perked and she was ready for James, a little wet in anticipation. James, for his part, was fully aroused, and pounced on Mary, gently bringing her to the floor of the tent. He sent his tongue and hands questing about her body, titillating her in all the right places, bringing about muted moans of pleasure. She lay back, straining against the pleasure as he caressed nerve after nerve, gently stroking James when she remembered he was even there. Before long, he began to prime her already eager mound for his own, using his tongue as a preamble for what was to come. She gasped, always caught off guard by how good he had gotten at this, and smiled lasciviously, moaning a bit louder now. Before long, James rose and found protection somewhere in the bag by the tent's rear. "You're on top this time," he said teasingly. Mary was all too happy to oblige. She rose to a crouch, and pushed James onto his back, granting him an ideal view of her femininity as she mounted his throbbing cock, gently shifting up and down, up and down to draw forth moans. She brought him all the way inside of her, and he thrust hard, bringing a gasp of surprise that quickly morphed into a moan of pleasure. She lowered her body down to meet his and he continued to thrust, drawing out, and pushing in, again and again and again. Their breathing sped up, and so too did their motions, not rushing, but enjoying each moment. And then, amidst all the pleasure, Mary crested, riding a wave of bliss as pure and golden as any sunrise. James followed soon after, panting lustfully as he spent himself. The two came to rest in that position, atop each other, sweaty and content, and in no way needing the sleeping bag James had thought to bring. They simply smiled at each other, and James stroked Mary lovingly down her side. Before long, their dreams caught up with them, and they slept.

Mary awoke first, coming to as the rising sun cast its first light upon the brook below. Some caught the tent, gently rousing her from her sleep. She untangled herself from the still sleeping James, and quietly unzipped the tent to exit. She was fully nude, still, but the area was isolated enough that discovery was unlikely. She went down to the brook, enjoying the soft grass beneath her feet, the warmth of the early sun that had yet to remember its punishing heat. The brook wasn't too deep, but it was perfectly clear, allowing her the perfect chance to bathe. Of course, the privacy was just an illusion, for eyes were upon her. She had vanished into the structure, but Lucius had scented her once more. The scent was spliced now with pleasure and the tang of a male, but it was still hers. And now, she stood, not fifteen feet before him, running water across her body. He slithered forward slowly, careful not to disturb her as she continued her ministrations in the water. She hadn't noticed him yet, and such was his pride as a hunter, but he did not wish to surprise her. Fear was not something she had ever smelt of before, and he did not wish to be its cause. Still, as he first entered the water, a vibration softly rang out, a gentle plooping as he entered. This caught her attention, and she turned her gaze downward, until her eyes met his. Mary froze. There, before her, was a Burmese python. In the brook. Staring right at her. Yet, she didn't feel fear. Strangely, she felt nothing at all. Instead, she backed out of the water slowly, and the python followed. Another step, and he slithered forward again. How strange, she thought. They usually don't like humans. Her scent remained mercifully free of fear. The memory came forth to Lucius once more, and he saw himself across her shoulders, as he had once been. This would make her know him. Slowly, he slid forward, first coming up around her ankles, then winding up her legs as she tried to step back. This threw her off balance, causing her to fall to her back. Lucius now had better access, and a different memory came forth, one where they were warm together beneath a cover, he wrapped about her, and this too would stir her memory. So he slithered under her legs. And then something strange happened. Mary felt a tingling at the base of her spine. Did the fall do that? She thought groggily. She didn't remember any pain. Instead, the tingling intensified into outward pressure, and a tail began to spring forth, extending vertebrae by vertebrae. Wherever Lucius had touched, her skin became covered by scales; on her back, they arose as a richly dark green color with a typical scaling pattern, and her belly was covered in white scutes. These advanced, up her arms, back and chest, and down her tail. Her vagina and related equipment had relocated to her tail, and as the scales reached it, they began covering it, flowing inward and gained access to her inner body. She moaned a bit as her womanhood became enclosed with her body further, and a new, subtle slit was the only clue to the cloaca concealed within. Strange, she thought. I didn't think I had a tail before. But wait... I didn't. And those scales... they are new. What is GOING ON? Awareness began creeping back as the changes progressed, Lucius now completely wrapped around her head to toe (or tail now). Her legs, fully covered in the scales, began to retreat inside her body, pulling up into the region where her hips would have been (now relocated down her tail). As they fully withdrew, a pair of spurs was all that was left to speak of their existence. The scales, having conquered her lower half, spread upward, scutes claiming her front as the green patterns wove across her back. As they went, the scales rearranged her body, inflating it in places to match the tubular shape of her tail. They came to her breasts, gently flattening them as the now useless mammary glands dissipate. As they reached her arms and spread slowly down them, she was fully aware of her situation, and had nothing but terror in her heart. What is happening? This is impossible; how am I turning into... And then she truly noticed Lucius holding her, and it was as if a switch had gone off. The python! Of course! With strength born from fear, Mary fought the snake's coils, to no avail. Instead, Lucius became confused; she had shown no fear at the embrace. Her scent had changed, to be sure, and she was feeling more and more like a female coiled against him, but why was there fear? That fear only intensified as the scales fully retracted arms into her body, shoulders absorbed and flat body fully covered in scutes, scales, and shortly, made to match the writhing cylindrical shape the rest of her had taken. Her head, originally staring at Lucius, was thrown back as her neck locked forward, the scales coming to claim her head. They flattened her head as they passed, causing her hair to fall out as her nostrils flared into slits. Her tongue twisted, becoming thinner, forked, and more flexible, and she let out a hiss of surprise as it flicked out and she could taste everything. That moment was cut short, though, by a painful pressure behind her newly formed mouth and nose; they extended outward, pushing forward into a snake's muzzle. She blinked once more, and then never again as her eyelids were absorbed back into her body. When the scales finally claimed her entire head, she felt her mind slipping, thoughts reducing to simple emotions. She was still Mary, but what did that mean, exactly? One thing was clear, though; a male python now held her against her will. Taking advantage of her new muscles and bulk, she managed to throw him free, leaving Lucius stunned. He was confused; she had been so accepting, he had been so gentle. How had there been fear? Only one thought went through Mary's mind; James. A python had attacked her, transformed her. She had to warn him! Get him away from here! But how? She tried to scream, but hissed instead. No, that wouldn't work; she'd have to wake him herself. Frantically, she slithered up to the tent, inside, and stared at him. Her tongue flicked out instinctually, and was overwhelmed by the scents. Sex had happened here, and recently. So, thisssssss wasssssss my mate, a cold part of her thought. No, is! Her human mind (or what was left) protested. James... need to... need to... What? The cold replied. What do you need? So hard... she thought... need to save him! And how will you manage that? I... I have to save him! He's not safe! He needs to leave! But he isssssss your mate, isssssss he not? Yes, but... And would you not wissssssh him ssssssafe with you? Yes... But he isssssss not sssssssafe now? NO! You can make him ssssssafe, you know. What? If he were like you, would he not be stronger? Better? Ssssssssafer? I... Yessssss, the cold hissed, better. And he could sssssstill be your mate. Mary could barely think. Could she? How would she? It issssss ssssssimpler than you think, the cold promised. Jussssssst hold him onccccce more. And that was all it took. Mary's mind could not handle the scents, the whispers from the cold other within her, the sight of her still naked boyfriend (mate, the other corrected) in the tent. She slithered forward, gently coiling about him. She noticed how his cock, even in his sleeping state, sprang to attention at the contact from her scales. Sssssso receptive, the other mused. Perhapsssss you could sssspeed him along, it suggested. Of course, Mary thought. I have to save him. This is the only way. She continued coiling about his legs, gently wrapping about him until her muzzle was even with his cock. She lifted her neck up so that she had better access to it. Yesssss, go ahead, the cold commanded. Thisssss isssss hissss sssalvation. She gently flicked her tongue out, again overwhelmed by the scent of his arousal, and her own new form of it. Leaving her tongue beyond her muzzle, she ran the forked tip sensuously up and down his rock hard cock. He whispered something in pleasure, lost in the fantasy of a wet dream. Pleased with his response, Mary continued, this time taking his entire cock into her mouth, running her tongue up and down it again and again. As she did, his changes began. His legs were drawn together, meeting and fusing as scales rose up on them. James's coloration was a dark yellow, with creamy white scutes. His spine extended down as his legs fused together, housing the bone that would drive the tail. The tubular shape began, and the scales crept upward towards Mary's head and her current efforts. Reaching James's testicles first, the scales coated them and then gently brought them within his body cavity. He moaned pleasurably, his upper half unaffected by the scales as of yet. The scales came to a halt at the base of his penis, and refused to advance any further. Despite her best efforts, though, the changes would not continue. What? Why? He'ssss not finissshed, he'ssss not sssafe! Mary frantically thought. This was the only way to save him! Aroussssal will only get him sssso far, the other replied. You need to complete him. That made sense to Mary, and so she redoubled her efforts. As she did, she felt something change within her mouth; first, her forked tongue was able to completely stimulate him, but now, only the sides seemed to touch anything. Of courssse, the other said. A male hassss hemipenessss, not jussst one organ. Mary's work produced quite noticeable results in James's behavior; he flailed his lower tail in pleasure, and bucked against the coils a bit. His developing hemipenes became much more tubular, all the more appropriate for mating, the other promised. And suddenly, he came full force through both shafts, expelling the last of his human seed into Mary. She was surprised at the strange taste and sensation, but relieved. The changes were continuing; his own spurs had developed during the climax. You will need to hold him, the other warned. He will sssssleep for not much longer. She had remembered her own reaction to the changes, and continued to coil around him. As she did so, scales and scutes seemed to blossom from wherever she made contact. His tale extended, his hemepenes now relocated down its length (much more convenient, the other remarked, pleased), and the scales made his body into the Burmese python's wherever they went. She came face to face with him just as he opened his eyes. "Whu-?" He groggily intoned before looking at the snake holding him, his changing body, and he cried out in terror. What was happening to him?!?! Scales, a snake, and he had just come... did this snake get him off? What the FUCK?! But the snake didn't seem like it wanted to hurt him. And he was drawn to the eyes... those same impossibly blue eyes that he had been lost in for hours at a time... and he knew. "Mary?" he whispered, almost scared to believe it. She nodded (or as close as), and James sighed in relief. As strange as the situation was, he felt grateful that she was the one changing him. He had promised to always be with her, and that ring in his pack would've been hers this morning if not for... But it didn't matter. They were together, and James lost himself in the pleasure. The changes accelerated, speeding up his chest. But something went awry; although he was tubular, and covered to his shoulders in scales, he felt his hands drawn to the back of his head, like a man submitting for arrest. His fingers melted into his body, and scales webbed down across his forming hood. All that was left was a human face. James reciprocated the coiling, bringing his newly erect hemipenes to Mary's cloaca. The sensation of him entering her... twice... was unbelievable, and the spurs locked in place to allow for uninterrupted mating. They tied themselves together, thrusting against each other as Mary gently flicked her tongue and gave snake kisses to James. His face changed, and he let out a hiss of pain as his jaw extended forward. His reptilian muzzle was developing nicely, and his tongue thinned, forked, and flicked right back to Mary's touching briefly. Then, as they pumped against each other, Mary the Burmese python and James the king cobra came, the sensation unlike any either had ever experienced before. And outside the tent, as they came down off of their impossible high, Lucius gazed on. For the pain and fear he had caused, he felt contrite. But the hisses of pleasure and the enticing scents suggested that maybe, his former mammal was happy after all.