[center][b]Snake Socket[/b][/center]

[center]By Kaydrien Iceclaw[/center]





The panther swallowed down the contents of the little plastic cup, face pulling into grimace at the blueberry and motor-oil taste of the stuff. “Eeeugh…”

“Tastes vile, yeah. Last chance to back out.” Warned the canary. 

Raymon gulped down nerves and bile, glancing at the padded sawhorse- if that was what it was- in the middle of the room. Perhaps it could just as well be considered a tall bench. The metal cuffs fixed to its legs seemed to gleam at him in what he felt was a toothy sort of way.

“No, I need the money. And I already did the… the cleanup, and drank that stuff…”  [i]And I’m a little- no, a lot curious.[/i]

“Welp. Lie down on your front there, then.” The bird, Alf from his name badge, gestured at the bondage furniture with a shrug. “It’s more comfortable than it looks.”

Hoping that statement applied to what was about to happen to him as much as to the sawhorse, Raymon stepped toward the thing. The panther’s feline flexibility mitigated the awkwardness of straddling it. All the same he couldn’t very well keep his hands covering his naked crotch as he settled onto the padded platform. Plush balls made contact a fraction of a second before the short black fur of his rump.

He did his best to ignore the canary as he lowered himself forward onto the narrow surface, keenly aware as he had to adjust the position of his wedding tackle in the process. Between keeping his penis and testicles tucked forward where they would necessarily bear the brunt of his own body weight and wrangling them back behind on full display, the latter seemed only barely a more comfortable option. 

The other man paid blessedly little attention to the cat. Feathered arms slapped Raymon’s legs into the cuffs at that side of the bench with businesslike offhandedness. Raymon placed his own arms into the fetters on that end on a shy impulse to reduce the amount of touching. But Alf evidently found something unsatisfactory about his angle and spent even more time there, pulling his elbow further down. Several turns of a wingnut on the inside of the frame brought the cuffs down to match. And then Raymon was locked to the bench by all four limbs.

That ordeal complete he began to relax, until a surprise grip on his tail caused him to jerk in his restraints. 

“Hold steady, just gotta get that tail out of the way.” Alf said casually. With practiced ease he looped some gadget around the thrashing tail and pulled it tight about three quarters toward its tip-end all in one motion. The binding was duly clipped onto the end of a rope that had hung from the ceiling unnoticed by the nervous feline, and that too adjusted to keep the tail pulled skyward.

Only now did Alf step back to actually look at the bound cat. He nodded with professional approval at the feline who resolutely looked away. Smooth lines, nice muscle definition (no body builder, but athletic), tail outta the way so everything was visible, and that male package was hanging off the edge at the end of the bench just right. And the angles for the cameras in the ceiling were all set up already. “That should do it. You ready?”

Raymon nodded, and then felt a little silly nodding to someone outside his field of view. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Great.” Alf ambled over to the door and leaned out. “Martin, get your scaly ass over here.”

“No need to sssshout.” Responded a sibilant hiss, soft but firm. Raymon craned his neck to look toward the door in time to see the speaker nose into the warm mood-lighting of the room. 

Martin was a snake, of course. That was the point. Feral-form, with no legs or arms, he slithered around the doorjam. And slithered. And kept slithering. Raymon gaped as almost twenty-five feet of green-scaled constrictor coiled all the way into the room.

“I know my sssssschedule jussst fine, thankssss.” The serpent said, all dignified annoyance. Chartreuse eyes turned to the restrained Raymon. “Thiss isss him, then.”

“No, I tied him up for fun.” Alf chirped sarcastically. “Yes that’s him. I’ve gotta go get to the booth, get ready to do your thing.”

Martin paid no attention as the bird stamped out, only waited perfectly still until the door shut. Then the snake shifted, head rolling in a stretch that flowed into a smooth undulation across the floor around Raymon.

“Don’t mmmind the featherhead.” He told Raymon, voice smooth and steady as the rest of his movements. Every word in a relaxed cadence, especially the drawn out ‘s’s as was the snake stereotype, but the soft consonants stretched luxuriantly as well. “He doesssn’t like me very much. And I don’t esssspecially care for himmm.”

“I guesss- I mean, I guess not.” The panther said. What a strange feeling to be addressed so conversationally while in his present position. “What’s the booth?”

“The camera and sssound room. He can ssssee through all of those.” Martin lifted his head to indicate with his snout the ceiling and the four or so cameras there, and then at a handful of discrete holes in the walls. “And adjusssst thingsss as required. I do not think youuu have done thisss before, no?”

“No.” Raymon swallowed nervously. “I mean, I’m looking forward to it. I just haven’t. Umm. You’re really long.”

He worried he’d said the wrong thing, but the snake took no offense, just glided smoothly around  to face him. “I have to be, for thisss.”

“I suppose so. Heh. Hehe.”

The unblinking eyes met his. “Be calm. You will do jusssst fine; I will do the hhhhhard parts.”

Said in Martin’s assured tones, Raymon found it easy to believe the reassurance. He smiled back gratefully. And then giggled at the double meaning. “I guess that’s true.”

The snake bobbed his head in silent echo.

“Everything’s green.” The speakers, which must have been concealed in the ceiling somewhere, added an electric buzz to Alf’s words. “Make it good. I’m starting the cameras in three, two, one.”

Alf’s announcement cut off with a pop. Accordingly, Martin lowered to the ground. He undulated forward, closing the distance between himself and the bench from ten feet to five, and then three, and then Raymon couldn’t see the snake’s head through the bench where it extended somewhat beyond his chin. He flinched back when the boa’s angular face rose up inches from his in total silence, and half stifled his yelp as this accomplished no more than to yank his tail.

“Take a deep breathhhhhhh-” Martin whispered. His tongue flickered out to tickle the end of the panthers nose. “in, and open your mouth.”

Raymon obeyed, pulling air into his lungs until his ribs pressed tight against the platform of the sawhorse, and opened his mouth.

The boa didn’t lunge for the opening as he had half expected. Martin just glided an inch toward his open maw and flicked at his teeth with that delicate forked tongue. Raymon twitched, but succeeded in fighting down a reflexive response to snap his jaw closed. Seeing this, the serpent proceeded slowly forward, nose gliding just between Raymon’s front teeth. 

He was suddenly sure that the snake had done it on purpose, in order to gauge his reaction. He opened wider until his jaw creaked complaint at him to show he was fully ready and felt more than saw the snake’s head glide between his tongue and upper jaw. 

Martin was a very narrow snake for his length, maybe three inches wide at the widest part of his jaw. He still could not get far before the sides of his snout brushed at the entrance of Raymon’s throat. Despite his best efforts- and the wretched-tasting medicated syrup - the panther gagged, eyes wincing shut. Martin’s head wedged past his tonsils and pressed hard until his skull cleared the cat’s epiglottis with a tactile pop and continued on.

Raymon swallowed convulsively around the intrusion, but of course Martin was anchored by the whole rest of his extensive body and proceeded at his own smooth pace. Nonetheless he sped up as if to humor him now that his head was past the first hurdle. Inch after inch slid over Raymon’s tongue and down his very confused throat.

Feeling that the worst was over he gingerly relaxed his jaw so that his teeth glided over Martin’s rows of slick scales and opened his eyes. He blinked at the thick rope of reptile passing inward just under his nose. 

From this close, and now that he was really looking, Martin had a rather interesting pattern of scales running down his back. Horizontal stripes of white scales on the brilliant off-lime green. Perhaps more accurately they were patches of scales, not really lines as the word ‘stripe’ would imply but each a single zig-zag that came to a point on either end. They reminded Raymond of the cartoonish warning signs on high-voltage equipment, that pictorial shorthand for electricity or lightning. Each moved past his lips in turn one after one.

Things started to feel really strange when Martin nosed into his stomach and the panther’s sense of touch somewhat lost track. He felt a brief cramp as that stretchable little space was briefly explored, then the serpentine spelunker pressed right past and onward into his small intestine. Now well and truly past the parts of Raymon that were under voluntary control the stretching intrusion became a vague sense of full wrongness in his viscera. 

The unpleasant aspect of it was strongest at that first plunge into Raymon’s duodenum. He might have panicked if he weren’t so fully restrained. Legs, arms, tail, and of course Martin himself was serving as a total gag against any attempt to vocalize. Fortunately the worst of the feeling waned quickly and simply became strange instead.

Unable to do anything else the panther simply felt Martin continue to thread through his innards, deeper and deeper, and then hitting the innermost point and outward, and then this way and that along the twisting tunnel of his small intestines. 

By this point Raymon’s lungs started to burn. He wished he hadn’t lost that little bit of air when Martin had flicked his tongue. Nothing to do about it now, however. Though narrow for his length the boa’s body took up every bit of space in his throat for the time being. His belly was being expanded outward by virtue of scaly coils filling more and more of it…

Abruptly the sensation changed. Inside, Martin had just poked through from the small intestine into the large. At the same time he ran out of tail outside his entrance to continue pushing. So, naturally, he began to pull instead. Muscles bending himself through the innards in such a way to gain traction against the intestinal walls. 

The shift put more stress on Raymon just as he was really beginning to feel the oxygen deprivation. He thrashed, only the few inches his bondage setup allowed, but enough that he’d be feeling it in his wrists, ankles, and tail later. He was going to suffocate. For sure. His eyes rolled in his head, he was going to die- And just as things were going a little fuzzy around the edges, the stretch of snake currently occupying his throat narrowed just enough to let his lungs empty themselves out and fill again. Painfully slow, but it was sweet sweet air indeed. Flavored slightly with the subtle musk of constrictor, and perhaps sweeter for that. 

He sagged, swelled belly pressed by the bench. At least Martin’s body was taking a share of its own weight. Like rebar in concrete.

Now past the adrenaline rush of suffocation he could muse that this was starting to feel like, to put it delicately, the need to ‘go’. Sort of, not really. The snake was more solid, slow and steady. And- there, almost out, a stretch recognizable from a few gay hookups, but damn was Martin big (and headed the other direction).

Martin knew his way around a digestive tract by touch, of course. And it wasn’t like there was more than one way to go in any case. Still, the snake hissed his satisfaction to emerge into open air and took his own deep draft of life-giving oxygen. The inhalation pulled Raymon’s innards a little wider around his expanding ribcage before they could slacken once more on the breath out as visceral reminder of one living creature inside another.

“Sssssaaahh… You’re sssssomething of a tight fit…” Martin commented. He pushed himself an inch or two further out, enough to pivot and look a bit at the ass from which he had emerged. “…Nice balllllsssss…”

“I bet you’re pretty tight too.” 

Raymon’s head janked in the direction the words had come, or rather tried to. Martin’s tail end didn’t automatically cooperate, rasping against his throat and becoming a rubbery resistance against his neck’s attempt to bend. He momentarily cut off his own air supply that way and triggered a reflex to swallow, which didn’t work out so well but automatically tried to repeat itself until he started to cough.

“I can be…” Martin returned flirtatiously to the bull. Having come in sometime during the snake’s long trip through Raymon the beefy bovine leaned casually against the wall by the door, grinning. He wasn’t the only one who had arrived; Three others joined him, all naked, all male, and all in some visible degree of arousal. The snake bobbed his head in greeting to them, pulling the cat’s rim up and down. “Ssssee for yourssself?”

“Can’t say no to that.” The bull pushed off the wall and unhurriedly walked toward Raymon’s back end, arriving half-chub first in front of Martin. “C’mon, open up wide, snaky.” 

“I call other end!” 

“No way, that cloaca’s mine!”

The first was a thick-furred wolf and shortest of the four newcomers by virtue of being about average height. The second, a bear in multiple senses of the word, chunky and broad-shouldered and carrying a mix of chub and muscle. They pushed and elbowed one another as they made their way over toward the bench.

When Raymon became fully aware of them- having just succeeded in breaking the recursive loop of swallow-choke on snake-cough and achieved somewhat regular breathing-  it was as a two sets of hips and male genitals, and two pairs of hands swinging down above him. Rock, and scissors.

“My dibs are validated! Now back off, we’ll all get plenty of turns.” The wolf declared, and shoved the bear back. For his part the bear settled back with good grace to fondle himself from the sidelines.

Around a foot of snake was hanging out of the bound panther’s mouth. The wolf lifted it in search of his target: pink horizontal slit bulging fleshy between two of the serpent’s smooth bellyscutes. He leered anticipation down at the reptilian cloaca. Running a thumb over it he pressed in so the tip of his digit popped in. As if to meet it two irregular pink nubs popped out.

“Looks like someone else is excited too. Enjoying yourself snaky?” 

Martin didn’t answer. His mouth was full of bull.

“He’s a little busy right now. Hoo boy.” Sighed the recipient of the snake’s blowjob happily. He stroked over the top of Martin’s skull with a finger while the reptilian maw slid slowly over his slender penis. “Nothing like it… View doesn’t hurt either.”

If he was not indeed busy Martin would have been happy to agree with that. What he had seen of Raymon’s ass a minute ago, and what he could see now in his peripheral vision, was worth looking at. He could only assume the feline’s body as a whole was the same from the bull’s perspective. Later on perhaps he would confirm that.

For now though he focused on twining his tongue around the hot flesh in his mouth. The bull tasted of sweat, that purely mammalian phenomenon, salty and masculine. And it must be said he wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Like most hoofers he had some generous balls down there under his sheath. 

Unfortunate that he wouldn’t likely get to mouth those nuts thoroughly too. Most males at these events tended to focus on getting their dicks wet. Martin would just have to make do. He took in more, extending himself until his nose pressed against the soft backstop of the bull’s sheath so he could flick his tongue out over the bovine nutsack.

At his other end the wolf prodded around Martin’s cloaca playfully with his tip. Missing on purpose so he could tease his cock with scales and skin. He tickled himself on the prickly hemipenes that were fully emerged from their nest, smooth surface changing to soft spike shapes halfway down the twin bulbous lengths.

“Come on, man.” Complained the bear in a smooth baritone from where he was slowly stroking his penis off to the side of the bench. “Fair’s fair but don’t make me wait all day. I bet stripes there agrees too.”

‘Stripes’ meant the zebra leaning casually up against the wall. Lean and muscular, his eyes rested comfortably on the sex scene unfolding in front of him with his heavy horsecock hanging at a relaxed half-mast between his legs. It bobbed in time to his heartbeat, a fraction higher each time. “Hey, man, I like to watch. Let him take his time.”

It became a moot point before the debate could continue in any case. The red canine cock slipped in smoothly with a gratified huff from its owner, who slid himself in and out to a bouncing tempo.

Raymon was in an excellent position to watch the other man penetrate Martin’s tailhole. He hadn’t realized just how far down the snake’s body that orifice was. Logically he should have. He knew what was going to be happening when he signed on, in broad strokes at least, and of course Martin’s nethers had to be outside him if they were going to be in use. All the same somewhere in the back of his mind he had thought the snake’s cloaca would be somewhere around his stomach, say two thirds down in body length, where he would imagine legs if there had been any. In a sense that must mean Martin’s ‘hips’ were nearly at the end of his tail.

Another thing he hadn’t quite expected was feeling disconnected from the act. Martin’s body was an undeniably intimate contact looped through him as it was, and it pulled slightly at his mouth each time the wolf tugged it back over his maleness. Rearward Martin’s neck shifted in his anus with the blowjob the bull was getting. But none of the actual sex was happening directly to him and that made him feel oddly voyeuristic. Like watching a porno. No, as if he was cuddling with someone- Martin in this case- while they got fucked. 

With the added perversion of being full end to end it was an intense but strangely impersonal turn-on that hardened the cat’s penis against the edge of the sawhorse.

The wolf pulled him back into closer contact with events by scratching him behind the ears with the hand not using the snake stroker on his erection. “You’re a hell of a sight tied up like that, kitty. Bet you must feel so stuffed.”

The best answer Raymon could offer was a breathy groan distorted by the pressure of scales on his windpipe. 

“If you like the idea so much why not do it yourself?” Said the bear, who couldn’t have been finding the view objectionable either given how much he was dripping. 

“Maybe someday. Shit, I’m not going to last very-“ With a grunt the wolf abandoned that sentence to focus on humping the tight snakehole. His growing knot slapped against Martin’s cloaca as it grew, and driven by pleasure he shoved one last hard time until it slipped in with a pop and stayed there. “Oh fuck yeah…”

Raymon could see the bulge of that knot swelling inside Martin, the balls underneath hopping as the wolf started to unload welcome hot cum into the cold-blooded reptile. 

“Great, if you’re done I want my turn.”

“Naaah, I’m knotted. Gonna take at least ten minutes.” He told the bear happily. 

“I’m not waiting. It’ll be fine” Striding over the bear swiftly reached past Raymon’s head for the scaly appendage. “Look at this.”

“Hey don-“

The protest was cut off by the slippery pop of Martin’s tailhole being pulled free of the canine knob. The snake’s coils tensed inside Raymon in reflex from the sudden yank but relaxed moments later. 

Still wolf gaped down at the tail in the bear’s hands, dribbling his cum on the floor much like his suddenly-bare cock was.

“See?” The bear said cheerfully. “Super stretchy. Never seen them open up to swallow a whole chicken or some shit?”

Raymon watched with wide eyes as by way of demonstration the ursine slid two fingers into the used snakehole and pulled them apart to gape it wide. As close as he was he got to see the skin stretch and shift elastically under scales, and the hemipenes moveS with the pull. He wished his hands were free so he could touch too.

“Oh fuck.” Intrigued the wolf slid one of his fingers in alongside the bear’s to test Martin’s pliant cloaca. “I thought that was just at the mouth end.”

“Nope.” Decreed the bear smugly. “Now shift out of the way, it’s my turn.”

Still leaking his orgasm the wolf had no objection to this, coming around to kneel by the side of the bondage platform. He knelt there while the other man happily pressed his cockhead into the stretchy tail and began to fuck.

Raymon was startled to feel the hand rise to pat at the side of his belly, rubbing the ebony fur of that distended middle. “So stuffed. Yeah, gotta try being in your shoes some time.”

Meanwhile the bull using Martin’s mouth had taken a more active role in his own pleasure. Humping into the snake’s expert maw now he was definitely sliding toward climax. His tip reached into Martin’s throat, which tightened around him when he was at the deepest point, the serpent swallowing to add just that little bit of extra friction each time until with a bellow his balls tightened to shoot their load. 

Martin drank the warm jizz down greedily, a warmth that spread from inside to meet the warmth soaking in from Raymon. Absolute bliss. The scaly hooker adored this aspect of his job where he got to work with mammals. They were so hot, in multiple ways. This was like having a good bask, but wet and sloppy and sexy to boot. And when he got to be inside, well, the massage from his partners’ stuffed guts just added that little extra and topped any spa he could think of.

Despite the snake’s greed he couldn’t get down all of the bull’s volume as fast as it was coming out. Some leaked back around the shaft into his mouth, one little dribble spilling over his lower jaw and swinging back to splat against Raymon’s cock unnoticed by everyone except the cat.

“That’s the good stuff.” He praised as his load came to an end. With a sluggishness that was part reluctance to leave the cool wet maw and part autovoyeuristic glee of seeing his slender shaft slide out into the open, he drew back out until his tip flicked free completely clean.  “I taste good?”

“Llllovely.” The sensuous affirmation resonated into the panther’s belly and sent a shiver running through him. Martin tightened the coils within in teasing reassurance. “Who’ssss next? My mouth feelsssss lonely now.”

“Guess that’s me.” Having achieved his full impressive length of twelve hard inches the zebra stepped forward, around the wolf still massaging Raymon’s middle enviously, and took up position where the bull had been. He stroked his equine shaft with exhibitionist flair, and slapped it playfully against Raymon’s left buttock before pulling back to allow Martin access. It left a smear behind on black fur, the snake curving to rub his exposed neck against it as it retreated past him. “Gonna show me how good you are at eating big things whole?”

“Of courssse.” Forked tongue flicked the wide head of that black-skinned length, making it hop in a gratifying way. “Let me sssswallow you downnnnn…”

Opening wide Martin immediately suited words to actions. He gently closed his mouth around the broad tip, gnawing ever so softly on the male meat, and then began to extend forward. He did so with tortuous slowness, for the show of it and to give himself time to adjust. The zebra’s pride in his endowment was fully justified. Wide enough to require the snake’s jaw to pop slightly as it reached the back of his mouth and force into his throat.

Impatiently the zebra took charge then and humped forward, ramming himself down the boa’s oral canal and compressing a wet [i]glurk[/i] of air out of the normally elegant snake. His intent to roughly penetrate all at once was stymied at the halfway point however: The rock-hard black zebra cock was approximately a foot long. And Martin’s available length outside of Raymon’s rump was only slightly more than half that.

So as a result the equine cockhead mashed to a halt against the point where snake met feline anus, the additive resistance of pucker and throat creating a backstop. Frustrated, the zebra pushed and ground against that too-narrow gap, friction radiating pleasurably through his cockhead.

Both Raymon and Martin flinched at the forceful pressure. The sensation caused a dual struggle against their respective restraints for an awkward moment before the striped menace pulled back slightly with a grunt to make do with more shallow thrusting.

“Holy shiiiiit.” Whistling admiringly, the wolf shuffled sideways to peer at the rough throatfuck happening under Raymon’s tail. “You’ve got a monster there.”

“Fuck yeah I do.” The zebra agreed without bothering to pause. 

“I can just see that thing through there.” Sure enough it was easy to see the end of the bulge traveling up and down in the available length of reptile. He reached between the pistoning bodies, closing his hand around Martin’s neck to feel it happen. The speed of humping was slowed by sheer friction and tightness, manifesting as a tactile tightness under the wolf’s fingers. “That is so hot. Can you get all the way in? I gotta see that.”

“Nah, fucker’s too… damn… tight…” A hard slam in for each of those words made Martin’s eyes bug out from the strain.

“Shit, pull back a second, I got an idea.”

The zebra grumbled but obliged while the wolf hurriedly pressed two fingers into his mouth, slobbering in his haste. Seconds later, a stunned Martin realized the wet pressure of one of those fingers up against his body. It pressed at the contact point between his neck and Raymon’s anus.

“Almost… one sec.” 

Vicious prodding at the already-strained tailhole popped the first knuckle, then the second of that index finger in alongside the scaled form. Raymon gasped and began choking again, which stopped neither the bull stroking himself off to the side, the bear messily sodomizing Martin’s tailhole, the wolf fingering his ass, or the zebra making centimeter-shallow thrusts back and forth just behind the hinge of Martin’s jaw.

Amazingly the canine managed to wedge a second finger, then a third into Raymon alongside the snake to send a dull shooting pain through the cat. He wiggled the wet digits in for a minute, savoring the erotic stretch in the feline sphincter. When he pulled them out they glistened with spit and clean rectal self-lubrication.

“Okay, try now.”

The enthusiastic jerk of striped hips fully cut off Martin’s airflow once again, black battering ram of a phallus barging through and allowing no argument. Its tip slammed once more into the junction of ass and neck. For a long heartbeat it looked like it would be halted once more and limited to grinding against that gateway, but finally Raymon’s tailstar gave up and it exploded through.

This time the panther achieved a whine around his own throatful as his ass was stretched open even further than before. Pain, dulled and rounded off by how far and how long that orifice had already been held open. Even more fullness. 

And of course the bulge of that equine cockhead smashed his prostate hard enough to make it empty itself entirely in self-defense, which confused the sensations immensely. Raymon’s jizz streamed out to drizzle down the end of the bondage bench rather than spurting. The wolf, kinky fucker, scooped some of it up to taste while he enjoyed the view.

Now past the barrier the zebra humped wildly into the incredible tightness. He settled into a beat, nudging Martin’s snoot as he bottomed out into it while working a third of his length in and out. 

“Oh fuck. So tight.”

Each time he passed Raymon’s love-button a little bit oozed out of the catcock under him. Funnily enough it only became an orgasm for the feline- A ragged, abused sort of orgasm- on about the fifth stroke when he was well and truly out of jizz to give. The zebra himself lasted half a minute more before he shoved in as far as he could to send his load pulsing out into that wet tunnel.

On his way out the zebra groaned at the intensity as his cockhead, wider than ever at full flare, caught once more on that tightest spot. It took one more yank to clear that obstacle and send his softening cock spilling out, a flood of zebra and bull jizz following it onto the floor. Martin was too busy gasping for air to try to catch it.

“I got next!” Howled the wolf happily.

[center]***[/center]

Things got a little indistinct for Raymon after that point. Operating on a limited oxygen supply while drowning in various sensations, scents, and sights, with no way to act on any of them very much, made it impossible to keep track in much detail. 

This much he knew; all of the men took several turns using martin from both ends. Vigorous fucking, more fucking, a little rimming when the wolf licked a half-dozen mixed loads out of Martin’s cloaca while he winked at Raymon lewdly, fucking, jerking off to the sight of the near continuous spitroasting, even more fucking. And despite the premise of the evening, attention wasn’t entirely limited to Martin. Raymon had been groped just about everywhere, and his back painted with several loads.

Now he was vaguely aware that the last of the other males had finally exhausted their libidos and wandered off. No doubt they would pick up the recordings of this session later, a memento of Martin and Raymon whoring themselves out to them in this unique way that they had all paid quite well for. He marinated in the smells and the continued fullness that was Martin, exhausted but unable to feel other than horny and used. Erotically catatonic.

“Raymonnnn…” For a moment he couldn’t place the voice. Martin’s smooth tones were rough around the edges, ragged despite his undeniable flexibility. This had been his first time dealing with a horsecock at a threading show, and he was finding it a bit humbling. Turned out that pressure from inside on top of pressure from outside made it a little more than even a constrictor’s throat could handle without consequence. “I’m going to come out nnnnow. Bear withhhh me.”

Not that the panther had any choice. Scaled coils shifted inside him, and began to lever forward against his internal twists and turns. That vibrantly green tail slipped forward over his tongue smoothly until Martin’s cocks hooked on his chin. Still hard, ish. They flipped back under the pull, hemipenes and used cloaca dragging over his palate. Five flavors of jizz met his awareness- four from the tailhole, and the last the taste of Martin’s own pleasure clinging to those prickly pricks.

Another coughing fit took him as the snake’s malenesses tickled his tonsils on the way down. This time though he could get it out of his system as the tip of the tail cleared his airway and he could properly swallow down the taste of snake and jizz after it.

Inch after inch, and then foot after foot, of reptile slid out from under the feline’s tail. By the simple geometry of the situation enough of Martin’s weight came to rest on the cat’s balls and made him grunt in discomfort.

“Sssssorry.” As quickly as he could Martin shifted to an angle that wouldn’t squash those (still lovely-looking) nuts under him. 

Martin’s exit was as intimate a process as his entry. And much slower. Both of them were exhausted, and the serpent was in no hurry. Both of them could breathe this time too, which made for no time pressure. Besides. He was getting to put his hemipenes, sensitive from lack of direct stimulation throughout this whole affair, through a full tour of the panther from front to back. An extended slow drag against slippery digestive tract that was getting him worked up again.

Raymon did no more than work his lungs and cope with having an empty esophagus. He didn’t feel up to something complicated like making conversation. Just to bask in the stretch leaving his pipes as Martin’s tailtip slid along through was enough. 

“Hang on. There’s ssssssomething I’d like to do before I’mmm all the way out.”

The snake’s statement made him aware that Martin was almost entirely out of him, his middle no longer distended. Not all the way out though. There was still a good foot lodged in his anus, held in place by the snake who was now coiled on the floor behind him. Something rubbed up against that place inside he associated with anal sex, and pleasure when it wasn’t totally flattened. And now pleasure when it was.

“You have such a nice assssss…” Martin complemented him. Hemipenes fully hard again after the trip through, they were grinding against the feline’s poor mashed love button. The whole tail moved in and out subtly to rub them there, and lewdly to rub the snake’s own leaking cloaca into it. “It would be a shame not to fffffuck it while I’m here.”

Raymon gave a husky sound of agreement. No chance at all that he would cum himself at this point, after having been squeezed dry from the inside. At least twice. But he liked Martin, and the friction scrubbing his prostate was still nice. In his fucked-out exhaustion he approved.

In some indeterminate lazy time Martin hissed his enjoyment, spilling cum into the well-stretched anal canal. Not the first load to be left there, it joined one other smear of semen- the anonymous bear had once enterprisingly penetrated alongside Martin’s body like the wolf had done with his fingers. And in the process given the constrictor the pleasure of having those ursine balls rubbed all over his head while he sucked the wolf’s knot, which was lovely.

“Thankssss.” He slipped out of the tailhole, hemipenes popping free before the tailtip slid out entirely. Raymond’s ass was left totally gaping. It contracted lazily around empty air, unable yet to close all the way. 

Martin slithered around to Raymon’s head and came in close. For an instant the hazy panther thought it was all going to start over again, and he was going to once more be full of snake, and he would just accept it because he was tired and soaked in sex. But to his relief the snake merely pecked him in a sparse lipless kiss.

“You did ssspectacular.” 

“Tha…” Raymon panted.

“I’m sure Alllllfred will be in in a moment to let you out.” He assured. “Maybe we’ll meet again… certainly I’ll be wanting my own copy of the ffffoootage.”

“Yeh.” 

The damp snake slithered over to the door, lifting himself upward to turn the latch with his head, and disappeared out the door, a trail of cum in his wake. Raymon settled in to wait to be let free, insides complaining now more of their emptiness after having grown accustomed to being full of constrictor.





[center]The End[/center]