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Pythonic Privacy 11 textless + story by Inkanyamba

Pythonic Privacy 11 textless + story

Inkanyamba

The churning of the python's body seemed to have lasted for hours – Moka felt like jelly as this point, his limbs squeezed into a dull stupor by the relentless churning walls, the slimy lining of the gullet had smeared every strand of his fur, getting into his mouth and nose, lubricating his body to the point that he didn't even feel the warmth of the dark soft tunnel he was in, the mechanical waves of pressure equating his body temperature to the snake's. His mind was just as numbed as his muscles, the unwavering shoving of his head and smothering of his face restricting his breathing and the air around him becoming more and more stale, forcing him to pant heavily simply not to collapse. Fighting his desire to give up the pointless struggle and fall asleep, he continued to push the smothering folds away, refused to close his eyes on the fear of never opening them again, even though he could see nothing but darkness for so long.

The python has long stopped moving or observing the bulge make its slow descent, coiled in a great soft pile, his head resting peacefully on top of it. With his eyes closed, Jajuka concentrated on the feeling deep inside himself, the prey's struggle tickling and massaging him weakly as it travelled through. Smiling, he talked to the bunny within him: "Don't give up, little buddy – keep pushing harder." The doomed mammal could barely understand the muffled voice coming from somewhere outside, his eyelids half-closed, his arms weak from the lack of air. He long since stopped trying to push with his feet, the rolling muscles subduing any escape attempt before it could start, holding his legs together in a wet soft embrace, dragging him slowly inward; his arms could only just keep him from getting smothered, pushing the downy rolls of the gullet away barely enough to get another lungful of thick and moist breath – he's been breathing the same air over and over again, depriving it of oxygen, feeling weaker and dizzier with every breath but still clinging to his consciousness, opening his mouth wide and lolling his tongue out, trying not to fall asleep.

Moka's descent seemed to slow down as the soft kneading subsided, still holding his legs tight but leaving some space around his torso. He let his arms fall by his side, his head dropping softly into the pliable wet fold of the predator's body, feeling weightless and helpless, staring into darkness, his mind numb and his body so weak he didn't even tremble. Soon, he felt as if the folds around him started getting closer, pressing softly against him, forcing his elbows into his sides, filling into every crevice, pressing his legs apart into their own long wet sleeves. His mind didn't react for a while, enveloped in the vertigo-inducing blanket of the python's innards, half asleep from the trial of his day, the constriction, the hypnosis, the kneading in the darkness, until one of the folds started to encroach on his face again, closing his eyes. He moved his hand to push it away, but it never stopped, pressing against his palm, small mounds forming between his fingers. He started to panic then – every time before pressure from the gullet came and went as he travelled further down; this time he wasn't moving anywhere and the walls were collapsing on his body with no remorse. He jerked his head up, eyes bulging, pressing his hand upward, trying to stop another fold from falling on him.
A gentle voice reached him: "Thank you, bunny. You were a lot of fun." The past tense in the python's voice indicating the end almost awoke Mokadu from his stupor, but he was weakened beyond desperation now, his mind fuzzy and scattered, smothering of the relentless body descending upon him, holding him still and quiet.

"Time to rest" – he heard the snake announce as wet folds fell on his head again, this time grasping it securely, preventing him from facing away. Pressing his right hand into the body above his head uselessly, the slippery mounds staying still, squeezing through his fingers, he wormed his left hand up to his lips, trying to keep his mouth open as the gullet around him secured his body tightly, like a wet sleeping bag. The descent of the fold from above proceeded, forcing his right arm down to his chest, his torso becoming entombed in in the soft muscle rising from below. As the wet darkness crawled closer and closer to his face, he heard the python's voice say: "Sleep tight".

At long last, he was completely enveloped in the rolling downy folds. His face smothered and his body too weakened to struggle anymore, he stared into the darkness, his limbs pressed tightly together. As he opened his mouth wider in an instinctual attempt to breath in, another slippery fold blocked it, stopping any stale air from entering his lungs. Occasional muscles twitching weakly, he slowly started to lose consciousness, finally giving up his struggle and letting the giant body have its reward. No thoughts entered his mind now, his fear gone a long time ago, his struggles now abandoned. Held tightly by the body greater than his, the evaporating remains of Jajuka's hypnosis reassured him: there was no point in escaping. He belonged in this place.

Finally, after the longest day in his life, Mokadu fell asleep.

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