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>> #169615
Posted on 2017-04-20 13:14:15
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"The jungle at twilight was alive with sound. Insects hissed and clicked in the undergrowth as the dense canopy of leaves and branches rustled like crashing tides. It was enough to rouse Stephen from a fitful sleep - and as he regained consciousness, the young man felt a growing sense of unease. This was definitely not his camp. For one thing, he was in the open air, with no tents or equipment to be seen; for another, he was completely naked. The moonlight filtering through from high above him played out over Stephen's dark skin, making the dewy sweat glisten. He was hot, far too hot to think straight: at least during the day there had been a breeze to cool him down. Tonight, the air was still, and so humid that Stephen felt he might drown if he breathed in too deeply. He could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his stomach...

His stomach. Hunger pangs forced Stephen to look down at himself, and he frowned in confusion. He and his friends had bedded down for the night after a generous meal, so why did it feel like he hadn't eaten in days? And come to think of it, he certainly didn't remember that paint being there when he fell asleep. Ornate geometric patterns adorned his naked body, glowing an eerie blue against his brown skin. There was something beautiful about the decoration: the lavish curves and swirls covered his chest, his arms and stomach and thighs. As he weakly propped himself up on his elbows, he saw the dye covering his genitals, too: small spirals adorning each of his balls, and a figure-eight across the shaft of his flaccid penis.

That was when he saw the figure drifting through the shadows of the clearing. They were tall, moving with inhuman grace and speed. Stephen's pulse quickened as he realised the figure was watching him, two eyes glinting momentarily in the darkness. He grunted, trying to sit up properly, to stand, to run away, but the starving pain in his stomach was sapping any energy he had. He was about to speak up or maybe cry for help, but his voice abruptly disappeared. The figure was now standing over him.

That is, they would have been standing, if they had any visible legs. The figure was naked, his muscular body morphing at the waist into the coils of an enormous, fat snake. His head was a serpent's, too: even in the dim light Stephen could see the molten red of his eyes, glowing ferociously. The strange creature's arms were folded across its chest, thick with muscle. He was wearing an array of necklaces and bracelets, and his scaly skin was adorned with white tribal markings. The only one Stephen recognised was a large crescent moon across the creature's chest. His pulse racing, the naked human was transfixed by the beast's gaze. What was it? Something he had seen before, in a book perhaps, or a story. A man with the body of a snake...

"Naga," Stephen breathed. His mouth was dry; his tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

In reply, the creature let out a long, low hiss. The sound seemed to course through the human's plump body, making him shiver. Imperceptibly, the markings on his skin glowed brighter.

"Are - are you--"

"Kunya'u," said the naga. His voice was deep and guttural, with a proud authority. The undergrowth was suddenly alive beneath him as those coils shifted, the very tip of the serpent's tail holding a wooden bowl. It hung in the air, inches from Stephen's face. "Kunya'u." The command was repeated, firmly.

Stephen propped himself up a little. The bowl was full of a viscous fluid, smelling sweet but also quite bitter. He was nervous, but the pain in his stomach and the dryness in his mouth got the better of him. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to the rim of the bowl, and began to drink. The flavours were fruity, syrupy and pleasant at first, but as he kept swallowing, Stephen's throat began to burn. It was almost like alcohol, but the sweetness and the way it seemed to stain the inside of his mouth were definitely not normal booze. Nor was it normal that the markings on his body were starting to glow brighter, and...move? His view was obscured as the bowl was lifted higher by the naga's tail. Before he realised, Stephen had swallowed the whole lot.

A blush came to his cheeks as he swallowed again, the strangely pleasant aftertaste lingering in his mouth. He looked up at the scaly beast only to see its slitted ruby-red eyes gazing into his. It was as if the naga was smirking at him. The sensation was unsettling, but only worsened as he glanced back down at his body and saw the painted markings dancing over his skin. They curled and coiled like the serpent's body, corkscrewing into spirals and shapes Stephen didn't recognise. As the lights danced, the human's skin began to tingle, as if a mass of static electricity was building up. He felt his heart begin to race, looking around himself as anxiety spread. He still could barely move: that much was clear. He was helpless to respond, but then again, he had no idea how. Magical blue gel was shifting across his naked body as he lay supine beneath an enormous mythical snake-monster - nothing in any books or summer camp exercises had prepared him for this.

"What the hell are you?" he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. But the naga kept its steady, piercing grin. And then, all of a sudden, the paints flickered into darkness. The shapes and patterns disappeared, and the only light left in the clearing was from the moon and the eerie, fiery glow of the naga's eyes. Stephen almost couldn't see it as his pubic hair began to grow.

Wait, what?! Stephen's eyes widened in shock as he saw it: it wasn't just his pubes either. The curly hair on his stomach was starting to grow, to thicken. So was the fuzz on his arms, his thighs too. It felt like his body was covered with goosebumps, a prickling sensation. He winced as the same burning in his throat from before had spread into his body, into every muscle and bone. There was a dull, uncomfortable ache, the feeling of something going terribly wrong. His legs, his arms, his torso, all felt constricted, as if they were compressing, shrinking. His spine was curving, shifting, his ribs likewise. The pain was bizarre, strange, like nothing Stephen had felt before. It wasn't the agony of a broken bone or the sting of a burn. It was like the exhausted ache after a morning at the gym. When he realised what was happening, he had already shrunk by several inches.

For a moment he considered that this might be a dream; one of those ones where your legs fall off and you're scared to look under the sheets when you wake up. He thought about pinching himself - and as he did, he felt a dull pinch in his stomach. That was just the beginning, though: there was an uncanny sense of movement inside him, as if bits and pieces were rearranging, re-shaping themselves. It should have been painful, he thought; I should be in agony. But even as he witnessed his own stomach swelling in front of him, now covered with a layer of fluffy hair, it didn't hurt a bit. Even as he lifted a hand up and saw the fingers thickening, the tip of each digit hardening, it felt like a dull, visceral tingle. He kind of...liked it.

It was around this point that Stephen realised he could hear voices in his head. The deep, shiver-inducing tones of the naga's words were joined by a swirl of noise around his brain. They were men's voices, crooning, chanting in some unknown language. The hair on his body was going pale, fading from black to a lighter brown as his head swam. He could feel the sweat clinging to his skin, now hidden under a thick furry coating. The voices were changing slowly, their song beginning to harmonise. His heartbeat was a deep, resounding thump-thump-thump, keeping the time as the singers' pitch shifted. With each octave they climbed, the helpless human started to recognise the song. He knew the words, as clearly as if he had written them himself. The voices were women and girls now, with the naga's chanting providing a bassy thrum.

"Grow", they sang. "Drink, grow and change. Drink, grow, change, become, unite. Become beast. Drink, change and remain. For all time."

As the mantra coursed through his head, it was as if the song was carried down on his veins and arteries, a surge of invisible force through his body from head to arms to legs to toes to tail. Tail? Well, of course there was a tail. Short and stubby, but the bones were stretching out from the base of his spine. It would have been enough to make him grimace and cry out if that wonderful music wasn't echoing around his skull. His skull: that was changing, too. Slowly, steadily, his face was growing, stretching out. His nose was flattening, his jaw extending as the fur grew and thickened there too. His ears were migrating, too: he could feel every inch of movement, every moment of the bizarre transformation. Stephen - was he Stephen anymore? The name seemed silly now, quaint. It didn't describe what he was now, or what he was becoming. An animal, some kind of big, fuzzy, fat-Oh goodness, he was fat, now. His belly had pudged up into a round, cushy bloat, and his chest was swelling still. What had been amateur pecs were now thick, pillow-like breasts.

Hold on, he thought. Breasts? Wait, no, this isn't part of the deal. I'm not a girl! I like my junk right where it is! And yet at the same time, it made perfect sense. Grow and change. His hips were widening by the second, inch by inch, the bones creaking and stretching and thickening. By now it even felt good, a tingle of pleasure coursing through his body as each part changed and as cells and DNA reconfigured themselves. Stephen even had an erection: his short, thick penis sticking up into the warm night air.

Except it wasn't short anymore. In fact, it was bigger than he had ever seen it: the dark flesh was twitching gently, twice as thick as he remembered, and over half a foot long. It jutted out from the curly brown fuzz of the creature's crotch, the bare flesh glistening with sweat. It felt like his sack had grown too, a heaviness resting against his thick, shapely, inflated thighs. It felt good - better than good, it felt wonderful. With each passing second that cock throbbed, its shaft swelling near the base and fattening up. Preseed was drizzling from the tip as his growing breasts heaved.

A shudder coursed through Stephen's body as the thought hit him. He couldn't call himself a "he" now, and the voices agreed. "Drink, Change, Become Woman and Man both. Unite Woman and Man in One Body. Drink and Become Beast. Grow and Change." But he - she - couldn't call herself Stephen any more.

"Dai-ann'uh." The naga's voice rumbled out, accompanied by a deep hiss as his coils moved through the underbrush.

"Diana," she replied. Her voice was unrecognisable - higher and gentler than it had been, distinctly feminine. It felt right. It suited her. Diana.

Diana's cock was fattening up still, as were her breasts. They swelled out and spilled over, sagging with natural weight. Thick, dark nipples peeked out from the fur. She writhed as a sudden wave of pleasure rocked through her body, and heard herself let out an animal noise. A bleat.

"It is done," the Naga said. Diana knew his name was Rase lai, but she didn't know how. She didn't know how she understood him, either. It didn't seem to matter, either, especially when he leaned in, lowering his snout until it was inches from hers. "Now you are ready for the Congresssssssss."

The hiss made her heart skip a beat. Those blood-red eyes, those coils, Rase's hidden fangs - it triggered something in the back of her mind, a prey instinct. Diana was overcome with fear for a moment, and found the strength in her arms and legs to scrabble awkwardly to her fee-her hooves. The serpent cocked his head, letting out a hissing chuckle as Diana stumbled back, shakily finding her balance. For a second, the goat-woman thought she had a chance. She caught sight of a path through the trees and, acting on impulse, began to run...

Except, of course, she could not. The warm, leathery coils of Rase's body wrapped around her legs and around her stomach with an eerie sluggishness. He was in no hurry: once she stumbled over the first coil, Diana tripping into the grasp of the second. It was too easy for him, to stop his prey's escape before it even started.

"H-hey! Let go'a me!" Diana struggled and squirmed, trying to push at her captor's coils, to wriggle out of their grasp. The full implications of Rase's "congress" were starting to dawn on her, and it was all too much. To be changed like this, inside and out; to be kidnapped and isolated from...she let out a worried bleat as she realised she couldn't remember the names of her companions. It didn't help that the naga's eyes were fixed on hers, the blood-red glow smouldering and piercing into her head. Her head, that was filling with his voice again. Rase sounded deep and sultry and hissing and masculine and persuasive. Words she'd never known before were echoing around her brain in a kaleidoscope: foreign, alien words her mind translated into "congress", "beautiful", "fuck". "Fuck". Drink, change, grow and fuck. She shuddered as she tried to drown out the noise in her brain, but the bass of his voice seemed to resonate with the very flesh of her body. Every syllable made her shudder a little more; her struggles against his coils became weak and useless.

Fear welled up in what few parts of her mind Diana had left. Her newly golden eyes gazed unblinking into her captor's. Perhaps she could play along: pretend to be under his spell, wait for an opening, and try to ignore the thick tail-tip now stroking over her thick, curvaceous behind. It was warm and smooth, its prehensile curve pressing into the soft pudge of her newly excessive rump. Its tip curled into the deep, fuzzy gap between Diana's cheeks, and for a second she couldn't think of anything in the world other than grim anticipation of how uncomfortable it would be if he stuffed that thing into her-

Pain. There was a jolt of dull, bludgeoning pain as the naga sank his curved, inch-thick fangs into the goat's shoulder. Diana's muzzle hung open, too shocked to scream as Rase's fearsome jaws embedded themselves in her flesh. And then came the venom. It was the deep, wince-inducing feeling of something foreign spilling into her body, like some sadistic exaggeration of a flu shot. The pain was excruciating, but it only seemed to last for a few moments. It was followed by a shiver of pleasant heat through Diana's body, as every nerve ending tingled and warmed.

The spread of the venom was accompanied by a swirling, painless headache. Diana found that she didn't mind any more: Rase's voice was so soothing, so calm. His coils felt smooth and handsome and erotic as they shifted around her. Before she knew what was happening, the naga had released her from his jaws. She was still trapped of course, being carried by those heavy coils toward one of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Then Rase's arms were upon her, his hands stroking and tracing gentle patterns in her chocolate-brown fur. Confident fingertips swirled in spirals around her nipples before moving to take hold of her wrists. Ropes appeared from somewhere, thick and soft and wrapping around her wrists and forearms. She found herself lifted up, arms bound to a thick branch above as the coils loosened around her waist and legs. More ropes appeared, and her legs were spread, her hooves knotted to protruding roots. She was spread-eagled, dangling, helpless.

The sun had started to rise. Warm morning light turned up the colour contrast around the pair, picking out the finer details of Rase's tattoos. Diana shivered as the venom worked through her body and mind. Her cock was aching, stiff and throbbing and damp with sweat and humidity. She couldn't escape, but why would she want to? Rase's words were so persuasive, his body so handsome. Briefly, she considered how bizarre her situation was: yesterday she was...he was...wait, was she a he before? She couldn't remember being anything else, or any names she might have had. She was Diana. She had always been Diana, and now she was fulfilling her purpose: Congress.

With the ropes firmly tied, Rase spoke up again. "Traditionssss dictate: I musssst be firm," he said, moving one hand down his chest and belly. Diana followed it with her eyes, and was soon staring at a pair of penises. She vaguely remembered reading something about snakes and other reptiles being dually endowed, but never imagined anything like this. Rase's cocks were each longer than her own, a deep, fleshy pink in colour. They were also adorned with fat, swollen knots near the base, which forced them to splay out in a natural V-shape. The scent was intoxicating.

"Iffff I ssshould ssstray, and cause you dissscomfort," Rase continued, stroking pensively over his members with a fingertip. "Then you have only to sssspeak one word, and I ssshall relent."

Diana was about to respond when his voice echoed around her head again, with a single word: "Mangoes." A safe-word. A trigger, implanted into her living psyche, indelibly. Her master was showing his mercy; showing his love. "I understand," she said, nodding slowly. And then he lowered his flat serpentine head, his eyes burning still as he nestled his snout down between her thighs. There was a hiss that made Diana shiver, and then the flicker of his forked tongue between her thighs, up under her heavy testicles. He was tasting her. The flickering warmth teased over her perineum and settled on the tight, sweaty dimple of her anus. Oh fuck, he was tasting her ass. He was licking slowly, his snout nestled up against it, breathing in her scent. As Rase indulged himself, Diana squirmed against her bonds, wanting nothing more than to reach her aching, twitching cock.

Soon, Diana felt the tip of the serpent's tail wrapping its way up her left leg. The muscular coils gripped playfully at the plump meat of her thigh as they corkscrewed upward, until Rase's flickering tongue was joined by his tail. The tip was teasing over her ass, prodding at the drool- and sweat-slicked hole. And then, abruptly, it was inside her. Diana let out a shocked bleat as her wet pucker was spread around the naga's tail. It was something she had never felt before, a visceral muscular ache. A stretching feeling coupled with the knowledge that part of Rase's body was alive inside her - it was strange and new, but it was wonderful! Diana found herself flexing muscles she didn't know she had. As that tail started to wriggle deeper inside, it was loosening her up, gently.

She was wriggling more now, arching her back against the bark of the tree. Rase lifted his head slowly, tracing his forked tongue over the swell of her balls. The air was thick with the scent of them now, a raunchy humidity clinging in droplets to her fur and his scales. Tortuously, the naga's tongue bypassed Diana's cock; his jaws opened partway to drag his fangs across her fat stomach. It was harmless, but the scratch of his teeth made her bleat loudly, clenching again around his tail. Every movement Rase made was driving her wild, evoking base, shameless pleasure. His hands were at her chest now, stroking and then cupping her heavy breasts. Each one was too big for a handful, but the naga squeezed them just the same, and Diana let out animalistic groans in response.

Her voice chorused with his, the serpent's words still echoing in her head. Any choice or dissent she might have had was eRased, silenced by the stirring tribal chorus. "Lust", they sang. "Lust and Heat. Every Touch is Lust and Heat." Diana was mouthing the words as Rase's tail violated her. It was already gaping her asshole, stretching it as wide as her wrist. The discomfort only added to the waves of pleasure, hypnotically and physically induced. Every grope of her breasts, every slithering squirm of his tail...it was overwhelming. And yet, somehow...

"More!" she cried out, and the chorus in her mind echoed her bleat.

The naga's hiss was the only reply, and with a wet noise that tail slipped back out of Diana's anus. His coiled body rippled before her, and his hands moved down from her breasts to rest on the curve of her wide, fertile hips. They gripped firmly as he flexed his torso, and those enormous cocks of his caught her eye once more as they slipped up under her sack. They pressed firmly between the goat's cheeks, spreading them with their sheer thickness and smearing musky sweat along the warm fur of her crack. Diana looked into Rase's eyes and saw the ruby glow intensify as his gaze locked on hers.

"There issss alwaysss more," he hissed, grinding his cocks against her rump. Hotdogging her, teasing, tormenting - barely an inch from her aching, still-gaped asshole. It was maddening. She groaned, wanting to beg, to plead for his meat inside her, but all she could do was repeat the new phase of the mantra in her head. "Congress. Congress. Congress." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"FUCK!" she bleated out loud as suddenly he was inside her ass. Two cocks, each fatter than his tail-tip, plunging inches into her rump without a moment's warning. It was astounding. Diana never thought her body could stretch like this, but she had never experienced a pleasure like this either. Rase rolled his hips and crammed himself into her deeper, penetrating her ass. It was too much. The noise in her head grew to a cacophony, forcing out any thoughts in her head but the pleasure of her naga. Diana was fulfilling her purpose: she was a goat, a male and female United in one body. She was beautiful, she was fat, she was sensual and writhing and bound. She was Rase's plaything, his lover and his thrall. This was what she was for.

Rase was bucking now, his muscular stomach pressing against her sack with each thrust. Twin serpent schlongs pumped in and out of Diana's aching hole, stretching it a little more each time. His fangs sank into her again, but this time there was no discomfort: merely the wonderful rush of pleasure into her body, overwhelming her senses, her body and mind. She shuddered in her bondage, colour and light and heat frothing in her mind's eye as finally, explosively, Diana reached orgasm. Her knotted brown cock twitched and spasmed as it erupted, squirting thick ropes of seed over her beloved's belly and chest. Her insides felt molten around Rase's dual members; her brain was a whirlpool of sex and heat.

There was a noise, loud and wet and fleshy, that echoed through the jungle air. It was accompanied by a great agonised groan from Diana's throat, and a shuddering hiss from the naga. His knots, two enormous bloated spheres of flesh, entered his thrall. They stretched Diana's anus beyond imagining, trapping his cocks inside her. She couldn't think or feel or say or taste or smell or hear anything but that: the fulfilment of their Congress, the Union of his body and hers. And as his seed spilled up inside her, erupting like a geyser of heat and fertility, there was only one thing left in Diana's mind. There was only one thing she knew.

She knew she would be his forever."
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