The Dance of Death

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The Dance of Death

Ella left the rehearsal frustrated and sweating. She hadn't been able to do precisely what they asked; it was just new and strange to her, and she had been nervous, scared and a little stiff (partly because she was both aroused... and mortified by her own arousal) and overall not her best. She decided at the end that she could use some extra time to work on the piece alone, with all of the equipment. Then tomorrow, she would come in an surprise everyone with how far she had come seemingly overnight. The night before she had snuck in and just stared for an hour, hands pressed against the tank, breath fogging the glass, but tonight, she had decided. She would do this for real. She stood eye to eye with the tank, gazing in at the magnificent serpent. A dancer by trade, this was her first performance with such a prop, and they'd told her to get comfortable. Acquainting herself with her new partner made her blush; it was like fumbling with a new lover in the dark, and she didn't want anyone else watching to turn the light on. No one had warned her not to do it alone.

She reached in with the tool she had seen the handler use, straining against the balance of the metal to heft the gargantuan beast. Once removed, she let it puddle around her feet, admiring the soft yellow skin and vicious predatory snout. The snake began to move almost immediately, encircling her delicate ankles. She laughed to herself.

"You like me too, huh?" she chuckled nervously as the snake continued its own lazy dance. It stretched up, around her calves, and she decided to let it continue. We should both be comfortable, she reasoned. He's only getting acquainted too. She almost enjoyed it, the delicious slide of smooth muscle against her own. The snake really did feel like a lover, starting to explore from her feet and working its way up.

She didn't begin to get nervous until about the upper thigh, but even then, she was distracted from her fear by her own torrid breathing. She reached down into her leotard, just above the snake's newly claimed domain, and felt her own wetness. She pushed a finger inside of herself delicately, moaning with a soft fervor. She wanted to fuck herself furiously, to push and push and rub against the snake until she came, but she was afraid it might think she was struggling and grip her tighter. She resisted, although she left her hand in place, slowly circling her clit just enough to feel it but (hopefully) not enough to frighten the snake. It continued to move up her body, slithering and squeezing her hips and forcing her hands tighter into herself. It slithered up and around her belly, muscle against muscle in the most orgasmic climb. She would never tell anyone, but this snake felt like hissing, slithering sex itself. She shuddered as its smooth length passed over her breasts, hardening her nipples and sending a fresh rush of warmth and liquid to where her hand slowly fidgeted beneath the serpentine mass.

When it was close enough to her face, she reached out her tongue to lick it, feel the smooth, phallic muscles ripple beneath her tongue. She continued to run her tongue along it and gently wiggle just the one finger beneath the folds of scales and bone. She thought she ought to stay stiller, so as not to frighten it or spur it on, but she couldn't help it. Her entire body was writhing as much as it could, her pussy straining towards her fingers as she came closer and closer.

"I could actually died like this," the thought briefly flashed through her mind, but the sexual animal in her had taken over, ignoring fear, and just as it reached her head, it seemed to look her in the eye as she came, shuddering and shaking like a leaf in the wind. "Oh god," she moaned, pressing her fingers against her throbbing clit; she hadn't come that hard in... Ever? Ordinarily she would have taken her fingers away after, but they seemed to be planted even more firmly in place as the snake gripped tighter. Oh god, it was gripping tighter! What if this thing crushed her?

There are worse things than to be crushed by sex itself, she thought, and as the snake gripped again ever tighter, her fingers were pushed back and slid and she couldn't help herself; she would use the last breath in her lungs to come again, violently, blissfully, feeling the smooth, cool muscles against her blazing, soaking pussy. She rubbed and rubbed and aaaaaah ahh- as the snake pushed the air from her lungs, her face relaxed, blissfully basking in the afterglow of a multiple orgasm session. She hung limp in the snake's muscular folds, dripping her wetness onto the floor as it opened its jaws. In went the head and torso, the hard nipples and delicate waist, the once writhing hips, the glistening evidence of her last moments. In went legs and both delicate dancer feet, and the snake seemed to swallow with relish, as if it enjoyed the taste of her just the way a man might. It slipped back into the tank, full and sleepy, dragging its overfull belly lazily behind it.

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