Date: Tue, 23 Mar 2021 20:37:34 +0000 (UTC)
From: Abra Cadabra <abracadabra923@yahoo.com>
Subject: slither into ruin part 10

*** SLITHER INTO RUIN ***

*** Chapter 10 ***

*** Payback's a Snake ***


Once off the main road, Ken stopped the cart, blocking a sidewalk. There
were enough people around in the neighborhood that the boys had to be fast.

Marsh and Bryce were jerking their semi hard-ons to get erect after just
cumming. Marsh's black and white tank top and Bryce's torn, cum-drenched
one hung down the sweaty hunks to cover their crotches but already some
pedestrians were stopping at a respectful distance to stare.

Overstimulated, with aching balls and his guts on fire, Marsh took the
driver's seat.

Bryce had trouble getting off the luggage platform, his glistening legs
trembling and unstable.

"Holy fuck, dude, I can't *walk*." He was still breathing heavy. "It's so
bad, so *so* bad, you have no idea. It's burning all the way down to my
knees and up to my nipples from inside. You... you can't imagine the
Basilisk."

"Man, don't be a pussy," Ken said, his fidgeting fingers betraying his calm
tone. "It's only some sauce up your asshole."

Bryce finally stabilized his legs, holding onto the cart's side. "Then I
gotta be like fifty percent asshole."

"Hehe, more like a hundr-"

"Fuck off, cunt ass bitch," Bryce said, flipped Ken off and punched him in
the chest. "I mean it. I'm dying here."

Ken swallowed hard, his dragon tattoo tightly wound around his shining,
musclebound body. His seven inches were hardening in the silver thong,
gripped by the serpent like his neck would be any second.

He took the Split-Tongue snapback Bryce had dropped and put it on to
obscure his face. Their audience of a dozen locals and shop-goers was
closing in.

"Where to?" Marsh asked, starting the engine. He slapped his thighs.

Ken helped Bryce in the passenger seat, spanking the slow-moving blond's
ass. "Keep going down Sycamore. Left at the auto salvage and we're crossing
the highw- urgg!"

Ken clutched his neck. He grimaced and nut-tapped himself through the
thong, attacking his balls from the side a few times. His legs shook as the
ache traveled out from his crotch.

"...just... go... already..."

Ken hopped onto Bryce's lap.

Marsh had trouble controlling the cart but found his footing quickly. With
the relative lack of traffic, they raced as fast as their simplistic
vehicle allowed.

He discarded the tank top, too hot and sweaty for clothes. He threw it to
the back with his gold thong, where it was joined by everything else they
wore besides shoes.

Three sparling hunks in the nude on a stolen cart. The shortest with a
snapback over his face.

Ken was standing up to let Bryce get a condom ready. He was filming himself
to keep the serpent at bay, twerking and flipping off the shocked
Ophion-ites lucky enough to be in the area.

Marsh was slowly jerking off to keep himself hard. He reached up and gave
Ken's nuts a ramming tap.

The buff gymnast exhaled sharply, then inhaled quickly to make use of the
cleared throat and shouted "Woooooo-hooooo" at the road ahead. He twerked
his ass into Bryce's face and got slaps in return.

"Basilisk ready, dude."

Ken looked at the camera with a panic-infused grin and mouthed `here goes
nothing'. He spanked his balls a few more times and lowered his ass.

Bryce took over the camera as the new bottom slipped onto the
rubber-covered five inches.

Ken's grin froze and his eyes widened with terror. "N-no... No! This can't
be real. This can't be real, man, fuck fuck fffffuuuuck fuuuuhhhhhh..."

He tried to stand up but Bryce grabbed the shorter boy's hips and made him
fuck.

"That's the Basilisk, dude. I'm sorry."

Ken was desperately drumming his thighs and chest, flexing with his face
stuck in a permanent silent scream. He was covered in rivers of sweat that
only increased.

"Ugh," Marsh made. "I keep going soft. I can't focus on driving and
jerking."

"I'm not touching your dick, dude," Bryce made.

"I don't think Ken's gonna do it... uh, Kenny?"

"Oh shit," Bryce said and caught Ken who was falling to the side. "He
passed the fuck out."

"N-no," Ken said, weakly, fighting himself upright. "Just lost control for
a sec. It hurts unreal."

He sounded whiney, almost cutesy, now hopping voluntarily on the swimmer's
hip. "It's so... intense uh uh... I can't handle my ass uh uh... it's like
a whole body... thing."

"Thing?" Bryce asked, breathing heavy.

"Fuck," Ken said, making it sound like a squeal. "Like that nut-gasm shit,
but more. I dunno, I'm spice-gasming or something. Uh uh keep going,
but... uh uh fuck it hurts so so so much..."

Ken's eyes rolled back into his head and he mumbled in his parent's
language what could have been a long curse as easily as a prayer.

"I'm so close," Bryce panted.

Marsh slowed down to focus on his semi erection and grabbed a condom from
the backpack between their feet.

Bryce was orgasming, his expression more pain from overstimulation than
pleasure by this point.

"Almost there," Marsh said, eyes on the `Otto's All Auto Salvage' sign.

Ken made gargling noises. He had turned off the livestream and was getting
choked by the snake even though he was still on Bryce's dick. It wasn't
enough.

"Bruh, take over the wheel," Marsh said and stopped in the middle of the
road.

Bryce scooted over to drive, while Ken leaned over the passenger seat's
backrest. The gymnast looked backward, his ass facing the front. Marsh bend
the boy over, pushing the ripped legs apart to allow himself a more
powerful stance, one knee on the seat.

He drizzled Basilisk on the condom and lined it up with the pulsing hole.

"Basilisk ready aaand action."

He grabbed Ken's neck before the stream started the give the deep red face
a plausible explanation. He moved the hand to Ken's shoulder as he started
humping.

"Uuuuuhhgrng," Ken made, air returning to his lungs. "I hate the Basilisk
so much uh uh uh..."

"Where now?" Bryce said, his softening dick gleaming with lube as much as
with sweat between his legs.

"Summerhill uh uh," Ken shouted, his face turned away from the front as he
got railed. "Then keep going."

Ken whimpered, his already tense muscles tightening further.

Marsh slapped his ass. "You cumming or something, bitch?"

"Fuck you. No, it just hurts like a brotherfucker. I'm uhhggng."

Marsh chuckled. "You *are* cumming from anal."

"Uh uh m-maybe a little. Fuck, it's so intense."

"Feels good? Hehe."

Ken twisted his back just to flash an incredulous glare. "No dickhead, it
hurts uh uh uh. It's just *intense*. Wait, I'm done."

Ken was looking at his abs where the snake must have been hiding from the
camera.

Marsh turned off the livestream, lowered the selfie-stick and grabbed onto
the bottom's hip with both hands. "I'm so close."

"Oh fuck no!" Ken said and shoved the bodybuilder away with weak, trembling
arms. "I said stop. I'm not letting you fucking ass-rape me with the
*Basilisk*."

Marsh spread his arms in defeat. "So you'd let me ass-rape you otherwise?"

"Suck my dick."

"Suck mine first."

"Hold on," Bryce shouted and the cart lurched.

They crossed over the highway, trucks whizzing underneath them. Marsh
pulled the condom off with a disposable glove and threw both off the
bridge.

Ken turned around to sit, then shot back up. "Fuck, I can't sit, man. I'm
gonna be in the back." He climbed over the seat.

Marsh dropped into the seat instead as they zoomed past Summerhill Park and
the picturesque suburb beyond it. Shrub land came into view, underscored by
the densely forested side of the White Springs Ridge in the distance.

A sign ahead said `Eden Wildlife Sanctuary'. Their struggle was almost
over. In just a moment, this nightmare was going to end. Maybe things would
be alright.

"Marsh," Ken said. "You're getting snaked. Come here and bring that bag."

"Fuck," Marsh said, threw their backpack onto the luggage area and climbed
after it.

"Guys, we're going off-road," Bryce said.

"Just keep going," Ken said. "It's straight land inward."

"Gotcha, dude."

Marsh could see the serpent advancing up his chest, wrapped around him in
complex loops. He stood on the suitcase platform, hand on the backrests,
looking forward, legs apart, ass out.

The pressure on his throat was sudden. Ken kicked him in the balls from
behind. It barely helped. Blood rushed past his eardrums as his lungs began
to burn.

Ken held his Kaizen HQ forward on the selfie-stick. "Oof, I can barely
stand. Bryce, you're gonna have to do the filming. I have to hold onto
something. Man, I can't even get up."

As they hit a dirt road the slowed down, the bodybuilder got pulled back
and sank to his knees, his ass in Ken's lap in the center of the platform
as it vibrated on the gravel.

The driver found his camera aim – Marsh's panicking face – while Ken
prepared.

"Here we go, big boy," the gymnast said, sounding way too eager. "The
Basilisk's revenge."

Marsh was fully hard from the snake grasping his package at the front
whenever Bryce aimed too high. He felt Ken's hands on his hips, making sure
he wouldn't pull away.

Marsh had never been less eager to get fucked, which was crazy to think
considering he had never thought he'd ride a dick in his life. The spicy
pain in his abdomen had faded to a light heat he could almost ignore. He
had gotten used to the hot sauce fucks. Maybe this one wasn't going to be
so bad.

Drumming his nuts to get half a breath in, he closed his eyes. The sunlight
falling through evergreens left and right made his vision flicker
regardless.

He had turned his ear pods off while driving, now he was blasting his most
brutal speedcore playlist – matching his heartbeat.

The first thrust of Ken's seven inches made so much pain seep into his
hole, it felt like had never even been fucked before. The hot sauces so far
did not just pale in comparison, they were erased from history.

There was only the Basilisk – the most intense sensation Marsh had ever
felt.

It wasn't even a burn or anything so descriptive. It defied
imagination. Simply his hole getting a connection straight to the deepest
pit of hell.

Marsh felt like screaming but only a pathetic squeak came from his wide
open mouth. He should have wanted to pull away but his body wasn't
reacting.

"Uh uh uh," Ken made. "How's that, cocksucker?"

It was in a way fascinating. The pain had a new quality to it – a
certain meanness in how it got thrust into Marsh's core.

He finally found his voice again.

Eyes wide open, Marsh hit `most muscular' then rammed his fists into the
platform. "Fffuaaark, I'm... uh uh I can't uh uh... fucking shit fuck fuck
uh uh..."

"Yeah, how's that?" Ken said, breathing deeply as he rolled his hips into
Marsh's ass. "Hehe, `Feel good?'" he mocked. "Having fun, asshole?"

Marsh wanted to retort but his mind couldn't form words beyond
`fuck'. Somehow the worst sensation ever was still getting worse, spreading
into his legs and torso, stealing his strength.

Starting at his asshole, more and more areas of his body were getting
numb. No, that wasn't right. He could feel them like never before, more
aware of every fiber than after a targeted training routine. They just
weren't *his* anymore. They belonged to the Basilisk.

Marsh had a strange suspicion he wasn't just getting fucked by Ken but by
the serpent. Were shifting tattoos lining the insides of his guts?

"Hey you dicklovers, this might be trouble ahead," Bryce said.

Through teary eyes Marsh saw a truck blocking the road with a construction
crew off to the side erecting a radio tower or something. Were those...

"Ung," Marsh gasped. "*My guys* uh uh uh..."

"Your guys?"

"I work for that company. Shit uh uh... can't see me."

Ken put the snapback over Marsh's face and kept humping. The serpent used
the obstruction to encircle the bodybuilder's neck again.

"Gonna go around, slowly," Bryce announced.

The cart decelerated to a crawl and rounded the front of the truck over
roots and dirt.

Ken sighed. "I'm gonna cum... any second..."

"Holy shit," someone shouted, not even 300 feet away. "Jake, look at that,
hahaha. Pedro, mira alli, hwaaahahaha."

Some Spanish chatter and more laughter.

Marsh needed to breathe. His music sounded as if played through water. His
ears were ready to burst and his lungs ready to collapse. He nodded to get
the hat off.

He kept his eyes closed. He didn't want them to know. Not like this.

"Marsh!? Is that Marsh?"

"Haha. He looks a bit like him, Jake. ...Mierda! Marsh?"

The cart lurched, getting stuck on gravel. The wheels spun in place.

The utter intensity of the Basilisk burst into the bodybuilder like a slow
motion big bang. It was, on every level, too much. And it unloaded in the
only sensation that was remotely similar – an orgasm.

Trembling as if under electricity, Marsh opened his eyes, falling back into
Ken's chest. His achingly hard and at the same time numb dick squirted out
a long string of cum that splashed across his abs and a few more drops,
running down the shaft.

Briefly, he orgasmed with the full strength of the Basilisk-pain, both
pleasure and torture reaming him from the inside out.

Marsh growl-whined, every vein popping.

Curses in English and Spanish, hearty laughter and the steps of heavy work
boots came closer. He didn't dare turn his head.

Bryce slapped the cart in anger and let go of the pedal. "Dude, we're
stuck. We gotta run!"


***

Coming up: The Endgame