*** SLITHER INTO RUIN ***
*** Chapter 11 ***
*** Dreaming of Thunder ***
The cart was unsalvageable. The construction workers were closing in carefully. The Basilisk ruled Marsh's insides.
Ken pulled his dick out and pushed himself off Marsh's shoulders. Bryce was collecting their belongings and shoved them into Ken's arms.
"You carry our shit, dude. I'm gonna get snaked in a sec. Fuck."
Ken slapped Marsh's thighs hard but it barely registered through the tingling of the ultimate hot sauce rushing through Marsh's system. Just like his friends, he was coated in a sweat sheen, drops occasionally coalescing in the cuts of his muscles.
"Come on, man." Ken slapped the bodybuilder's legs again, even harder. "We gotta run."
Marsh slammed his fists down on the luggage platform to push himself to his knees, failed to rise and tried again with more strength. His construction buddies were standing at a short distance, he could tell from the edge of his vision even as he avoided looking their way.
He slipped onto the dry, rocky ground, his sneakers crunching. The cum-string on his popping abs flowed down his right thigh's fiber outlines.
The nude boys ran.
It felt like Marsh's lower body had been replaced with radiant Basilisk pain – half numb static, half searing burn. He was auto piloting someone else's legs that just happened to be attached to him.
All three of them jogged with a spice-swagger more exaggerated than ever before, hopping side to side as if jumping across stepping stones. If the construction crews' laughter was any indication it had to be a hilarious sight.
But his legs wouldn't fucking close. The pain was like a physical object lodged in his ass and tearing his whole existence apart.
Marsh wiped sweat from his brow, looking down. His dick was still ninety percent hard and slapped his hips with every jog-hop, adding to his overstimulation.
"Dude," Bryce said, whimpering. "Anyone else feeling high as a brotherfucking kite? What's in that sauce? Asian magic?"
"Fuck you, lightweight fuck," Ken said with heavy breaths. He was jogging with one hand on his semi-hard dick, the condom already discarded somewhere. "But yeah, we're getting high, I think. I dunno."
"I feel it, too," Marsh said. When he had started running it had been as if gravity was doubled with all the pain weighing his legs down. Now he felt like he could have floated away with a particularly big jump.
"This way," Ken said, glancing at his phone.
They left the tree-lined path for the gently hilly scrubland that was most of the Eden Sanctuary. Dry, dusty ground between clusters of impenetrable shrubbery made the hunks move in cautious serpentines. Hardly an ancient cypress tree interrupted the wilderness of calf-high foliage tickling their toned legs.
They had to slow down, walking with deliberation to avoid breaking an ankle on gravel or an unexpectedly dense scrub. Ken marched at the front, his broad back collecting sweat in the crack of his bouncy glutes.
"There's no cover," Bryce said, looking back at the tree-lined dirt road.
"No one's around, fuckface," Marsh said and slapped the swimmer's ass. "And the whole world has seen the goods."
Despite his words, Marsh grabbed the golden thong from the backpack and wore it – mostly to keep his semi-hard dick from swinging and slapping his thighs. Ken stayed proudly naked but had put the snapback on. Bryce was about to get targeted and stayed naked in preparation.
"How far?" the blond model asked.
The Asian gymnast shrugged without looking back, making his shoulder blades dance. "I can almost see the spot, but we're not making it there before it's your turn. Or mine. Anyway, smile!"
Ken took a selfie with the others in the background. Marsh flexed his chest subtly.
"Ugh," Bryce made. "I can't feel my ass, dude. And at the same time, I've never felt my ass like this."
"Hey..." Marsh said. "Do any of you assholes know why this snake fucker is mad at us? I've never fucking been here."
Ken twisted around. "Are you kidding me? Elementary school? Field trip?"
"Shit," Bryce said. "It's been that long? Dude, snakes hold grudges? Are you fucking kidding me?" He absentmindedly scratched his pubes. "What did we even do?"
Marsh rubbed the short hair on top of his head to jog his memory. He regretted it when his palm got even sweatier.
"Bruh, we snuck away from the group after pushing that one bitch into a mud puddle."
Ken chuckled. "That cunt fell face first, hehe."
"Hehehe," Bryce made. "I think she went to Altavista later. Pretty sure I fucked her after a competition in junior year."
"Really?" Marsh said. "Bruh, I only got a sloppy make out and blue balls from her. Bitch needs another mud shove, haha."
Ken slowed down, eyes on White Springs Ridge at the horizon. "Hmm, I feel like this whole place is familiar. Is this exactly where we snuck away to?"
"Might be actua- hgnnh!"
Bryce was choking, a serpent of ink elegantly draped across his torso. He spread his legs and leaned forward, his expression showing how much he'd rather be doing anything else.
"My turn," Marsh said, not sure if he should be eager. "No homo."
He opened the Clapper livestream to be greeted by an error message. "Uh-oh. Bruh, we don't have enough signal for streaming."
"I'll take pics," Ken said and handed over a condom. "Let's hope that's enough."
Bryce was keeping himself alive with nut-pummeling, giving the camera a forced smile as he left-right-ed his balls with quivering legs. The snake barely relented but his breath was sufficient for now. He only had to keep up the pain.
"On all our phones, Ken," Marsh said. "This is endgame. The snake's getting mean."
He switched his ear pods to rhythmic death metal beats, handed over his uPhone, and prepared a rubber-clad dick full of Basilisk. There was no reason to hold back so close to the finish line.
Entering Bryce's ass was easy by this point. Marsh fucked away gleefully, happy to have simple pleasure distracting him from the horror still radiating from his own hole into his thighs, abs and more weakly all the way from head to toes.
Bryce lightly convulsed, huffing as the sharp lightning of spice shot into him again.
Holding onto the bent over model with one hand and slapping his ass with the other, Marsh looked at the camera and noticed the dragon tattoo wrapped around Ken's stomach. He stopped humping.
"Bruh..."
Ken looked down on himself in surprise. "Fuuuck. It jumped early. Okay, here I go."
He folded the Split Tongue tank top in a grass-less spot and knelt on it, ass pointed at his friends. He lightly drummed his nuts as his breath grew more strained.
Marsh reapplied the devastating hot sauce and knelt behind the athlete while Bryce posted pics. The swimmer's legs were rooted in place and trembling. Was he still able to walk at all?
"Wait," Ken said, half turned. "That's bee- hghg" He rammed his fist into his crotch twice, biting his lip. "That's been inside Bryce."
"So?" Marsh said.
The bodybuilder held the bucking Ken down and pushed in, humping fast right from the first thrust.
Ken's reddened face was returning to its normal state, still sweaty and strained but no longer looking deathly.
"Dude, the fucker jumped again."
Marsh was looking at Ken's flawless, unmarked skin. The serpent had moved onto the bodybuilder.
Before Marsh could form a sentence, his airflow was cut. With his lightheadedness, his confusing mix of unprecedented pain and pleasure and the sex he was having at the moment, he felt like he was low-key orgasming already.
Bryce dropped to his knees and crawled toward the backpack, while Marsh reached under himself for nut-taps.
By this point he was so incredibly sore that even a light brush elicited more pain that a punch had at the beginning. He still had to properly tap to get air, even if that sucked all the strength out of him.
The bodybuilder convulse-fucked into Ken's ass to enjoy the only pleasure he could gain from the situation. Unable to hear the gymnast's protests through the music and blood rush, Marsh held Ken's head down with one hand, making the bottom struggle not to get his face rammed into the dirt.
The nut-ass-dick stimulation and spice-high turned into a focus beam of a million experiences in one - a whole body Basilisk-gasm. Not pleasure, just merciless, brain-stopping `sensation'.
Then Bryce shoved his own dick into Marsh's ass with force and the Basilisk came ramming from the asshole up the spine and slammed into Marsh's skull with pure fire.
The bodybuilder rolled his hips to the swimmer's humping, still fucking into Ken.
The gymnast struggled. "Ge- uh uh Get off me, asshole. I'm done uh uh. Marshall!"
Marsh held him down to keep fucking for as long as possible but Ken slipped away as the bodybuilder's strength faltered from the burn.
All three of their sweat slick, muscled bodies were trembling as Ken untangled himself, the condom torn from Marsh's dick and stuck in Ken's ass.
With Marsh now only bottoming, his body unloaded the impossible sensation again as the only similar thing it knew. Marsh was Basilisk-gasming from the ass. A low, simmering rumble of pleasure pulsing into his guts alongside the fire Bryce was hammering into him.
Then the blond pulled out, choking.
Ken was just freed the condom from his ass with care not to touch the spiced lube. "Oh man, it keeps jumping. We're never gonna make it like this. We have to, I dunno, walk-fuck."
"Walk-fuck?" Marsh asked, no longer targeted by the serpent. "Okay... I can lift one of you at a time, maybe. You can ride me on your turn and I'll carry- Fuck, Bryce is dying, you gotta get me a condom and-"
The ouroboros jumped again, letting Bryce breathe. The tall boy collapsed in the loose grass, heaving, one hand still pressing on his balls.
Now Ken was getting choked by his dragon. He spread his legs over the kneeling Marsh and the bodybuilder fist-punched the offered nuts as hard as he could from below.
"We gotta run, dude." Bryce rose on shaking legs, struggling to straighten his knees.
Marsh reached out for their phones but all three of the devices skidded across the ground, away from him. Around his outstretched arm was an intricate snake tattoo. He was marked again.
"Ken, take the-" Marsh got choked hard, not only with pressure cutting off his breath but as if a long object were now wrapped around his neck. The ouroboros was gaining physicality.
"I know where to go," Ken said. "Just get up."
The gymnast half-squatted and injected Basilisk straight up his ass. Bryce took the bottle and injected next. Marsh bent over and let Ken squeeze more sauce up his hole, too.
The pressure subsided as the burn intensified. The ass pain promised to become eternal, turning Marsh's midsection into an orgy of chaotic nebulous fire-static. He could have sworn there was a slithering quality to it as it spread into his limbs and took away all rational thinking ability.
Marsh tore his ear pods out as the music became pure noise to his raging mind. Somehow the world felt no quieter without them.
"Th-thanks," he gasped. Then the serpent was gone from him, reappearing on Bryce in its aquatic version as the model nut-drummed and jogged with legs far apart.
Ken was running ahead, clutching the protein powder bag, leaving everything else behind.
Marsh followed, feeling like his legs were far away somehow, giving his body orders through miles of flaming fog that the limbs only followed reluctantly.
Three nude hunks raced through tall grass, moving as if they were carrying massive buttplugs and constantly slapped their nuts.
The serpent was on Ken again. Then on Marsh. No, it was on all of them at once.
Fragments of the serpent's mark appeared and vanished with every blink, covering their skin in distorted slices of snakes without heads or tails.
Light choking was a constant, making running near impossible unless the ball pain was kept high. The weird nut-gasm from a while ago repeated, rising in Marsh's crotch as his balls contracted, the pain taking on a prolonged orgasm-like quality that kept him motivated to keep nut-spanking.
Despite the erotic thrill, something in Marsh was convinced he was going to die. The constant danger of asphyxiation made him see the end of his life approaching.
Some sappy part of him wanted to face death calmly standing in a circle with his best friends and accept the end with a tearful smile. Their semi-hardons took a lot of dignity from that image.
Some other part figured that maybe he deserved this.
In a moment of surplus air, he screamed out in rage.
"Fuck, we're gonna die for being total assholes. The snake is killing us cause we suck."
"Marsh dude," Bryce said, huffing. "I know I'm an asshole but I'd do it all over again."
"Same man," Ken added. "Brothers in assholery for life."
Marsh took as deep a breath as the serpent and the stressful race allowed. "I fucked your cousins, Bryce."
"What?!"
"I fucked both your uncle's little bitches separately at his mansion when you had me over for game night. I didn't-hgglhh."
Marsh had to slow down as the pressure on his throat increased and he refused to nut-slam again.
They three hunks were no longer jogging, too exhausted and hurting for more than a brisk walk.
"Dude, it's okay. If you had hot cousins I'd fuck them, too. And I... stole your family photo album."
"Bruh, I got in so much trouble for loosing that!"
"I know, that's what made it funny. I swear I still have it somewhere. Just let me- glhhhng."
While Bryce's hand hovered over his balls, Ken looked back at the bodybuilder. "Marsh? When we went camping I pissed on your pillow. To be fair I was mad after-jglhh."
Ken tapped his nuts harder and nearly collapsed from the ball-pain but Marsh was already looking at Bryce.
"I'm the one who broke your handheld."
"I shoved instant noodles in your locker, dude. I know that ruined your textbooks. I felt kinda bad."
"Don't sweat it, bruh. I forgive you." He sighed. "Shit. This is the weirdest day, but I kinda... I'm a total exhibitionist so... I guess it worked out."
"Me too." Bryce said. "I love anal. Just, you know, with a chick instead. But... I messed around with a girl one and I guess I could take a strap on, haha, i-isn't that weird?"
"I..." Ken swallowed. "I'm bi. Messed around with some guys a few times."
"Dude, that's- hglhhhn."
"Yeah yeah, just call me a faggot."
"No," Bryce said. "I meant that's cool."
"So you like my dick?" Marsh asked. "Hehe, you've been craving sex with me?"
"Fuck no," Ken said. "I'm a top. Exclusively."
"Bruh, none of us are exclusively tops anymore. Hehe."
"Might as well suck a dick now," Bryce said. "Wait, does that mean you actually like sucking dick, Kennie?"
"Fuck you. I just don't care if it's a guy sucking mine. Are you offering, strap-on bottom?"
The three of them punched each other playfully until they ran out of air and had to resume torturing their unbearably sore balls. By now the whole area from Marsh's thighs to his mid-abs was a black hole crumbling into itself.
At last they were closing in on the goal.
In the middle of a spot with curiously long grass, recessed into a thicket under a crooked cypress tree, strangely hard to spot, was a totem.
Seven feet tall, the slightly leaning pole was decorated with carvings of elemental icons, serpents winding around it, interweaving on the way up. It looked old and was nearly indistinguishable from a dead tree unless one looked directly at it.
"Wow, I remember now," Marsh said. "We found that thing and- hnggg."
He pushed his last power into a ball-squeeze as his vision blurred. Fractured snakes danced across his glistening skin. He was no longer erect and felt pathetic.
"Dude, we used it for a pissing contest. Is that it? We literally pissed the snake off?"
"Here," Ken said. "An offering for the Thunder Serpent. And a big fuck you."
He swung the bag and made whey powder rain in a semi-circle while Marsh and Bryce flipped the totem off.
Thunder rumbled in a cloudless sky.
The pressure in Marsh's throat increased. Nut-tapping did nothing. His eardrums felt ready to burst. He grabbed the hands of his friends, knelt down and watched darkness fade into the edges of his vision.
The hunks sank to the ground, unmoving, unbreathing.
Is this the end?
Not yet. One chapter left to go.