The Story Part 3


Posted by anne snakelover on July 09, 2003 at 23:36:55:


Your name is Tabitha Conelly, and you have done something other people would consider very foolish.

You started out as a very poor child from a poor family, yet you had one, rather two, assets that most other young women did not have- you were naturally extremely over chesty. Almost frighteningly busty, you went to work at age eighteen as a nude dancer, using the money to pay for more body enhancing surgeries. Soon you were stripping at parties, and engaging in prostitution, pumping a large portion of the money you earned back into yourself in the form of more and more bust enhancing surgeries. Eventually you became so busty you could no longer dance- your balance was off and you found it difficult to walk standing straight up, and so you turned to other forms of money making- drug running, contract killing.

Somehow, you got turned onto the idea of knowledge as a way out. And so you entered the field of independent research. You are smart, Tabitha Connely, just a little fuzzy headed and bad at details and the big picture, from names and dollar figures to the actual projects themselves you were working on, and everything in between. And so you raised yourself up through the ranks of business and education, largely through fucking anyone and everything that moved. Men and women you bedded in your quest for the dollars, yes, and many a farm animal as well. You still keep a photograph of a bull named Binky in your bedroom, and you remember those sex sessions well. Anything warm and living between yourself and your prize eventually found it’s way into your bed, between your legs, and into your birth canal as often and as deep as humanly possible.

Then again, it wasn’t just living things that found themselves buried deep in your cunt- remember that time you crammed that concrete traffic cone into yourself so far your pelvic bones actually creaked in protest? Your gynecologist was amazed- he’d never seen anyone with concrete friction burns on the inside of their uterus before. You weren’t amazed though, just satisfied- you’d managed to fit it all inside yourself, and it was 2 feet tall and a foot across at the base.

So when you finally landed at the head of your project, you weren’t amazed then either- though fuzzy on what your goals might be, you generally achieved them when you finally figured out what they were. And, for lack of a better idea, though an idea that fascinated you for whatever bizarre reason that lurks deep in that jungle you call a mind, you came up with the Digestion Project. Find a volunteer to get eaten alive by a snake and describe the process of digestion from the inside. No one had ever done THAT before. The fact that no one had done it before because it was insane and the volunteer would die made no dent in your thinking. But the project was green lighted, though you had to fuck Professor Dawson hard and long enough to drain fully three gallons of cum from his overworked balls in a two week period to do it.

Your lab was based in California, beach bunny capital of the USA (second only to Florida), and you remember being astonished at the number of damned near naked twenty somethings that bounced on the beaches, all going to the local universities, all near brilliant, and 99% of them naturally busty enough they made your once 'fantastically natural' and now 'enhanced to several times their natural size' breasts seem flat and small in comparison. Were you jealous? of fucking course you were. Although you were only a few years their senior and kept yourself in wonderful shape through exercise and continual surgeries, they were young and fresh and nubile. Fucking cunts.

So when you asked for volunteers, you made sure they had to be young, just barely out of their teens. In great shape (oh, for the health of the snake, of course). Smart, Mensa material and able to prove it. Verbally skilled, tenacious, beautiful, able to fuck like minks (and you tried out every one of the nubile bitches yourself), and busty. Yes, bustier than yourself and not an ounce of silicon and they damned well better have tits bigger than yours because cunts with tits bigger than yours needed to be eaten by snakes oh yes they did.

And though you didn’t mean to, you always forgot to provide them with the masks they needed to stay alive after the snakes ate them. They were wonderful masks, with two tubes on them, one to bring in fresh air and the other to siphon out the old air. And a wireless microphone, so they could log what they were feeling as they felt it. And so you fed the snake the volunteers and they kept coming. Ten young bitches a day that snake ate, sucking them down like popcorn. The women never lived more than a foot or two down the snake throat, suffocating long before they reached the snake stomach and it digested them. They kept volunteering, until that fateful day when your snake had eaten almost 8,000 of the women alive in slightly under two years.

When Professor Dawson called you into his office and explained he was worried that this very expensive project of yours was sucking money from the budget and producing no results. That the snake had eaten almost eight thousand young women alive, and what was the point? You could hardly explain that maybe the reason for the project was that they had to be eaten because they had big tits. That wasn’t the actual reason at all. Was it?

So after the meeting, culmination in a feisty bout of anal sex so savage you feared Professor Dawson had not only crammed his cock and his balls up your ass, but maybe his hips, legs, and lower abdomen as well, you left to ponder your fate.

And that’s why, a week later, you fed yourself to your snake, after making damned sure your mask was on properly. And that’s why, Tabitha Connely, you did something other people would have considered foolish. Because now you have been deposited bodily into the stomach of the snake. You have passed through the snake’s stomach sphincter and your nude body is in the stomach of the snake. You, Tabitha Connely, have been eaten alive, and now you are going to be digested alive as you verbally speak your log.

You, Tabitha Connely, have seriously begun to believe you are an asshole.

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end part three
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anne