'Juice' - by Amethystine, inspired by Mason / Mr. Mase [aka 'Shadow71693' on FA]

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DISCLAIMER/WARNING:

This story contains subjects of an especially strange and sexual nature. Do not read if you are under-aged or made uncomfortable by fetish material. Be prepared for M/M, M/M/M, M/M/M/M/M/M, etc. Lots of males on males! Also: Servicing your tribal brothers, being a good snakeboy, cocksucking, cum drinking, being the village's boytoy, some slight degradation, admiring the male serpentine form, learning new things all the time, being told what's what and what to do, orgasm denial, a variety of cocksnakes, growing without knowing, sexual TF dreams, kinky rituals, size/attribute transfer, CTF in flavours both partial and full, and devolution. (So, all-in-all, the usual weirdness written by Amethystine!) The author takes no responsibility for any offence or unease caused by the material found within, you have been warned.

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Chapter 1 – The First Morning

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A dream so strange.

Twisting, turning.

His body burning, in a fiery and passionate embrace, re-fashioned.

A life in a world beyond comprehension, so odd.

Until that touch, beautifully clawed.

Everything became so simple, now.

His mind, his body, his life, his priorities..

All reordered, refined, streamlined.

Just.. listen to that calming hissin'.

All he had to do was.. swallow.. and Follow.

And.. Obey.

Stay.

Play.

Sleep deep.

~

When a snake awakes, there is no opening of the eyes.

A serpent's eye is forever shut, but forever open. There is a single, circular, clear scale, affixed atop the eye, like a permanent goggle, sealing the opening, keeping it protected under an invisible barrier, utterly unseen, but vital.

When a snake sleeps, the brain simply ignores the feed of visual information until it needs it again, upon waking.

~

When the naga awoke, he was shocked by the brightness of the day, surprised into wakefulness. His brow furrowed, and a hand lifted to try to block the sun, as his formerly unfocused eyes adjusted to the light, black vertical slits tightening into nearly vanishing narrowness.

There was a soft gnawing sense that he should be able to do something very simple to stop the light from getting into his eyes, but.. he just couldn't quite.. remember.

He felt clumsy, jumbled, out of sorts, in body and mind.

Other questions filtered into his mind quickly, burying that nebulous itch about blocking the sun with something more convenient than a hand, or his tail, or any of his coils.

How long had he slept? Where was he? Was this his rudimentary hut? What was that cacophony of noise outside? Just.. nature? Birds and bugs and beasts.

His slitted eyes darted about, while he remained slumped into the disorderly pile of thick, muscular coils, which served as both mattress and blanket for his broad upper body. His loops were heaped in the centre of the circular room, scant palm fronds serving as the only thing between his bulk and the ground. There was no floor, just rough-hewn walls of what looked like thick strips of bark, or tree branches, snapped from trunks.

But, he found himself putting all of that aside, in favour of the retreating rapture that was his mysterious nocturnal misadventure.

His dream, so recently ended, loomed large in his head.

It had felt so real.

Even if the sweltering jungle outside was absolutely tangible and inescapably present in the form of the smell and sound and sight of it through the doorway only some meters away, there was a moment when this serpent's surroundings seemed like _they_ were the dream, feeling foreign, even if he clearly lived here.

The dream had shown him a whole other world, one he could not possibly imagine having conjured himself, as he felt so simple and pure of spirit and mind. He was just.. him (although he had very little sense of who he was, in this stupor of sleepiness, still clinging to his head). How had his mind come up with those strange little creatures?? They had been.. soft of skin and many of limb, and oddest of all: devoid of tails! How had he brought forth thoughts of their world, with such large, complex huts and strangely solid black rivers between them? Those shining pods that sailed atop the black rivers, in rows, within painted lines, in a dizzying variety of shapes and sizes - it was all beyond imagining, now that he was awake and in his right mind.

In the dream, he had moved himself through this world, and he was one of the weird little people, with the shape that was more like one of the beasts he would eat for dinner than his own elegant, elongated, serpentine body. He couldn't even imagine balancing on those two rear arms. Beasts ran around on four arms, normally, yes?

His dream had showed a boring life, going to a large hut and staring at a glowing rectangle for hours on end, tapping clawless little fingers on some strange surface with many soft pebbles he could press, and a smooth stone he slid around and tapped upon, as well. The soft stones made things happen in the glowing box, creating and changing innumerable, unintelligible symbols.

Even now, the memory of this nonsense was fading, it had gone by in a blur, before he had been moving to a more interesting and relatable area. When the sun went down, his dream-self had gone somewhere exciting, as if his wants had injected some levity into his strange, but dull dream.

There was a place with so many males, clustered together, with music and drinking and dancing. Even in this strange world, he recognized those things, of course. The search for companionship.

A smaller male had approached him - and this part, it stood out, as his recollection of the flight of fancy fell more and more apart as he mentally grasped for it. The smaller one had been so charming, so forthright, so commanding, so seductive. The smaller male's desire for his large body was beyond obvious, but it made him feel so very wanted.

Another trip through the strange dream landscape, and they were alone, and.. the dream finally began to make sense, he thought.

Our sleepy naga's ability to recall anything of the fanciful night-borne narrative was crumbling quicker and quicker.

All he could recall was how, suddenly, his diminutive companion had a proper body, a slinky shape. There had been some amount of shock, which seemed odd now, in retrospect. The revealed reptilian was the most regular thing about the whole weird situation, of course. Nevertheless, shock was overridden with interest, intrigue, sensual stimulation of soft skin by scaly touches.

His new friend was sublimely attractive, not just in the way that he looked, but in the way that he had spoken, the way that he moved, and the way that he seemed to hunger for the dreamer who observed him.

Before long, there were two snakes. A supremely tight, rippling, massaging and rousingly erotic embrace had helped to reshape his rear arm-limb-things - there had been a name for them, right? - into a much improved body and tail.

He couldn't remember any more.

Just.. just that he had truly enjoyed himself.

A pervasive feeling permeated his conception of the dream's ending, even if he had lost all specific detail, like so many grains of sand through his clutching fingers. As the recollection was ripped apart by his attempt to recall it, he could only remember hoping he would never wake up from the intensely intimate interlude.

~

Yet, here he was, awake.

Oh well, at least the dream had reminded him just how lovely it was to be a naga. He slithered around in his own coil-pile for a moment, easily and smoothly slinking himself into a more organized position than the twisted heap he had awoken in. Something about thinking he had been some other creature and then seeing a snakeman appear, to enchant him and to whisk him into such a state alongside his new lover.. it was a lovely thing, to recall that he was lucky to have born in this beautiful, scaly, green-and-brown-patterned perfection that he had been bestowed with, blessed with.

"Good morningggg, Sssmanooo~ Wake up, my beautiful, big, brainless brute," sang a familiar voice, as a much smaller serpentman slunk into the room from behind a simple, misshapen curtain, made of animal hide.

Smano realized he had seemingly forgotten his own name, as he couldn't recall having any sense of who he was, as he had lay there, grasping after his dream. His head ached slightly. Was he really so brainless? That other naga said it with such affection, though. Was he just teasing him?

And.. who was this newcomer, anyway?

Looking up, he recognized him from the dream, a tinge of discomfort sparking in his head, making him rub his smooth scaly skull and neck a little. "Oh, it's you! Good morning..!" again, he blanked at the name of his.. hut-mate? Friend? Lover? Brother? There was a certain similarity between their scale-patterns and colours.

"Yesss, it's me! Dasiek! Your best friend! Since we were hatchlingsss! You ssssilly thing. Here, have your morning juice, you always say it cures your morning headaches. Aren't I nice for always making it for you?"

Each thing Dasiek said seemed to fall into place as true, and right. He was silly, and they were best friends, and Dasiek was indeed nice, if prone to teasing the larger male, those quick catty quips coming close to condescension.

Smano nodded, and took the two cups from Dasiek's hands, sipping then gulping the sweet drink from one of them. A warm wave of relief rushed through his head as much as his throat, and a cooling calm wafted through the whole of him. The slight sense of stress and general unease washed away. Nothing was wrong, he was just where he should be. A soft fog of happiness settled throughout his body and mind as Dasiek beamed at him, idly eyeing the expansive coils of his sleepy friend.

"Thank you, Dasssiek, old friend, you're truly a life-sssaver," Smano hissed, as relaxation flooded his form. He hadn't realized he was so tense, but it was all behind him now. 

In front of him, the diminutive male raised his tailtip to touch it against the base of the second of the crudely-carved cups, the one that was still full. He was silently-but-not-so-subtly hinting that Smano should drink the other cupful too, using his tailtip to press the vessel nearer to the big naga's snout.

"You love my juice, don't you?" Dasiek asked, but it wasn't out of insecurity at all. Again, as much as he was asking Smano something, it felt like he was telling him. And, in searching his happily foggy mind, Smano found that.. yes! Yes, he LOVED Dasiek's juice, it was delicious, this melange of different fruit.

"Yesss, Dasssiek," Smano agreed, even as he began to drink the other half of his treat down. "Why two cups?" he asked, upon draining the second portion.

For a split-second, the clever, silver-tongued Dasiek seemed to be at a loss, staring blankly forward. The blankness was broken as a grin spread across the handsome snake-snout. "You're my big-big boy! You need two, you're always growing, growing~" he trailed off and slipped down and forward, gliding his gleaming, scaly body onto the much more massive male's upper back, twisting around to align their spines.

Dasiek perched his head atop Smano's own, rubbing the broad torso below him, covetously caressing the contours of thick muscle and the firm scales that coated them. "I love thisss body of yoursss, darling, and I want to sssee it getting better and better. Our special day is coming up, you know. I want you looking your best for the big event."

As he spoke, those appraising, sensual touches slithered down around Smano's chest, while Dasiek's long serpentine self flowed itself over and into the piled pythonic body belonging to his friend. Slender but strong loops mixed in with the much mightier, thicker twists of pure muscle.

"Our.. birthday?" Smano asked, pondering if they shared a birthday. Were they twins? They really did look alike. He felt so silly to have to ask, because clearly he had forgotten another important thing. What a big brainless brute he was, indeed! Dasiek's teasing was proving true.

"Close, my darling dummy." The words were tinged with a peculiar mixture of affection and contempt. "Our Rebirthday is coming soon. I can't wait to be with you forever. Well, for you to be with ME, forever."

Oh! So, a marriage of some kind. But of course. Yes. Yes. He remembered. He did! Really, he did. It was surfacing out of the fog of sleep now, it really was. He had been _best_ friends with Dasiek since childhood, it was only natural they would be getting married, now, as they came.. of age? It was something like that, he was sure. Little by little, memories of their life-long friendship and eventual budding romance came to the fore, in his head.

It was hard to think, though, because.. he was so much in love with Dasiek. (He must be! Yes? If they were soon to be wed!) Or rather, Smano was so much in love with how his partner caressed his body, with hands and coils and tail. Dasiek was a delicious, delirious distraction. As always. Surely this was how he always was, charming even while being demanding, or even.. a little demeaning.

But words were nothing in the face of such fabulous feelings, the physical aspect of Dasiek's love came through much louder than any snide snippy snakeman sneering, or jeering, but left Smano's heart cheering.

All that contact, from the lengthy bodies brushing blissfully together, to the tender touches and the sweet sibilance.. it brought Smano's arousal to a boil in mere moments. It was almost as if he wasn't used to having so much to touch, unaccustomed to a serpentine lover grasping and rasping around his voluminous constrictor-contours. Dasiek was cupping the powerful pectorals of the python he perched atop, palpating them to pleasure his pal as much as he was judging their size, cooing about how much he wanted Smano's body, praising his proportions.

Dasiek seemed like a little size queen, especially when he got Smano to rise up and flex, to show himself off.

The larger lug lifted up and was led from pose to pose by his commanding companion. It was clear that Dasiek lusted after Smano's mass, his strength, his well-sculpted musculature.

It could have felt demeaning, treated like meat, but Smano felt like a much-prized treasure, a thing to behold, a shimmering spectacle for his lover.

It felt so good to listen to Dasiek, to do as he said, never unsure of what to do, for his apparent natural listlessness and aimlessness was supplanted by the constant commands, and quick compliments, from his more compact coily cohort. Each piece of obedience resulted in a resounding and resonant reply that rebounded around and around in the mist-strewn mind of the massive male.

"Good boy!"

More and more, with each repetition of that phrase, he was enchanted by it, and hungered to hear it again, and again. Those words came with that beautiful, beaming, seductive smile from Dasiek, or with a lustful kiss to his lips, or cheek, or to his arms or chest or neck or pec - always upon various muscles. Or, the words came with a worshipful touch to his body, or a lingering lick from that long, amazing snake-tongue. Those two words meant he was doing well, doing exactly what his lover wanted, exciting him, proving his worth, his ability, his value.

Doing something, _anything_, to get Dasiek to say that to him again, it became an all-consuming need.

Speaking of need; Smano was also getting incredibly horny. It was a miracle that his maleness hadn't come crashing out of his cloaca yet.

Or.. malenesses?

There came a last, fleeting flash of vague memory from the dream; a vision of a massive fleshy 'V', veiny twin lengths right in front of his face.. his tongue winding around them, which was getting longer and forking before his eyes, while it spiralled around the spires, his maw expanding just to worship and drink of the dual dicks, nursing on them for what felt like ages, swallowing so much that it felt like he swelled in his lover's coily embrace.

Silly dream! It made even less sense now, now that he was so ensconced in other sensual serpentine matters.

A mental fogbank shifted and he recalled that he had hemipenes, himself. Of course he did, he was a big male naga. How could he have forgotten that? No, no, he hadn't forgotten, he knew. He'd always known. It just slipped his mind, how lovely his body was. Nagas were truly blessed above all creatures of the jungle. The most intelligent, with agile hands, and even two manhoods, while all other lowly furry things only had one, and those silly sacs, their packages so exposed and vulnerable.

In the present moment, Smano forgot he had ever been unsure about any of this, in the face of his raging arousal. His whole body thrummed with need, with want, with desire to do anything for Dasiek, as long as it would bring them both pleasure.

As if sensing this, Dasiek glided himself around Smano's sizable standing section, the tall figure spiral-encircled by the small one - their contrast once more on display with how easily Smano supported the weight of the climbing coils, curling and clasping around his upright portion. From where he ascended along Smano's spine, the smaller snake slunk his snout alongside that of his friend, whispering to him as his chest brushed over the wide shoulder-blade, and his hands massaged his lover's neck.

"You remember the ancient mateship rule, my beautiful brute? Neither of us are to expose our hemis for the whole week before our ceremony. We must, _must_ keep them locked up in our vents." A curve of coil softly stroked a certain spot upon Smano's smooth, streamlined underside. The very well-hidden vent, which appeared as if there was no opening there at all, just the vast field of glossy belly-plates utilized to grip the ground, for slithering.

There MUST have been something concealed within, though, as a whole-body wave of pleasure came cascading forth from that area, making Smano's snout spread open and his forked tongue loll out, loosing a long, low groan of greedy neediness.

"I know.. it'll be.. ~hard~ for you," Dasiek quipped, "..sssince you're such a sssublimely sensssual sso-and-sso, freely giving sssuch love to all your tribe-brothersss, ssso often. And the tradition of the week before our joining won't make it any easier, but.. well, we'll make it through. Our rebirth will be all the more marvellous after abiding by the rulesss. Alright?"

Almost automatically, the anaconda-ish Adonis acquiesced and affirmed with all alacrity: "Alright!"

Clearly, they had to save their love for one another, for that special day, their wedding, Smano pondered. No letting out their hemi-cocks, and therefore: no spilling their seed, all week. As difficult as that seemed, he was already looking forward to the intensity of that final night, a week's worth of backlog to bring to bear, with his lover - and much the same, coming from his partner, he had to assume. No, not assume. He knew it! It was a delightfully kinky part of their culture, and he loved it.

Briefly, Smano wondered if Dasiek had been arousing him so much on purpose, just to make it all the harder to keep his cocks under wraps and in their slit. Or, more likely, Dasiek was so in love with Smano, he couldn't help but do what he did. Yes, certainly, that had to be it. Or, the aim was for each of them to brew up as much arousal as they could, all week long, to forever further augment their wedding night.

Their Rebirth, as a mated pair.

Surely, that's what such a title for a ceremony had to mean.

~