Image by “What is it you want?”
Snake eyes followed his every twitch as he flexed against his bonds.
“Shiftsss little rabbit. Ease your aches and pain from the cruel binding snare.”
A lithe tongue flicked out tasting the damp air.
“What do I want? Blood and salty meat to rot in my guts like pestilence.”
Iron scales writhed and changed as the snake reared up. Scales flowed, changing into corpse white flesh. Two heaving breasts burst from the wilting skin, nipples erect like fiery pips.
Its charnel breath hit him. Venomous fangs dripped ichor on his cheek. His tears flowed and he dared to look back into those slit eyes.
Her face was full like a plump apple, smile like a rotten wound. Strong hands grasped his biceps. He looked down. She pushed up against him, the soft yield of her flesh pulsed through him as pressure built. He felt iron coils constricting his legs.
She bit down hard on his neck.
Blood erupted.
She drank.
Thodor strode past groaning prisoners. Some screamed for mercy, others vomited blood. His robes whipped up a wall of silence.
He hated to hear the meat complain.
The Nāga reared up from its coils.
He held out a shining vial, empty but for the enchantment's light. She opened that wide smiling mouth and spurted a pellet of vomit into the vial.
“Plenty more where that came from master.”
The college would gain enough essence for a thousand potions this night.
The end.
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