by Andreveos

Tags: #dom:female #f/nb #fantasy #no_sex_no_nudity #pov:bottom #sub:nb #coiling #consensual_kink #naga #resistance_play #snake #snarkiness

A naga seems very eager to try out something called “resistance play” with you. What’s the worst that could happen? Contains entirely SFW coiling with snake-tails, snark, and cuteness.

Bleeeech. This took way longer than it should have and I'm still not super hapy with it, but I hope you enjoy. As always, any feedback is enormously appreciated.

“Resistance play?” I frown at the unfamiliar phrase, leaning forward out of the natural alcove in the tangled branches of the banyan tree. My legs dangle forward, swinging far above the forest floor, but the height holds no fear for me – the dense rootlike structures below me will easily break my fall even if Simran’s razor-sharp reflexes aren’t quite quick enough to catch me.

She’s got that knowing, mischievous smile on her face again – lips tightly pursed as if holding herself back from breaking into a devilish grin, dark eyes wide with false innocence. When she speaks, it’s with the heady note of barely contained excitement. “You haven’t heard of it?”

I have to shake my head – the whole hypnosis thing is still somewhat new to me, which Simran seems to forget every so often. To her credit, though, her excitement when she gets to introduce a new technique or concept to me is infectious, and she definitely looks exuberant at the moment. “Can’t say I have, no,” I answer, giving an apologetic shrug. “Is it like… suggestions to resist doing something you want to do?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see coppery scales shifting around the innumerable vines and branches above me as Simran repositions herself, taking a moment to consider how best to explain. I take the opportunity to take another sip of the steaming cup of masala chai held between my hands. I can’t even remember how long we’ve had this tradition – every time I go to visit Simran in the banyan grove, I bring a flask of the woody, nutty beverage along to share between us. Over time, I’ve grown to associate that comforting warmth with her hypnotic talents, although I’m sure that she’s encouraged that association more than once during our sessions, helping me get in the mood for the next one. A cool breeze wafts through the dense cage of branches surrounding us, making me shiver and go in for another sip to warm myself back up again. It’s usually pleasantly warm in here, never too hot, never too cold; the sun only shines through the dense canopy above us with tiny, individual rivulets of light, and the tangled foliage usually offers a tight shelter from the wind. At times, the cavernous space within the grove feels like a grand hall, flanked by the mighty banyan roots – an excellent spot for the lair of a naga.

Well. “Lair” is a bit of a crude word. Despite it’s size and relative distance from human civilisation, Simran’s home has always felt strangely cozy. Not designed (if such a word really applies to an ostensibly natural structure) for humans, to be sure, but she never fails to offer a helpful loop of her seemingly never-ending tail whenever the gaps between the network of smooth branches lining the floor of this grand space are a little too wide to hop across. Wherever I look, I can always see some thick, bronzed length of her body wrapping around and in between the dull dun of the branches like a brilliant metallic rope weaving back and forth across a titanic loom of wood. I couldn’t begin to tell you where it ends or where it was going – at times, I wonder if Simran herself knows – but I can definitely tell you where it begins. The shining mosaic of scales slowly begin to shrink and drift apart, revealing smooth, dark olive skin as her snake lower body terminates in an almost human torso. The scales lose their brilliant lustre as they travel up her spine and spill over her shoulders, making a spiderweb of skin stretched between hard brown keratin, forming a pattern on her back almost like the head of a snake, seen from above.

She lifts up one particularly thick and muscular length of coil from the clearing floor to rest her elbows on as she steeples her fingers under her skin. “Well, you’re right, in a way,” she begins to explain, her tone slightly begrudging and contemplative. “If I had to boil it down to a sentence, resistance play is a slightly more advanced kind of challenge where instead of immediately following the hypnotist’s suggestions, the subject actively tries to resist going into trance.”

My brows furrow as I cock my head to the side in confusion. “Resist the suggestions?” I ask, perturbed. “Weren’t you the one that taught me that the best way to enjoy hypnosis is to actively go along with and focus on the suggestions of the ‘tist?”

Using her long, supple anchor, Simran rotates her whole torso to the side to match my tilted head, chuckling playfully as I roll my eyes. It always throws my head for a loop when I see her do that, so naturally she does it more than ever. “I seem to recall saying that that was one of the easiest ways to do it, not the best,” she teases gently. She coaxes out the tip of her tail from under her, a rare sight for me, to gently tap the tip of my nose, bringing a tinge of pink to my cheeks before she continues. “You’ve been doing this for some time now, I can tell how much easier it is for you now compared to when we started, I think you’re ready to try out something which might take a little more effort.”

I shrug, a little nervously, as I rock back and forth in the natural seat I have in this nest of branches. “Sure, it’s easier than it used to be, but I’d still hardly say I’m good at it. I still have some trouble sometimes.” My voice comes out a little more plaintive than I’d prefer, so I attempt a careless cough and another sip of tea to hide my slight apprehension.

“Oh, please,” she scoffs good-naturedly. It’s her turn to roll her dark eyes, playfully jabbing my nose with her tail tip again, earning a small giggle before she holds it up right in front of my face. “Going into trance is almost as easy as breathing at this point. True, you might feel a little confused at times, but I can see from the outside how much you enjoy it.” As she rumbles on, her voice seeming to echo slightly through the wide space, her tail tip begins to flick backwards and forwards across my vision, my eyes instinctively following the slow, steady movement. “Remember, trance doesn’t have to feel like much of anything at first. It’s just letting your mind focus on one thing, letting the outside world shrink away, not having to worry about it any more. You’re experienced enough now that you could probably go into trance just from watching my tail tip drift back… and forth. That’s an easy thing to focus on, right?”

She’s… not wrong, at all. Of all the different foci she’s tried, the tip of her tail is one of my favourites. I keep a focused eye on that glinted tip of bronze, almost like the tip of an arrow, drifting back and…

I blink, and the spell is broken. I swat her tail away from my face, fixing an indignant glare on her excessively innocent-looking smile. “Oi, no hypnosis during negotiation,” I reprimand her lightly. I may not have a tail to hold in her face, but I find an outstretched index finger works just fine. “That’s like, rule one of pre-talk, you taught me that.”

She winks at me, giving a deep chuckle which sends a slight ripple through the whole grove as it resonates down her lower body. “I know, I know,” she admits, not bothering to try to defend herself. “Point taken. I wasn’t going to do anything, just wanted to mess with you a little.”

“Yeah, yeah. You made your point, but you have loads of time to mess with me once we figure out what exactly it is we’re doing,” I riposte, rolling my eyes. “Honestly, you’d think a thousand-year-old naga would be a little more patient.” Although my tone is a little scornful, I wink at her to soften the barbed comment.

She folds her arms crossly, though try as she might she can’t quite hide the grin of insincerity poking through her affronted mask. “You know, there was a time when humans feared and respected my people,” she grumbles, desperately trying to suppress her amusement. “Are all humans of this age so impudent, or do you take pride in being particularly insufferable?”

I lean back into my alcove with a smug smirk. “Not sure I can speak for all of humanity, but you’d be surprised how many perks being insufferable has. And besides,” I continue, softening my tone and returning Simran’s nose poke, “you still show up whenever I come by, right? You must really like me mouthing off to you.”

As my finger retracts, I see the muscles in Simran’s tail bulge an instant before she surges forward, suddenly forcing me to look up at her as she closes me into my little nest with a hiss like the blowing of a typhoon in my ear. I blanch, feeling an electric tingle shoot up my spine – sometimes I forget just how much bigger, stronger and faster than me she is, how utterly and completely helpless I would be if she was genuinely angry with me. Even her human torso seems to tower over me, blocking out what little light reaches through the dense canopy above, the thick branches surrounding me forcing me to look right into her intense gaze. She only stays there for a moment, but it feels like she’s looming over me for ages, her glare boring straight through me as she closes me in, the sheer power of her presence making me freeze up. But she does retreat, carefully watching my expression and offering a warm smile to make sure I’m alright. “You’re very lucky I like you so much, you know.”

I can breathe again. I hadn’t even noticed my breath had stopped in my chest; my awareness of what my body was doing was momentarily halted by that sudden rush. I can feel my heart pounding, my mouth dry, although it’s not entirely due to fear – a crimson blush burns my blanched cheeks as butterfly-like tingles dance through my thighs and abdomen. “I, erm…” I cough, desperately trying to tear my eyes away from hers and retain some semblance of dignity. “You, er, you were explaining how resistance play works?”

She nods, relaxing back into a seat of her own coils. “Of course. The principle of resistance play is that, in a way, it’s a test of skill for both the hypnotist and the subject, which is part of why it requires a degree of experience on behalf of the subject. The subject has to resist their trained inclinations of going into trance while still engaging with the hypnotist, while the hypnotist, of course, has to try to be inventive in inducing a trance despite that resistance.”

I swallow, nodding to show my understanding despite my heart still thudding hard in my chest. “So… because I’m so used to hypnosis at this point, that means it’ll be harder to resist it even when I want to?”

Simran shrugs gently, a warm smile coming to her face. “In a way. If you truly don’t want to be tranced, then you can always simply ignore my words, but it’s not really resistance if you don’t engage in the first place, true? For resistance play, you have to engage and yet still resist going into trance, that’s the trick of it.”

My lips purse a little as I mull over the concept. When I try to take another sip of the tea, I find the cup empty – I must have spilt the remainder while Simran was looming over me. I set it beside me, my face lighting up suddenly as an idea pops into my head. “Hang on, you said this was a test where the object is to try to resist. But if I go into trance, I fail the test, right?” After seeing Simran nod, I continue on, not quite intending to cut her off, simply thinking out loud. “And… what do I get if I pass the test, successfully resist you?”

Simran blinks, seeming slightly confused. She rests her knuckles under her chin, still supporting her elbow with a length of coppery scales. Then, a confident smirk rises to her lips. “I suppose you get the satisfaction of beating me at my own game,” she replies with a slightly mocking, sing-song tone. “Nobody has ever successfully resisted me before, but I’d like to see you try, if you can.”

I raise an eyebrow, finding the courage in indignance to look her in the eye again. “That right? Lose, I get to enjoy a nice trance, win, I get all sorts of bragging rights.” I dare a cocky grin – I’m probably going to regret it shortly, but the possibility of another source of teasing ammunition is too good to pass up. “Sounds like a good deal to me. I look forward to breaking your winning streak.”

She can’t help but laugh out loud at my gall, tossing long, straight hair as she throws her head back for a moment. The sound is pure, clear and high pitched, like a peal of carillon bells ringing through the forest. Matching my confident smirk, she folds her arms, ‘standing’ (to the extent that someone with a massive snake tail for legs can stand) with one shoulder thrown forwards. “Careful, Icarus, you haven’t won yet. All I need to do is induce you, and you might find the prospect of falling into trance a bit too alluring to resist.”

I chortle at Simran’s self-assuredness, looking forward to pulling the rug out from under her once we begin. As I begin to steel myself for the game, another thought pops into my head, making my brows knit together again. “Hang on… how will you know whether I’m in trance or not? You said yourself that it doesn’t look like much from the outside, especially if it’s just a light trance.”

Simran’s eyes alight, that mischievous smirk rising to her face again as she draws my attention back to her tail tip with a slight flick. I raise an eyebrow, wondering where exactly she’s going with this. “If you can keep this from winding around you,” she explains, her purr oddly sounding more catlike than snakelike, “then you win. Most humans find it quite difficult to keep a firm grip on something so smooth and slippery while even slightly entranced.”

A wry smile comes to my cheeks, my eyebrow creeping higher and higher at Simran’s wording. She seems slightly confused at my flirtatious expression at first, but quickly figures it out, scoffing loudly. “Oh, do shut up,” she grumbles, threatening to swat me with her tail.

I lean back, chortling in a sing-song tone. “You were the one who said it!”

Another noise of derision, but I can spy a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, but you must have the most talkative eyebrows of any human I’ve ever known.”

Although I’m still very pleased with myself, my chuckles fade as I begin to consider Simran’s idea. “So… I keep hold of your tail, keep it from coiling around me, to show I’m still resisting? You’re gonna need to hold back at least a little, give me a fighting chance, I know how strong you are.”

She nods. “As you wish. Winning is more fun when it’s a bit of a challenge. Now then…” The tip of her tail drops from between us, laying on the side of the alcove just next to my hip. She rolls back her shoulders, taking a deep breath as she prepares herself. “We can start with just one loop around your hips, all you need to do is resist going into trance and letting the coils reach your neck. But as always, you still need to stay engaged, no wriggling around or trying to block me out. Ready?”

I match her movement, adjusting myself to make sure my seat in the alcove is comfortable. “Ready.”

As promised, she winds the tip of her shimmering scales round the edge of my little nest, pressing in around my waist, not hard enough to restrict movement at all, but just enough to feel. It’s almost as though I have a shining bronze belt. Once it’s gone around my back and come to rest on my lap, she stops, allowing me to grip her skin with both hands. She’s not wrong, those freshly-shed scales are quite difficult to get a good purchase on, but she doesn’t seem to mind the firm pressure since I’m not pinching at all. I look back up to her, matching her chestnut gaze.

“I hope you’re comfortable?” She asks, and I nod. “Excellent. Just to make sure, let’s do some breathing exercises, just to make sure we’re both nice and relaxed before we begin. Don’t worry, I’ll breathe with you, so you know exactly the rhythm to use. First, let’s empty our lungs completely…” Her long, slow exhale is almost hiss-like, and I match it easily. Breathing exercises seem a little overkill, I’ve already spent a while relaxing with my cup of tea, but I hardly mind. With the last wisp of air in her lungs, she whispers: “And breathe in again.” A steady inhale to match the exhale. I wonder vaguely whether I should look somewhere else, whether the focused eye contact might make her uncomfortable, but she did tell me to keep my focus on her, after all. “Not bad, but we can do better than that. It was only the first one, after all. Let’s breathe out completely… and breathe in again. There we are, that was already much better, well done. One more time, alright? Deep breath out…”

When I exhale, I do it just enough that I don’t strain my lungs but I can still match her pace. As I do so, I can feel a slight force against my hands – she must be starting to try and move her tail up. The force is so gentle, though, that it’s quite easy to pull the tip gently back into place on my lap, like the tugging of a guppy on the line. I can keep my eyes locked on hers while being able to keep my hands still and follow her words. This is pretty easy so far, although I’m still wary – it’s probably going to become more difficult once she actually starts hypnotising me. Still, I don’t mind the breathing exercises, they’re a nice way to get us both in the right mindset.

“… and breathe in again. Very good, you’re building up an excellent rhythm. Once again, breathe out… and breathe in. And you can continue in that easy, slow rhythm. This speed’s comfortable, right? Breathe out… and breathe in.” I nod, she smiles gently. “Excellent. Now this time when you exhale, I want you to feel any niggling doubts, any little tensions in your mind or body, moving out of you as you breathe out…” She begins to follow me, but she interrupts her own exhale to whisper more words. “And then when you inhale, feel that wave of calm relaxation radiating out from your lungs as you breathe in… good. You’re a natural at this. Breathe out your frustration… and breathe in calm. Breathe out your doubt… and breathe in peace. Breathe out your tension… and breathe in relaxation. Out… tension… in… relaxation… and out… and in again…”

I allow myself to nestle back into the ‘walls’ of branches around me, rolling my shoulders back, still keeping that grip on her tail in my lap. The breathing exercises certainly work, I can’t deny how relaxing they can be, but I have to wonder when the actual hypnosis is going to start. When she said ‘resistance challenge’, I had anticipated something a little more… well, challenging. The consistent waves of relaxation spreading along my body with every breath in… are nice and all, and I do find that the little bits of tightness around my joints are loosening a little with each breath out… but I’m not feeling that familiar tug in the back of my consciousness pulling me into trance, even though Simran has slipped into that smooth, almost lyrical tone she usually uses during our sessions. Maybe it’s because I’m not actively trying to follow along like I usually do? I suppose I could try to help her along a little, maybe if I tried to –

Wait. No. Resistance challenge. Not going into trance is the point of this… trance. Still not 100% sure how that’s supposed to work, but Simran seems sure of it. I shake my shoulders a little with the next breath in…

“… loosening up the last bits of tension in your shoulders… upper arms… forearms… hands… very good. You’ve built up a nice, consistent rhythm now. Out… and in. And you can just keep on breathing like that, feeling those little waves of calm moving back… and forth… out… and in… with that rhythm. You don’t need to focus on your breathing anymore, it just feels natural to allow yourself to continue breathing, and staring, and listening. That’s it. You don’t have to force them, you don’t have to… do much of anything, really. Just sit back… relax… bask in the waves of relaxation, like the tide rolling back… and forth… on the seashore. Making sure you’re focused on my words, on my voice, on my eyes, leading you back… and forth… as you get ready to begin the resistance challenge. There we go. Almost ready now, almost ready for me to hypnotise you.”

At some point, she started weaving her torso back… and forth… supported by her tail, in time with my breaths. At first, the movement was so small as to be imperceptible, I hardly had to adjust my gaze to keep my eyes on hers. But with every rock… back… and forth… her swaying gets just a little bit wider… and wider… drawing my eyes back… and forth… but it’s still easy to follow. Now that I’m calm and comfortable, my vision tunnels a little, ignoring the dappled green and brown backdrop of the grove behind her, focusing instead on those deep brown orbs, rocking back… and forth… in front of me.

“That’s comfortable, isn’t it? I can see how much your shoulders have relaxed since we started, how much smoother each little movement of your eyes… back… and forth… feels… to sway… back… and forth… and we’re nearly ready to begin. You’re almost relaxed… calm… drifty enough… back… and forth… for me to begin the hypnosis. I know, you’re eager for me to start. Eager to start to fall… drift… up… and down… back… and forth… into trance. But not quite yet. You want it, I know. That feeling of complete and total relaxation, not just in your body, but your mind as well. Slowly slipping… back… and forth… into blankness. At least, that’s what you want – isn’t it? Or do you want to try to resist? This is a resistance challenge, after all, a test, of sorts, of your ability to resist that pull into delicious mindlessness. But not yet. After all, you can only resist hypnosis if somebody is trying to hypnotise you, and I haven’t even started trancing you yet… have I?”

No need to remind me of that. I notice I’m not… impatient, exactly, merely eager to get things started. My competitive appetite is riling up, longing to be sated. It’s taking up much of my attention at the moment, that yearning to begin the trance – no, to begin resisting trance. Gotta keep that straight in my head. Stop myself from being drawn back… and forth… and keep that tight grip on the tail still squirming ever so slightly. Near the tip, Simran’s scales are so small, so smooth, I can barely feel my skin gliding over them with every adjustment. I idly wonder if I would even be able to feel it if she did start slipping through my –

A quick glance down to my lap shocks me back to my senses. My hands are still in my lap, but they’re now only loosely gripping scales, not even close to the tip. She’s managed, sneakily, slowly, to worm her way up to wrap another two coils around my midriff, now just covering my navel. She’s kept the binding just loose enough that I can’t really feel it. How… how had I not noticed that? I blink several times in succession, only now realising that my eyelids had drifted half shut. My limbs feel so relaxed they’re almost leaden, forcing me to shake them back awake before I can latch back onto the interlocking mosaic winding around my abdomen.

As I scramble to reassert my consciousness, I feel Simran’s hissing chuckle more than I hear it. Her coils suddenly cinch inwards, squeezing around my waist, the sudden pressure forcing a gasp from my chest. The heady vibrations transfer straight from her scales to my body, sending jolt after jolt of tingling down my legs and up my spine. Her force is no greater than a hug, but I still feel utterly rooted in place. I try to bend, flexing my abdominal muscles, but those cool, smooth scales thwart any attempt at movement – in fact, each little squirm allows her space to inch in a little more, squeezing tighter and tighter. I force myself to look away from the coppery band over my stomach, but the only other place to look that makes sense is her eyes.

“Seems like that feeling of trance was just a little bit too good to resist, hm? That warm, drifting feeling, slowly numbing your mind, bit by bit… it’s a valiant effort to try to resist, but I think we both know how this game is going to end. You can feel it now, can’t you? That pull in the back of your brain, pulling back… and forth… up… and down… reminding you of how good it feels to fall. It’s almost as though the more my coils wind up your body, they wrap up more and more of your mind as well. And the more wrapped up your mind is, the stronger I can pull you down into that wonderful blankness. But of course, you don’t want to go deeply, blissfully blank, falling into delicious incoherence, do you? You want to resist, but it’s so hard, isn’t it? To keep your head straight while my coil winds and winds around you, loop… after loop… after loop… my tail tugging your mind down. You can try to resist if you want, but deep down, you know you don’t really want to, do you? Not that you could if you did, of course. My tail is too strong, too long, too easy to wrap you up and drag you down. Winding, binding, grinding against your skin, against your resistance. So smooth, so beautiful, so utterly entrancing. It’s okay. You can allow yourself to feel that pull, drawing you closer and closer, tighter and tighter around you. It’s just like being hugged, right? That warm, delicious pressure around your body, around your mind, sque-e-e-ezing out any thoughts you might try to have. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just allow that warmth to envelop you? To allow yourself to drift, slowly, back, forth, up, down, deeper into my embrace.”

“I-I…” The noise I make is not entirely voluntary. I hadn’t even noticed how much I was getting drawn into her embrace, falling down into that deli- no. No, I… I need to resist. Think about something else, something other than the tail beginning to worm through my grip again, wrapping, binding, winding, making it so… argh! No. I’m not going to fall that easily. Each breath suddenly feels like a chore, trying to make sure I don’t slip into those even, slow, shallow rhythms again. Focus on the breathing, keep it deep, keep it under control. I’m trying to tense my muscles in a desperate attempt to stop them from slackening, stop that pull in the back of my mind from dragging me down. It’s as if she’s laid her tail on top of my very brain, pulling my head down, forcing my thoughts to slow. I just need to… think thoughts, any thoughts. Keep my mind churning. I can still focus on her and keep my mind awake. I can think about… about… um… something simple, something to keep my mind rolling.

“Aww, you’re trying so hard! I can see your struggle, trying to force your head to stay up, forcing your eyes open every time they’re about to drift shut. Trying to ignore the weight, that warm, comfortable weight pulling you down…”

Two times seven is fourteen. Six times eight is… forty-eight, which minus nine is… is…

“Pay attention. Focus.” A firm click in my ear forcefully yanks my attention back, drawing me back to those… those eyes. Pulling me in. Pulling me down. “This is a resistance challenge, remember. You have to keep focused on me, focused on the feeling of trance slowly overtaking you. After all, it’s not a challenge if you don’t engage with it, right? You wanted to win, right? To show me that you could resist the trance? Is that what you wanted? Are you sure? Or did you just want an excuse for me to take you down, show you how malleable your mind has become? Hmm… have you ever kneaded dough before? It starts off messy, crumbly, cluttered up with all sorts of detritus, bits of flour, salt, maybe a little sugar or baking powder. Chaotic. Disordered. Thoughts flying in every direction. But as you start kneading it, those little parts start blending together. Warm and flat under the pressure of your hands. Those strands of gluten forming, stretching out as you press the dough back and forth, up and down, left, right, side to side. Becoming malleable. Able to be shaped… moulded… formed. And no matter how resistant the dough might be, no matter how little the ingredients might want to mix, all it takes is time, and pressure. Kneading the mind into wonderful, beautiful consistency. Those pulses of force pulling you down again… and again… and again…”

It does feel a bit like I’m being kneaded at the moment. She’s contracting her coils in sequence, pulsing up my abdomen, up my… chest? She… she got to my che- nnnngh. I… she squeezes my chest hard enough to force the air from my lungs. I c… I can’t control my breathing anymore, she’s supplying that slow… slow rhythm of breaths. I’m… I’m being pressed, from all directions, like a hug from all around, it’s… it feels so good, to be enveloped, wrapped up, kneaded like dough between her c- no, I… I need to… resist, I need to resist, no matter how good it feels, I can… I can stop her from getting any further up, I just need to… wrap my hands around her tail again. Feeling the scales between my fingers, smooth, pulsing, worming against me. I’m trying to resist, but… it’s so hard to think when she’s squeezing me back and forth like this. Is my body moving? I… can’t tell anymore. I just want to go blank, to drop into that incredible feeling of emptiness, and I know it’s there, I know that if you just allowed yourself to fall, even a little, the last bits of your resistance would drain away.

W-wait. I… did I think that? I… it’s so hard to think, isn’t it? It’s okay. You’re allowed to fall; I can see how much you want it. You’re clinging on as hard as you can, but we both know that you won’t be able to keep your mind together for much longer.

I… I can’t… I don’t know which thoughts are mine and which are hers anymore. I just… I… I need to k-keep… mmmmm… it… it just feels too good to… I…

There we are, that’s it. It’s okay. Feel that warmth washing over you. The waves of relaxation returning as you breathe deep… in… and out… it’s so easy not to think, to just the last of your thoughts drain away. Slipping down into my coils, wrapping up around your shoulders, around your neck. It’s almost like a cocoon of scales, rubbing, kneading, enveloping, squeezing every last drop of thoughts out of that cute little head. And you want to be blank so badly, don’t you? So completely and utterly entranced that you can’t even want to think, just being able to exist in that wonderful space of bliss.

I… nnnneeeed…

Shh, shh, it’s okay. When you feel my coils wrapping over your face, they’ll squeeze out any last thoughts you have. I know you want it. I know you need to be blank. Ready?


Wonderful. You’ve done such a good job at falling into trance for me. Feel the tip of my tail sliding up the back of your neck, over your cheek, still giving you plenty of space to breathe, over your eyes, around your head. It’s so heavy. You can’t stop your head from just… falling down with the weight. Resting against me. Resting against my scales. It’s so comfortable, isn’t it?


And now that your mind is completely blank, no more thoughts left in that beautiful head of yours, just allow yourself to rest in my coils. Not too cool, not to warm, just right to relax into that pressure all around you. No need to think. No need to struggle. No need to resist. Just able to sink. Deeper… and deeper. Now that you’re completely in trance, of course, that means I’ve won. But when losing means that you get to enjoy such delightful emptiness… well, it just makes it that much easier to sink again… and again… and again…


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