veryroundbirdfics | CMWGE | she tells me worship in the bedroom

Rating: Spicy
Words: 1742
Characters: Liza Voronina, Basilisk
Relationships: Liza/Basilisk
Summary: Liza has a sexy roleplaying fantasy that she's embarrassed about—but once she's encouraged to share it, she discovers that it's not just her that's into it. Also when one of you can be a giant snake it really does wonders for the verisimilitude.

Content Notes:

A lot of things I learned about snake dicks, sexual roleplay, worship kink, monsterfucking, size kink, overstimulation, snake me to snurch

It had been Liza's idea in the first place—although Basilisk had needed to wheedle it out of her, seeing she'd had something on her mind that she was being shy about. She'd stammered it out, face entirely red, while Basilisk pinned her to the bed and made her spit it out, but—oh, she'd wondered if her god-monster wife would get at least a little enjoyment out of the idea, and—

—well, from the way she'd smiled, maybe Liza had underestimated herself and her private fantasies.

The real nerve-wracking part was that Liza wasn't actually any good at acting. She'd definitely been fretting over it enough to not even have room for self-consciousness about the brief, diaphanous imitation of a shrine maiden's robes that she was finally wearing after having them hidden in the back of the closet for ages.

She was still thinking about it as she lit the sticks of incense in a bowl, filling the room with a warm, heavy scent. Sure, well—she'd thought about this kind of thing more than enough, but it was more of a gestural sketch. And anyway, when it was just in her head she didn't have to deal with anyone else seeing it.

The line of thought had absorbed her so much that she yelped and nearly jumped out of her skin when a pair of arms slipped around her waist from behind.

"My," said her wife's voice, a dark and sultry purr. "I suppose you didn't expect to run into anyone at this lonely shrine either, did you?"

"Um," said Liza, her heart still hammering in her chest even though the surprise had worn off. She searched for words: "No—no, I guess I didn't. I thought… I should visit, though."

"A rare individual, then. Not many think the god of this shrine is one that anyone would or should want to approach…" Basilisk was really leaning into the bit, although if Liza thought about it, it was barely even a bit for her. "Do you hope the Serpent of the shrine will grant a request? I'm curious what it would be."

Liza could feel the flush creeping onto her face, and shifted a little on her knees. "It's really just that…" Actually—here, somehow, the words came easily to her. "It's such a quiet, lonely place, and that's… comfortable to me. If the god of this shrine likes it here… then I think I could understand it."

Because that was the thing, and something clicked in her head—feeling strange and off-balance but still comfortable was how the early days of their relationship had felt, Liza clumsily circling the woman/monster/god who'd reached out to her and trying to reconcile every dire warning with the fact that she still felt a rare kind of ease.

In a way—it was like getting to meet again for the first time, wasn't it? Thinking back to that time—she could work with that.

The arms around her tightened a little, and distantly, in the dark, she could hear a whispery sound, like scales on smooth stone. "What a fascinating priestess I've found. Taking care of a place like this… not out of kindness or pity, but because you like it."

She shivered and froze at the susurrous whisper of her wife's voice in her ear—almost like the flicker of a serpent's tongue tickling at her skin. (Maybe it was, in fact.) Her heart hammered in her chest, and—she had to admit she was already incredibly turned on.

Basilisk was so hot when she was being menacing.

"Maybe I… ought to get going, though," she protested, making a show of uncertainty, and shifted to try and stand, but—

—Basilisk caught one arm at the wrist, nearly causing Liza to topple forwards. "Um," she said, the wind half-escaped from her lungs from startlement.

"In such a rush? Oh, I don't think you need to be," said her wife, winding her fingers in Liza's hair and sounding incredibly smug. "I quite like you on your knees."

She really had to take a moment there to collect herself. "Ah. Ah?"

There was the sound of scales on stone again, and then she could feel the brush of those scales against her legs, winding around her. That Basilisk still held her tight with her human arms didn't really have any bearing on what the rest of her could be doing, Liza had come to understand—some rules just didn't apply to Mysteries. "Did you not expect that the god of this shrine would notice you, little priestess?" said Basilisk, her smile razor-sharp even unseen. "A morsel so lovely as yourself?"

"I—" She cut off as Basilisk's coils wrapped her arms snugly to her sides. "I thought—"

"You needn't deny it," said Basilisk, chin resting on her shoulder. "Surely you hoped for something. What did you imagine, of meeting the god-monster of the shrine? To be bitten, devoured, embraced, taken as her own?"

A shiver. "Well. I," she started, abortively, and the fingers in her hair pulled back, hard, cutting through the flustered hesitation. "I—yes! Sorry, I'm—embarrassed, but I imagined… all of that…"

"Good. Good." There was clear satisfaction in her wife's voice. "Don't be embarrassed, though. After all, your god will grant these things to you, and more. Everything you ask." A pause. "All you need to do is offer up your prayers for exactly what you want."

Liza could feel her cheeks burning. But she had articulated herself well enough before, despite being half-bullied into it. She could—theoretically—do it again.

"Great Serpent," she began, voice hitching, "please… please. I… desire to… to know you as intimately as you'll allow. I've… I've imagined, before coming here… that you might bend me over your shrine. Like an offering to you, and that… that you would fill me, and let me worship you in that way…"

"Oh, my little priestess," said Basilisk, truly in her element. "Was that so hard to admit? You want me to take you as my tribute, and fuck you holy in ecstasy?"

Something pressed between Liza's legs, spreading them apart—two thick, textured lengths side-by-side. Her thin, brief underwear was little barrier against the serpent's hemipenes rubbing over her entrance and against her clit, and she drew in a ragged breath, hips squirming even with her limited room to move. She was already so wet just from being sexily menaced—"Yes," she breathed. "Please—please, take me—"

"Then I shall have you," said her god, and thrust the first hemipene in, hard and deep, easily pushing aside the flimsy crotch of Liza's panties. At Basilisk's monstrous size—well, everything was big, no exceptions, and the sudden fullness, pressing into her and against all the most sensitive places at the core of her, caused her to gasp so hard it almost came out as a sob. But she couldn't rest, because then the serpent was moving—coils shifting around her to thrust, pulling out to bury herself deeper and deeper in.

"Ah—hhhhhhhh, oh, my god—"

"Yes," Basilisk's voice came, husky and ragged. "Exalt in me, for—I have made you mine." Her hands came to cup Liza's chin, tilting her head up and back. "Is this what you imagined? How you imagined it would feel, when you thought about this? Did you touch yourself?"

It was hard to muster up the composure to string together a sentence, with all her nerves alight and her brain feeling like it was melting. The textured exterior of her wife's cock threatened to overwhelm her with sensation at every movement. "I… I did. But it's not—at all—as, as good—"

"We'll have to make sure you never forget, then," said Basilisk, tracing a finger over Liza's lower lip and tugging downwards on it. "After all, you're marked as my very own, now. My maiden, my priestess, inside and out, down to your very soul…"

Sharp fangs pricked at Liza's neck and dragged their way lightly down her upper back, and her skin tingled; she thought back to discovering the black, serpentine marking on her arm after they'd first been intimate and remembered vividly both the alarm and the strange thrill of it. Her breath escaped her mouth in a needy whine, desperately pushing back against every thrust until she felt herself tighten in anticipation of release—and then any attempt at composure was not only gone but long gone as climax washed over her, and from the way Basilisk's coils rippled around her, she wasn't far behind.

Eventually, she got her breath back, her throat sore from wailing out her pleasure, and her head drooped. "Tired?" her wife asked—no, her god asked, because neither of them had broken the scene yet. And Liza realized, as raw and wrung out as she was as she felt the serpent's cock pull out of her, and felt its twin still hard and thick, rubbing between her legs—

—oh, they weren't remotely done, were they. Her toes curled against the floor, and a shiver ran down her spine.

"Yes?" said Basilisk, her own breath heavy with exertion against Liza's ear—but still managing to sound teasing. "Can you take more of my gifts?"

Liza didn't hesitate: she nodded.

…she was going to have to cancel all of her house calls tomorrow. Oh well.

Eventually, Basilisk's coils loosened from around her, and Liza flopped bonelessly down. "Fffffffuck."

There was a sound like a sigh and a papery sound like dead skin being shed, and her wife's arms draped around her once again, loosely. "Did you have fun?"

"I… think I'm going to need a few minutes to be able to move at all," she responded. "So—yes." She paused. "You seemed like you really enjoyed that."

"Perhaps I did," her wife said, after the slightest hair of a thoughtful pause. "I do like being feared, but revered is… special." She made a slight hmph sound. "You should say things like that to me more."

"Mmm," said Liza, and shifted sideways in her wife's arms, so she could lean up to kiss her on the cheek. "My formidable and awesome wife. Beautiful and terrible and divine. And," she said, as Basilisk's eyes widened slightly, "mine."

And for a rare moment, Liza saw her wife look a little flustered—in the same way she'd had surprise written on her face when Liza had first called her mine in front of a pissed-off mob of neighbors.

Her smile curled up at one corner. "Maybe I should say things like that more often, too."