#constriction

[konpiii]

Lamia Bestiary 2 (WIP) - When she keeps tightening up...

[faeriefag]

🎀 pov: you're a princess trapped in your own corset, and getting mean about it (second person POV) 🎀

your chambers are suffocating enough without the corset. the whalebone and silk are a cage, each breath a shallow, wheezing victory. you were supposed to be a symbol of purity, of perfection, but all you could feel was a dull ache in your ribs and the slick sweat between your tits.

your lady-in-waiting is sick, and the new girl is as useless as a stubborn mule and twice as ugly. you've been trying to get out of this thing for an hour. the knots are a mess, her hands raw from winding and unwinding stubborn silk ties.

"just fetch a guard," you finally snap, patience worn thin to a raw nerve. "anyone! just get this damn thing off me!"

the humiliation of being seen by a guard while you're dressed down to your farthingale and petticoat is a bitter pill, but you're desperate. sweat is drenching your back now, dropping down your thighs and onto the floor. the lack of air and oppressive heat make you doubtful you'll stay conscious much longer.

the one who comes in is a big, hulking brute. not one of the pretty ones from the court. a knight perhaps, only by title but not by virtue, acting as some sort of hired mercenary. clearly the kingdom is having issues if they have to hire brutish outsiders like this. he's got dirt under his fingernails, and a smell of iron and musk about him. he doesn't look at your face, just at the laces of your corset, then down at the swell of your breasts pushed up by the constriction. it makes your skin crawl, but what choice do you have?

"don't just stand there you idiot, help me!" you demand, your voice sharp with the impatience of the truly privileged. your curls are wild, clinging to your forehead.

the warrior looks down at you, as if sizing up his prey. he's twice as big in almost every direction, eclipsing you, the faint candlelight blotted out by his silhouette.

"my, you're bein' a pretty nasty bitch for someone who needs my help so badly," he says, not moving. "why should i bother helping a whiny little thing like you?"

then takes a step forward, not to help, but to intimidate. it's getting harder to breathe now, and you can't afford to have some mangled oaf tell talk to you that way.

"my father, the king, will have your head for your insolence," you spit, trying to sound regal, but your breath hitches, betraying your discomfort. a sweaty wheeze whining out from your lips as you try and shove the man with all your might.

he just laughs. "turn around then, if you're in such dire need, milady."

you turn your back to him, bracing yourself on your bedpost. the silk of your shift is thin, practically nonexistent against your skin. you can feel the heat of him behind you, a wall of muscle and malice. his hands are on you then, and they're not gentle. they're rough, calloused, and they're not just on the laces. they're sliding down your back, over the curve of your ass. you flinch, but you don't dare pull away.

"ser, the laces!" you whine as his wayward hands seem to go everywhere but where they need to be. "surely you can't be that stupid."

to your relief, he starts to pull the laces, but not to loosen them. he's pulling them tighter. the corset cinches, the air squeezing out of your lungs in a panicked gasp. "what're you doing?" you choke out, your hands flying to your chest to cover yourself. he pulls tighter again, exposing you as to attempt to wriggle free.

"teaching you a lesson in manners, princess," he growls, his breath hot and foul against your ear. one of his hands leaves the laces and comes around to cup your newly exposed breast, squeezing hard, his thumb rubbing over your nipple until it pebbles, a traitorous response to the rough treatment.

you're struggling, but it's useless. he's too strong. the corset is a vise, stealing your breath, your vision starting to swim at the edges. the room is getting dark. you can feel his other hand fumbling with the ties of your shift, the rough fabric of his breeches pressing against your bare back. "please," you try to say again, but it's just a strangled whimper.

"shh, now, stop yer squeakin," he says, his voice a low, predatory rumble. "i'll take it off when i'm done with you." you can feel his fingers dip lower, between your legs, and you're so scared it's making you wet. how humiliating. you're disgusting. a princess, a dirty little bitch getting slick for this brute. you can hear him laugh, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through your entire body. "see, i knew you'd like this."

[dozydawn]

indian python preying on a hog deer

[bawdybooster]

Fortune's Favor

After being guided to her tent by a belly-dancing lamia out on the plaza, Dylan had been persuaded to let Meredith offer a quick glimpse into his future. Amid the darkness of the tent and his cushiony seat upon a bed of her scales, that 'quick glimpse' had quickly spiraled out of control; Tarot Cards, Tea Leaves, Palm Readings. She even attempted to read his mind, but still, his future seemed clouded in darkness to the fortune-telling lamia. He was clearly in control of his own destiny!

If he was any wiser, he'd have been more suspicious. He'd have realized that, as she'd told him off all his fortunes, she was not-so-subtly hypnotizing him, for she had a different fate in store for him. Her hypnotic gaze pulsed into his very being, her spirals drowned his thoughts in a kaleidoscopic cascade of color.  Thick coils ensnared him in loops of scale and muscle, piled around him and ensnaring him to the spot as Meredith worked her magic over him.

As she broke from her vision, her tail approached, a crystal ball held within its scales.  "Gaze into the ball," she commanded, her words echoing in his mind, "The ball knows all."

“The ball… knows all…” Dylan repeated, his thoughts awash with Meredith’s colorful gaze.  Her coils squeezed tight around him and her hands clasped onto his head, holding him still until all his focus was upon the crystal ball.  His jaw hung slack, and a thin wisp of drool began to drip from his lips onto Meredith’s scales.  Meredith’s words echoed in his mind, stringing along his thoughts in a symphony of subliminal thought.  “The ball knows all.  The ball knows all.  The ball knows all.”

The fortune-teller lamia marveled at the sight of him so perfectly bound in her coils.  Perfectly bound to her desires.  A hungry desire stirred within her, burning with lust.   She couldn’t help but drool at the thought of him as her perfect pet.  "Yes, good boy... Gaze into the ball... Let your future be mine~"

Reposting this wonderful comm from @archie-sunshine again as today is my friend MrXBX's Birthday, and this piece is showcasing some of his OCs get some hypnotic squeezes on~

[worldssilliestserpent]

SNAKE ATTACK

[mussette-papillion]

I got this lil YCH available for folks who might be interested! Check out the other different coiled pieces I've done for people! :D

[dennydreadful]

Caleb/Wormantha 💚

[konpiii]

Lamia Bestiary 2 (WIP) - What happened to our boom operator?!