After a short delay, the fluorescent lighting in the basement flickers to life. You find yourself in a dusty, neglected laundry room with discarded costumes scattered around. Some of them are the typical flimsy, gaudy things you'd expect from a theater, but the partially disassembled animatronic suits at the bottom of the laundry pile look like something out of a science fiction story. Huh, maybe whatever you landed inside is something cool like those things.
The first word you think of when you look down at your legs is "green". The second word is "snake", followed by "mouth", followed by "oh no".
Over nine meters long and coated in glossy scales, the mechanical snake you find yourself stuck in is almost majestic, except that its jaws and gullet are distorted by your legs. You can just barely see your feet wiggle underneath their tough, stretchy confinement. Despite the tight pinch surrounding you from the waist down, the soft, pink interior of the snake prop is almost comfortable.
A pleasant rippling sensation rubs along your legs, from the tips of your toes all the way up to your thighs. After a long day of running and jumping, the massage is welcome. At least, it feels welcome until you notice that your pink rubber skin has now vanished down the snake's mouth up past your belly button.
"Mph?"
Squeak, squeak, squeak. You place your palms against the sides of the snake and push as hard as you can. Not only do you not budge an inch, you still feel yourself slowly being sucked down into the snake, its ribbed innards treading across your pink hide. Stupid robot won't let you go, it seems. It can't be that bad, right? The snake has to be running out of battery soon, it's just been sitting here for a while... right?
Your rubbery palms slide right off the scales of the snake. You barely have anything to brace yourself against; not only are there no walls around you, you can't even reach the chute you fell out of. As the suction brings the snake's mouth up to the bottoms of your fake breasts, your feel your pulse quicken. No, no, this feels wrong. Your best guess at actually slowing yourself is hooking your thumbs into the sides of the snake's jaw and straining with all your might. For a brief moment, your descent is arrested! One brief moment later, your hands end up sucked in right with the rest of your body from the chest down.
"MMM MMPH!"
As your plastic-encased head gets closer to its final destination, you can hear the faint whirring of motors dragging you in, along with the sticky sluuuurp of rubber on rubber. Panic grips your heart as you wiggle desperately, squeaking and creaking as your breasts and shoulders pass over the hump and vanish. Your mask has only a blank smile on her face to hide your screaming and wailing state, tears blurring your vision even more than the lenses already blocking your eyes. Muscles and tendons in your neck stretch as you tilt your head upwards, imagining that this might do literally anything to save you.
Darkness falls on you. The snake's mouth is closed, and your plastic head is surrounded by the same pressure as everything else. Now there is nothing but darkness, rubber and a gradual sinking sensation. Now that the worst is over, it's not really that bad... you're not quite sure how you're still breathing, but a current of rubber-scented air is reaching you nonetheless. Your body is forced to its knees and then forced to lay down. Is... is the snake resting? It's a robot, it doesn't need to rest, does it? Someone's playing games with you. But to what end?