You’re awake and not breathing.
These two facts, one mundane, the other horrifying, should, in combination induce a sense of panic. Breathing is important. But here you are, not breathing and not panicking. Even more, there’s no sense of burning in your lungs as you feel your recently changed body, a little numb but otherwise as you remember it, a pressure all around you from the snake. It’s clear that you’re still laying in the mechanical snake you found yourself swallowed by though, as sensations return, you’re not sure if you can feel the tightness of the suit.
That’s strange, you think. And really, what’s even stranger now that you’re dwelling on it, is how nonchalant you are about the whole thing. You were a man before this, then became a ballerina girl and then were chased then dressed as a ballerina doll then disrobed then jumped down a chute and then was swallowed by a snake and now are trapped in the snake and not breathing.
And that’s been your past few hours. And instead of panicking or anything, you’re just feeling remarkably chill. There’s no screaming, no crying, no woe is me or anything as you ruminate on it, just a feeling that this is your life now and it’s actually kind of cool? You don’t really understand how being a doll-costumed girl in a mechanical snake is cool, but you’re strangely satisfied with your lot in life, no matter what direction it may take.
It takes your mind only a few moments to make the connection; about how the magical costume made you into a girl and then the doll costume you wore. If it was magical, it may have made you a doll? The thought doesn’t repel you as much as you thought it would, or hoped it should. In fact, dwelling on it, you notice your lack of heartbeat. It may explain the strange passivity too; dolls don’t do things unless acted on by something. That’s actually really pretty cool, and your horror is drowned out by you almost admiring yourself for some time, as if unable to help yourself luxuriating in your new form. It’s as if existing is all you need to do. You’re not sure how long you lay there, enjoying the simple bliss of being.
After a while, your thoughts reassert themselves. Doll or no, no matter how good it feels, you should get out and probably change back to normal. Probably. It’s not a driving urge as much as something you should maybe do; like getting in shape or getting your finances in order. It’s so much more comfortable to rest and relax and not think on it, feeling hugged and embraced by the warm latex and enjoying the feeling just existing as you are now.
Not that you could necessarily get out if you wanted to. You frown internally, finding it hard to move in your rubbery and mechanical prison, the warmth you were feeling seeming to have melted the rubbery insides a little? It’s probably not just your recent change, because you feel more softness than you’re used to, but it’s almost as if something is holding your body firm.
Giving an unneeded breath to let out a sigh that doesn’t emerge from locked lips you...