STRANGE TAILS
Noam

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This story has no 
resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

“Death by snake bites? There’s a poisonous snake on the loose?” Noam Jenkins looked at 
the body of the muscular man lying in eternal repose on the table. 

“Snakes would be my guess,” the coroner, a man called Ed. “Plural,” he clarified 
unnecessarily. He opened the dead man’s mouth and pressed down the tongue with a pair 
of forceps. He picked up a narrow metallic tube of flashlight with his other hand and 
shone down the dead man’s mouth. “You can’t really see it from here but there are 
multiple snake bits all the way down the man’s esophagus down to a depth… here.” Ed 
indicated a point just above the level of his heart. “And it’s bizarre because Jane – my 
colleague – extracted several venoms rather than just one type. There are venoms from 
asp, black mamba, gaboon viper, inland Taipan, saw scaled viper, the Australian black 
and brown sea snakes, and at least ten other venoms from other lethal snakes.” 

Noam tilted his head a little to his right, a habit he had when he was thinking. “Someone 
must have taken the trouble to import all those snakes from their native countries.” That 
meant he had to look up the names of collectors of exotic wildlife, which wasn’t going to 
be easy as most of these collectors would not have obtained their collections by legal 
means, as well as checking up on imports, legal or illegal, of such snakes into this 
country. He was starting to have a headache just contemplating the work that awaited 
him. He frowned at Ed. “I don’t understand, though, how he was bitten only down his 
esophagus. There are no bites anywhere else?” 

Ed blushed. “Not on anywhere else except…” He grimaced as he lifted the sheets off the 
corpse’s lower body. “There are also snake bites all the way up his anal passage up to the 
point where the rectum begins.” He handed the scalpel to Noam. “You can see for 
yourself.”

“No thanks,” said Noam with a grimace, his buttocks clenching involuntarily. It was 
probably a good thing that he didn’t have a fuck buddy at the moment because it would 
probably be a while before he had the mood for some good old-fashioned man-to-man 
fucking again after today. “Snakes moved up his ass and down his throat?” He could 
imagine the horrifying scene but he couldn’t imagine how such a scene could be possible. 

“Hundreds of the most poisonous snakes,” Ed said weakly. “And these snakes didn’t bite 
anywhere else other than those two… passages. Odd, isn’t it?”

“Snakes don’t do that kind of body invasion shit,” said Noam, genuinely puzzled now as 
he opened the corpse’s mouth. He couldn’t see much in the shadowed depths of the back 
of the throat. He would have to take Ed’s words about the snakebites. “And the mouth as 
well as the ass… surely they cannot accommodate the girth of…”

Ed shook his head. “I looked up the average size of each adult venomous snake that could 
have produced the amount of toxins Jane collected and I can’t imagine it either. Perhaps 
there are many, many half-grown snakes that attacked him, the collective amount of the 
toxins enough to kill him, but even so, Jane’s calculations suggested strongly that this 
man was attacked by at least three hundred fully-grown venomous snakes. The muscles 
of his jaw and anus show no sign of tear, so all I can imagine is that each snake took turn 
moving up or down those body tracts and biting him. Ridiculous, really, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Noam said thoughtfully as he looked down at the body. “Very well, Ed,” he 
finally said. “Thanks for your time. Please let me know if you have anything new.” He 
passed Ed a paper with his number.



Noam inhaled with relief when he stepped out of the morgue. Damn, he hated those 
places that reeked of death. But death was his second skin – it clung to him like a 
suffocating cloak, reminding him of the demons inside his head that drove him in this 
wretched life of his. His handsome face, always affable and likeable, dropped its façade 
as he stood alone on the pavement. 

Ed, if asked, would describe “Mr Peter Arthouse” as a handsome, even boyish man with 
dark hair that was almost black, a height of about six feet two, and a charming smile that 
made him seem very approachable. Ed, like many people, would however find himself 
unable to describe the man’s face and even voice in detail. 

This was because Noam presented to people like Ed only a part of his true face. His true 
face was sterner, harsher, his boyish handsomeness marred by lines that could only arise 
as a result of events that hardened his will and blackened his heart into an unfeeling husk. 
This Noam was darker, a corruption of the former good-natured easy-going young man 
whose life came crashing to a halt when his parents were murdered when they 
accidentally stumbled across a murder being committed by an assassin under the payroll 
of James Lafferty. 

To all, James Lafferty was a handsome young entrepreneur who turned his late father’s 
failing newspaper into one with one of the highest circulation in this country as well as 
seventeen others. Ironically, the newspaper, the Daily Argos – named for the hundred-
eyed giant in Greek mythology – published news exposing corruption and other sordid 
details that soon gave James a reputation for being a fighter for truth. He was even 
nominated for a Pulitzer, although perhaps James had some conscience left in him to turn 
down the nomination. 

Underneath the façade of a crusader, James was however one of the very people he built 
his career on denouncing. The ironic reason for his publishing company remaining 
unmolested was because he had the power and ruthlessness to personally silence any 
dissent. The people he exposed were his rivals that refused to submit to his control. Those 
who still had some fight left after he was done with them inevitably lose their lives to 
James’ loyal retinue of assassins, said to be led by James’ stepbrother Chad Murray who 
was rumored to be James’ lover as well. It was Chad who sent the then sixteen-year old 
Noam a bouquet on the funeral of his parents and had the temerity to show up late in the 
funeral with several of his assassins, all clad in black. They had stood silently at the back 
of the church, at all appearances respectful of the ceremony apart from the small tight 
grin on Chad’s face that mocked Noam. 

“I’m sorry about your parents. They were at the wrong place, at the wrong time,” was all 
Chad said when an enraged Noam confronted him.

“I saw you… you smiled as you ordered my parents to be killed,” Noam spat. He was 
sixteen, foolish and convinced of his invulnerability. 

“Take revenge on me then,” Chad simply said, merely adjusting his collar in a mocking 
gesture. “Be like Bruce Wayne then, become Batman and haunt my dreams.” He smiled 
again, that mocking smile that was simultaneously very attractive and very insulting. “I 
can wait.” 

Noam had to grow up fast since then. In the ten years since, he had watched as James and 
Chad remained unmolested by the law, all charges of his parents’ murder having fallen 
on some homeless man who still had no idea who framed him for the crime or how he 
was framed. Noam watched as James grew older and more powerful in the underworld 
while to the people that adored James Lafferty the man only became more likeable and 
popular. It was shocking how Noam was of the same age as James. When Noam was 
sixteen, he only cared for fucking, boozing, and partying, unable to imagine in his naivety 
that another young man of only sixteen could be capable of unspeakable sins, such as 
ordering the murder of two innocent people who happened to be at the wrong place at the 
wrong time. Noam knew now. He had spent five years training under a group of 
mercenaries and learning from them how to use firearms, knives, and his fists to hurt, 
maim, and kill. He honed his body to become a weapon. His endurance, flexibility, 
agility, stamina, and stealth could put a Navy SEAL to shame. 

And it was this stealth and dexterity of his that allowed Noam Jenkins to jump up to grab 
the street lamp high up and used it as leverage to vault onto a narrow foothold on the 
third floor of the building that housed the morgue. In a space of ten seconds, Noam had 
left the pavement five floors down and moved up to the rooftop, where he stood and ran 
his fingers wearily through his hair as he cursed this unknown person and his or her 
snakes that managed to kill Candor Mitchell, the powerful arms dealer wanted in thirty 
countries worldwide for his activities, before Noam could get to that man.   

He wouldn’t be denied again his target, Noam promised himself. 

There was a glint of particularly bright sunlight reflected on his shades. When the 
sunlight dimmed slightly, Noam was gone.





TWO

The Angel, they called him.

Miguel Ángel Silvestre was his full name. The Angel, Noam realized, was therefore a 
rather derivative thing to call this useless playboy. However, the moniker fit the twenty-
four year old heir to one of South America’s biggest fortunes. Miguel’s fortune was built 
in sugar on the backbone of countless slaves that made the Silvestre plantations over two 
hundred years to the billion-dollar business it was today. The Angel descended into New 
York’s adoring glitterati about two months ago and he had been the darling of society 
ever since. While Noam didn’t care about the man’s outlook in life, he knew everything 
he had to know about the world he lived in. He therefore knew what the Angel did, the 
ridiculously number of men and women that he did, and how he did them. 

It was expected that a man like the Angel would avail himself to every pleasure his 
fortune and good looks afforded him. Nonetheless, Noam, even when he was younger 
and more stupid, couldn’t imagine doing half of what the Angel was rumored to have 
done. Fucking the Sheraton sisters and their mother at the same time was Noam’s 
favorite rumor about the Angel. He knew the Sheraton mother and he couldn’t imagine 
that proper and well-mannered woman to indulge in a wanton orgy with her daughters. 

Or… would she? Noam frowned slightly as he watched Marilinda rubbed her hand along 
the Angel’s arm as she whispered almost intimately into his ear. It was a nice arm, Noam 
admitted to himself, reluctantly taking in the sight of the Angel’s white shirt being 
stretched by the man’s muscular physique just enough to highlight the Angel’s 
impressive muscles in all the right places. Speaking of muscles, Noam’s eyes couldn’t 
resist moving downwards the Angel’s body to check out the muscles that a gay man with 
a healthy libido would be most intrigued by. The Angel’s buttocks were high, taut, and 
tightly rounded. Those bubble butt cheeks filled the Angel’s grey trousers until the fabric 
was snug against tempting flesh like a second skin. When the Angel moved to a nearby 
table to get a drink, the front of those pants stretched and molded the man’s crotch with 
every graceful step the man took. Noam swallowed as he saw the way the other man 
filled the crotch – either the Angel shamelessly padded his front or the man was one of 
those rare well-endowed men that never encountered any problems filling out a pair of 
snug trousers. When Noam moved to whisper something that made Marilinda laugh, 
Noam caught the man’s side profile and sure enough, there was a visible bulge in the 
Angel’s crotch. With the number of women and men throwing themselves at the Angel, 
Noam hazarded that it was likely that Miguel Ángel Silvestre was probably half-hard 
from the attention. That only made Noam wonder how impressive the other man would 
be if he was fully aroused.

An obvious dampness in Noam’s crotch had the effect of breaking his reverie. He quickly 
glanced down at his black trousers. Fucking hell, he was close to popping as he imagined 
the Angel naked and aroused, his cock so hard and painful that he was in danger of 
creating an embarrassing tent in the front of his jeans. Already his cock was spewing 
salty clear lubrication in anticipation of a vigorous fuck, causing a pool of sticky wetness 
to form at where the head of his cock was carelessly wedged in his briefs. 

Control, Noam told himself as he willed his body to succumb to the iron discipline he 
lived by. He tried to remember that the Angel was only some playboy that he had no use 
for. That thought however only gave rise to treacherous images in his mind about how he 
could very well use the Angel. He could see taut buttocks clenched tight in desire… male 
bodies straining for relief… Noam bit back a sob as his control snapped. A part of him 
that was still capable of sane thoughts thankful that his pants were dark enough to hide 
his arousal as long as people weren’t watching him too closely, Noam quickly strode 
across the room towards the one place where he could overcome his unruly desires.




He moaned softly in relief as he unzipped his pants and pulled the waistband of his briefs 
down. His cock sprang free, hard and jutting forward for fulfillment, and Noam’s knees 
trembled until he had to press his palms against the wall of the toilet cubicle to remain on 
his feet. Noam blindly thrust his hips forth, fucking the air with a thick and violently 
throbbing cock that was so full of blood that the head was nearly purple in shade. His 
hand… he needed to use his hand… but as Noam tried to take his right hand from the 
wall, his knees buckled. Noam gave one wild thrust as his body seemed to find the last 
vestiges of primal male need hidden away in his well-disciplined body and let this male 
need take over his very senses. He howled, an inhuman sound of pure male hunger, just 
as he felt the latch on the door behind him gave way. Maddened with need, he thrust his 
hips one more time even as he lost his balance and started to fall onto his back on the 
floor. 

A powerful arc of warm semen exploded from his cock slit, splattering across three 
mirrors located on the wall five feet away from Noam. Noam fell onto his back and, lost 
in his lust, his hips seemed to lose all control as they kept thrusting again and again. 
Spurts after spurts of his hot seed splashed from his pulsing cock as Noam’s body shook 
in violent spasms. His come shot onto his face, onto his hair and over his eyes until he 
could barely see, over his nose until he had to open his mouth wider to breathe through 
his pants and moans, and subsequently into his mouth. 

As his spurts weakened in their strength with each subsequent pulse of ejaculation, he 
soaked his shirt with his own fluids until the cotton stuck to his sweaty skin, his semen 
forming an obscene treasure trail of sorts along the valley of his ridged abs until his fluids 
spread out and dripped amidst the matted thick fur around his now slightly softened cock. 

Sssssss…

Noam opened his eyes. A snake, here? 

His eyes fell onto a pair of shoes right beside his prone body. He looked up a pair of long 
and muscular legs clothed in grey to a bulging crotch that was now obviously straining to 
rein in an erection. Noam looked up higher, right at the face of the Angel himself. The 
Angel didn’t seem to care that Noam was lying in a pool of his own sex fluids or that the 
Angel was standing right in it with Noam’s semen now glistening against the dark leather 
of the Angel’s shoes. 

Sssssss…

“What?” Noam started to say. “Did you hear that sound…?”

“What sound?” the Angel merely asked. Oh, even his voice, a sweet masculine tenor that 
sent shivers down Noam’s spine and a jolt of lust, like electricity, that caused his cock to 
throb even as it lengthened to its full length and girth until the Angel’s gaze. “This?” he 
asked. There was an odd accent, Noam thought, the way the Angel seemed to be draw 
about the S in his words. Maybe that was the sound he mistook for a snake. His meeting 
with Ed earlier today was making him paranoid. “This?” the Angel asked again, and yes, 
the man had a way of drawing out the S a little. Noam relaxed. This cavernous bathroom 
could produce an echo effect that magnified the man’s accent until Noam thought he 
heard a snake. 

The Angel pressed Noam’s right hand so that his palm was pressed against the Angel’s 
chest right over the heart. Noam’s lips parted as he thought he could actually hear the 
rapid beating of the Angel’s heart in his head, beating in erotic unison to his own 
heartbeat. “I hear you,” Noam said in a raspy tone as he used his other hand to unbutton 
the Angel’s shirt. The Angel moved to straddle Noam, his other hand already unbuckling 
his belt. Those grey pants fell over Noam’s shoes as the Angel, wearing only a pair of 
low-rise red briefs, moved to sit gently over Noam’s cock that lay on his stomach. The 
Angel threw his head back and gave a soft moan as he began moving his crotch back and 
forth, letting the heated flesh between his hairy legs and his testicles massage Noam’s 
cock erotically as Noam pulled Angel’s shirt off and threw it absently out of the way. His 
movements had caused the Angel’s cock shaft to escape the confines of his skimpy briefs 
so that the full muscular fleshy shaft jutted forth like the spear of a powerful warrior. 
Already it was dripping its own pearly lubrication, a sticky strand of such fluid falling 
from the angry slit to mix with the pool of similar fluid forming right around the head of 
Noam’s cock. 

They were both reluctant to break contact of their flesh so the Angel merely reached 
down and pushed aside the fabric of his briefs to expose his hairy anal pucker. Noam held 
his cock with one hand as he coughed spit onto his other hand and lubricated his cock. 
And then the Angel was pressing his tight asshole ring against Noam’s cock head. The 
other man gave a slow but forceful downward pressure and he moaned. Noam cried out 
as he felt the other man’s anal ring stretch and give. And then he was inside the hottest, 
wettest, and tightest sheath he could ever want for his sensitized cock. 


THREE


They fucked like maddened beasts lost to human reason. The Angel rode Noam hard at 
first. Noam kissed the man roughly until he tasted blood on both their lips as the Angel 
visibly exploded in his climax. And then Noam took the Angel to paradise again, this 
time with him on top and kissing the other man’s mouth, face, shoulders, and neck as 
Noam’s hips violently thrust his cock in and out of the Angel’s asshole until his hips were 
nearly a blur. 

Because Noam had come once before, he could control his impending orgasm. Hell, even 
on a typical day, Noam never failed to drive his lovers into at least three orgasms of their 
own before he unleashed his own climax on them. He might not be a playboy like the 
Angel here, but he had his own reputation as a hard-loving stud too. He wondered 
whether the Angel had heard of Noam’s infamous stamina, proven first when he was 
fourteen and once more two months ago. On his twenty-sixth birthday party two months 
ago, he beat well-known studs like Ian Lawless, Mark Wahlberg, Jay Vockler, and 
Brandon Showalter in a fuck competition that was held behind closed doors with an 
audience of close friends. Each man would have a soft plastic arrow penetrated into his 
asshole for every climax he could bring his partner without coming himself. 

Ian quickly dropped out after eight arrows, Mark and Jay at nine arrows each, and 
Brandon managed to continue until he obtained his fourteenth arrow. But Noam kept 
going even as yet another arrow was shoved up his ass. Sixteen arrows trembled violently 
in Noam’s convulsing asshole as his taut buttocks heaved while his unflagging cock 
moved in and out of his lover’s anus… then seventeen… nineteen… until his lover, a 
yoga instructor named Zenith, screamed that he couldn’t take it anymore. Noam pulled 
his cock out and merely grabbed blindly someone close to him – Zenith’s sister – before 
ramming his come-slicked cock home into her pussy. Twenty-five arrows – Nadia 
couldn’t take it anymore so Noam ruthlessly sodomized her in the ass instead. He came 
hard and exploded deep into her bowels twenty minutes after the fortieth arrow was 
forced into his well-stretched anus. 

Noam didn’t even stop the movement of his hips as he kept fucking his still hard cock 
into Nadia’s ass. “Give me another arrow!” he cried as he sent Nadia into another 
powerful organism. Knowing that she was worn out completely, Noam pulled out to lie 
on his side on the cushions. This time, he didn’t have to ask for someone to replace his 
current worn-out lover. Someone – he didn’t really bother to see who it was – soon had 
his cock sheathed in deep masculine ass. As Noam fucked like the bull he was, the other 
guests were aroused by him into an orgy of hedonistic sexual acts. Even so, they still 
came like they never had before when Noam took anyone who wanted a piece of him. 
Only when the hundredth arrow was forcefully shoved into his obscenely stretched 
asshole that his body couldn’t take it anymore. That one hundredth arrow stretching his 
ass better than any fist he’d ever had sent a final jolt of pleasure like a powerful lightning 
bolt that nearly paralyzes him. He came so hard that his balls hurt from the violent 
emptying.

One hundred arrows – compared to the forty arrows when he was merely fourteen, one 
hundred arrows proved that Noam Jenkins, nicknamed the Archer, had only become better 
with age. 

And lucky Miguel Ángel Silvestre was getting everything that Noam usually reserved 
for… well, the second date at the earliest. Noam didn’t like to take things too fast so 
usually he would go as far as to introduce his cock into the mouth of his date on the first 
night out, preferably before they say goodbye and his date left his car. Noam liked to get 
his dates to savor the taste of his come and the feel of his cock in their mouths during the 
rest of the night and until they meet again, all the better for Noam to introduce his cock 
into the pussy or anus of his date on their subsequent night out. But lucky, lucky the 
Angel, thought Noam sardonically, he was getting the full Noam Jenkins stud service 
barely a minute into their first conversation. 

Noam savagely whispered how lucky the Angel was as he roughly pumped the man as he 
pressed the Angel’s beautifully sculpted body against the wall of the toilet. An elderly 
man entered the bathroom and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of the Angel bent 
over the sink just one foot away from the elderly man and Noam fucking the man so hard 
that the sink rattled with each thrust. A spurt of fluid composed of Noam’s semen and 
Angel’s ass juices squirted from the Angel’s well-packed asshole during one of Noam’s 
particularly violent thrust and hit the man right on the tongue as the man gaped at them. 
“I’ll talk to you about the contract on Monday, Barry!” the Angel called out as the elderly 
man managed to croak out a sound of shock and fled. “Damn you, you’ve lost me a 
contract!” he then told Noam. Noam laughed as he told the Angel that Barry might be 
shocked but he swallowed the fuck juices that landed on his mouth nonetheless. The 
Angel got off Noam’s cock and moved to lock the toilet door. “No more interruptions,” 
the Angel said. “An old schoolteacher is out there.”

Noam laughed, uproariously this time, as he pulled Angel towards him for yet another 
round of energetic fuck. As Angel lay on the floor, on a pool of their clothes stained with 
their sweat and fuck juices, he closed his eyes and pressed his arm against his forehead. 
He happened to glance at his watch and another merry laugh bubbled from his bruised 
and bleeding lips. “We’ve been fucking for five hours!” he told Noam. “I’ve never lasted 
this long before!” As Noam only grinned in response, he asked the man, “Hey, you 
wanna move to some place more comfortable after you come?”

Noam shrugged. A bed would be nice, although what he would do to someone like Angel 
didn’t need anything other than Noam’s hard cock. But he then gasped when he felt 
Angel’s muscular anal passage tighten around his penis. Wow, what kind of sexual trick 
this was, he had never experienced it before but he liked it, Noam decided as he now 
moaned in pleasure. His overly-sensitized cock wasn’t just being gripped by tight ass, 
that ass was actually massaging Noam’s fleshy shaft. The best way Noam could describe 
this situation was that it was as if a warm fleshy sheath was coating his cock like second 
skin and then someone’s hand massaged Noam’s cock, starting from the base and teasing 
him upwards along the shaft all the way to the head, that hand kneading and pressing 
tightly on Noam’s cock before easing the pressure that was building up in that cock. It 
was an incredible feeling! He was being milked by an exceptionally talented ass. Noam’s 
bloated sperm-filled balls tightened in anticipation of another rush of ejaculation as 
powerful shards of ecstasy cut through Noam’s senses like sharp jagged glass. His spine 
was on fire, the base of his spine feeling like a furnace waiting to explode. The Angel 
arched his back and screamed as Noam’s savage cock action sent his burning prostate 
over the edge and his body experienced yet another powerful orgasm. 

Something tightened so powerfully around Noam’s cock that he gave an answering shout 
to the Angel’s screams of pleasure. The blood coursing through the thick veins and 
arteries of his cock was a raging and unstoppable flood, making Noam feel like he was 
about to burst as his cock hardened to the point that those blood vessels felt like bursting. 
His seminal tubes burned as his buttocks clenched. The dam in his balls broke and Noam 
groaned triumphantly as his semen bloated his seminal tubes, the friction of his boiling 
fuck cream on full speed surge against the sensitive walls of the tube causing his lower 
body to burn with ecstasy. And then the inferno spread along his shaft, burning across the 
length as his powerful ejaculate bloat and stretch the urethra, causing his cock to become 
rock hard as a result. And then the head of his cock was on fire. The wide slit of his cock 
head seemed to be forcefully split wider open as Noam thrust harder into the Angel in 
shallow rapid hip motions in anticipation of the inevitable glorious ecstasy that will 
come. And then Noam was there – he gritted his teeth to prevent the triumphant howl 
from fully escaping from his lips as powerful surges after surges of tidal waves of virile 
come erupted into the Angel, causing Noam to join the other man to be completely lost in 
their intimate climax. 

He had just gotten his breathing under control when the Angel kissed him. Oh, that was 
right, they hadn’t even kissed properly yet, Noam realized and set about to rectify this 
oversight. He parted his lips and was somewhat surprised when the Angel’s tongue 
aggressively moved in to explore every inch of Noam’s mouth and even his throat. He let 
his own tongue respond with an aggressive dance of seductive exploration of its own. 
Soon their tongues were rubbing against each other as they moaned and tasted their sex in 
each other’s mouth. He was so lost in the sensual kiss that he was only aware that their 
bodies had instinctively moved to once again become one when their lower bodies began 
moving in the same dance that their tongues are performing. 

The party was long over when they opened the toilet door and the lights were out. Not 
bothering to dress, they laughed and ran to the Angel’s Jaguar, stopping along the way to 
kiss and touch each other’s body. One time, they got so carried away that once again 
Noam’s cock found its way up into the Angel’s well-used ass. Noam hoped that the 
owner of the black Mercedes in the car park wouldn’t be too upset by the stains left on 
the hood. 

When they finally collapsed into the Angel’s bed, Noam wanted to do so much more but 
his body was so close to breaking point that the moment his nude body touched the bed, 
he could only hold the Angel in his arms as he drifted off to sleep. 


FOUR

It was tough being Miguel Silvestre’s fuck buddy. Noam wasn’t complaining, of course, 
since the sex was unbelievably good. In the one week he had been fucking his Angel, his 
body felt like it had survived a long boxing match, for he was so bruised and sore from 
the effort of indulging his every desire as well as his Angel’s. His Angel. Funny how 
easily he began to consider Miguel as his Angel. He didn’t even realize when he started 
referring to the Angel as his. 

But tonight he had to put all thoughts of his Angel out of his head. He had to stop feeling 
vaguely guilty about lying to his Angel about working at his company when he was in 
fact trying to nail that son of a bitch who was killing every sorry low life fuck that stayed 
too long in this part of town. In fact, word around the underground was that every low 
life who could afford hired guns had increased the number of their bodyguards while 
those who couldn’t or who were too sensible to care for their lives had fled. Someone 
was killing them. In one week, five men had died the same way that Candor Mitchell did 
– perplexingly large number of poisonous snake bites along one’s throat, esophagus, and 
anus. Normally Noam would give this killer a medal but he didn’t like being cheated on 
his own vengeance. He had to find a way to meet this killer and tell that fucker to back 
off. 

As much as he wanted to temporarily put Miguel out of his mind, he couldn’t help 
recalling Miguel’s laughter in his mind. They were surprisingly well at ease with each 
other outside the bedroom, Noam realized. If he was a normal guy with normal 
ambitions, he might be tempted to see if he and Miguel could work something out 
together. It was just sex, he told himself now, but a treacherous part of his mind only 
reminded him of how much he enjoyed having Angel telling him over dinner how the 
man’s day had been. That treacherous mind of his replayed how much they had fun 
taking that walk down the streets two evenings ago. They just talked about nothing as 
they walked with no particular destination in mind, until they learned that they actually 
had many things in common such as a mutual love for Bruce Springsteen and Eric 
Clapton. How they had laughed and argued until somehow the very comfortable ease 
they had with each other blossomed into desire! And how they raced each other to his 
Angel’s penthouse block and, after a frenzied quickie in the elevator, they fucked in his 
Angel’s bed with familiar urgency and desire that were enhanced by an exciting element 
of newness. Noam wondered whether he would ever discover what this newness was. He 
suspected that a part of him already knew the nature of that newness. He just wasn’t sure 
whether he was ready to acknowledge that he and his Angel were heading towards.

The harsh sound of his tracker beeping to life interrupted his reverie. Noam looked down 
at the monitor and smiled harshly. His target was on the move. So would he, then. Noam 
began running along the rooftop, picking up speed until he was all but a blur. He reached 
the edge of the rooftop and without hesitation jumped. He landed on the rooftop of the 
building across the street without missing a beat or a step despite the distance separating 
the two buildings. The night moon shone brightly in the clear night sky as Noam began 
his hunt.




There was an audible click of a gun as Miguel opened the door of his penthouse. His 
blood was running high and he was feeling good from the kill, Noam thought as he 
pointed his silencer at the man who had taken his cock and made him feel like he had no 
idea where up or down was anymore. “Good evening, my Angel dear,” he said, surprised 
that his voice was calm.

Then again, he was calm. Perhaps he should be hysterical or worried that he was going 
crazy. But he was as calm as he could be, as if he had just received some mundane news 
instead of the evidence that his Angel was a fucking liar. 

His Angel shut the door behind him. Miguel, his lying Angel, merely removed his coat 
and was about to loosen his tie when Noam made a sound warning the man to step into 
the light. With his other hand, Noam picked up the remote control and switched on the 
TV and DVD player. “I went to a warehouse today looking for a popular drug dealer who 
has just set up shop. There’s a new drug, simply called Pop, which is very popular. Have 
you tried it? It is supposed to make you so fucking high it’s better than sex. It will kill 
you too, that Pop. Anyway, I paid Ernie a visit but again I was too late. Too fucking late, 
my Angel!” He tried to calm down. “And we both know why.”

He had tried to watch the tape a million times while waiting for Miguel to return, each 
time willing himself to wake up and realize that he was just having a nightmare. He 
watched Miguel as the man looked impassively at the TV. Noam could see in his mind 
what Miguel was seeing: Ernie in his pants and nothing else cutting up the rocks, his 
Angel showing up at the door, and those two men kissed passionately before Noam 
switched off the TV and wanted to smash his fist through the TV screen. As he had a 
million times before, he switched off the TV. 

In deadly grace he had perfected, he was on his feet and in front of Miguel before Miguel 
could blink. His fist backhanded Miguel so hard that there was a loud and terrifying crack 
of bones colliding hard with bones. A warm arc of blood landed in a streak on the 
polished marble floor as Miguel crashed against the far wall hard. 

“I suggest you keep watching, Noam,” Miguel said, his voice calm, as he got back on his 
feet. “Or will jealousy be preferable to the truth? Or –”  Here, Miguel smiled wanly. Was 
he afraid? – “are you afraid that you cannot handle the truth?”

Noam moved to switch the TV back on. 

“I love you, Noam.”

Noam’s frustration and fury welled up inside. “Shut up,” he snarled. Furiously, he tried to 
blink so that his tears wouldn’t fall. It hurt, it fucking hurt like he had never felt before 
and all his discipline didn’t prepare him for agony of this magnitude. 

“Please, forget that tape. Let us be like we were,” Miguel said. Oh, was he begging now? 
He looked pained, even afraid to Noam. Noam looked in the far mirror on the wall and 
saw his face. He turned back to Noam and saw his own fear and pain reflected on his 
Angel’s face. No, not his Angel anymore – Miguel wasn’t his Angel, never was. 

“You’re with them! You’re a spy for them. You set me up, didn’t you?” Noam said, 
trying desperately to keep his turbulent emotions in check. 

“Watch the tape, then,” Miguel whispered and closed his eyes. 

Noam was puzzled by Miguel’s abrupt change of stance, from pleading to resignation. 
Miguel merely rubbed his hands over his face as Noam carefully picked up the remote 
while keeping an eye on the man. He switched on the TV and resume playing the DVD. 
Because Noam was a stranger to feelings since that day when he vowed never to feel 
anything again, he couldn’t keep his well-honed instincts together. 

A part of him later would remember the words of the Chinese martial arts expert Tsu 
Jienn whom he had studied with years ago, on the day when Noam had finally overtaken 
the master in the art of the fists as well as in sex. “Never love,” the elderly man had told 
Noam as he watched Noam pull on his briefs. Noam, only eighteen then, had finished 
fucking Tsu Jienn one last time. 

Yesterday, he had defeated Tsu Jienn in unarmed combat ten minutes into their training. 
Later that night, Tsu Jienn admitted in between gasps as Noam fucked him that none of 
his disciples had defeated him before, much less doing it ten minutes into the sparring 
after only slightly more than a year in training.  Tsu Jienn told Noam now, “Love will 
make you forget everything you’ve learned because the heart is more powerful than the 
strongest desire for vengeance or hatred.” 

At that time, Noam thought that eleven hours of hard fucking had addled the old man’s 
mind. In his youth, he was impetuous enough to assume that he knew more than anyone 
else. Too cocky in his sexual prowess, he never realized Tsu Jienn was so infatuated with 
his skills in pugilism and his beauty that the elderly man broke his vow of celibacy and 
seduced Noam three days into their training. He boned Tsu Jienn as often as he could 
when he wasn’t training because he didn’t have anything better to do. So he merely 
shrugged, finished pulling on his clothes, and told the man, “Thanks for everything, 
Master Tsu. I’ll make you proud of me.” He then left without a backward glance, 
onwards to learning more skills that he could use to hone his quest for vengeance, never 
knowing that he had broken Tsu Jienn’s heart and more. 

Noam realized too late the warning in Tsu Jienn’s words now as he felt this overpowering 
urge to stop watching Miguel and stared instead at the TV, hoping that somehow he 
would learn that his Angel was really his and he had just misunderstood the situation. But 
a wounded sob was wrenched from him when he saw how Miguel and Ernie kissed and 
touched each other until both of them were naked. Ernie sat up at the table and spread his 
legs obscenely. Angel stepped between them, his back to the camera. Noam silently 
gasped when his jealousy turned into shock when Ernie suddenly twitched in Miguel’s 
embrace. Miguel kissed Ernie and there was no mistaking the thrust of his hips between 
Ernie’s legs, but Ernie was acting as if he was in pain. After a few seconds, Miguel broke 
the embrace and stepped back. Ernie fell back onto the table, looking as if he was dead.

He was. Noam found the man’s naked body in that condition when he broke into the 
warehouse and, after careful search of the perimeter, discovered this carefully hidden 
video camera that taped everything that happened between Ernie and his killer. 

“You killed him.” Noam ran his hand wearily through his hair, forgetting completely that 
he had dropped his silencer onto the floor. He was confused. “How…?” 

“It’s best you don’t know, Noam,” said Miguel quietly.

Noam turned to look at the man. Miguel blanched and looked away. Noam didn’t blame 
the man. He probably looked like hell. How had this happen? When Miguel told him 
those beautiful three words, Noam knew even as the fact calcified in his heart that he 
loved Miguel, his Angel, back. He probably was in love the moment his cock found its 
way into Miguel’s ass for the first time. Noam was no philosopher – he didn’t really 
know when or why he fell in love with his Angel, he was a man of action so he only 
knew how to act on his feelings. 

“Why do you kill these people?” Noam had to know.

“The same reason you want to kill them.” Miguel licked his dry lips nervously. “Only, I 
kill them because I don’t want you to lose your soul to the darkness in you.”

Noam shook his head in confusion. “Who are you? How the hell do you know about 
me?”

“I don’t know you when I started hunting,” Miguel explained. “I’m like you, Noam. We 
take down these bastards when the law won’t touch them. And yes, I know about your 
reputation. Only, I don’t know about you being that vigilante until I started knowing you 
better and realized just how alike we are.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you know? We could have worked together,” Noam asked. 

“We can’t be together, Noam,” Miguel said bleakly. “I’m lost. I’ve surrendered to the 
darkness in my soul. You still have a chance. You’re doing what you do for vengeance, 
which I can tell you right now is the wrong thing to do.” He leaned with his back against 
the wall and looked at Noam with a look of such despair that Noam took an instinctive 
step forward to take Miguel in his arms. “No, don’t come closer. Look, let me show you 
what vengeance has made me.”

Noam didn’t know how he could witness what happened next without losing his sanity, 
but he suspected that it was because he loved Miguel. Irrationally, perhaps, to the point 
that nothing could kill his love once that feeling grew and took seed in his heart, but he 
loved Miguel come what may. So he watched, not even making a sound. 

Miguel opened his mouth wide. There was a soft tearing sound as his mouth continued to 
open wider, his jaw lowering to the point of dislocation. The man lowered his head, 
mouth still opened wide. Noam watched, transfixed, as the head of a snake appeared from 
Miguel’s mouth. He watched as more and more of the snake slithered out of Miguel’s 
mouth. Noam could even see the ripples along Miguel’s neck as the muscles 
accommodated the passage of the snake until with a wet sickening plop, a snake of about 
ten feet in length dropped from Miguel’s mouth onto the floor. 





FIVE

“I am the snakes,” Miguel said. “They are a part of me. My body is human apart from the 
fact that…” He closed his eyes and shuddered, as if the very act of describing his very 
being repulsed him. “My father once hired… someone to examine me. After doing some 
scans, he concluded that while I have the usual organs needed for me to function, 
thousands, maybe millions, of snakes live inside my body in an unnatural manner. I can 
control them to do anything I want… even kill.”

His explanation was interrupted with a gasp of surprise from him when Noam took the 
man in his arms and held Miguel tight in a comforting muscular embrace. “How did this 
happen, my Angel?” Noam whispered into Miguel’s ear.

“I don’t know. My grandmother said it was a curse of the family. Something about an 
ancestor of mine abusing his slaves until a Haitian voodoo shaman cursed him to become 
an embodiment of his sins, I think. My ancestor killed himself to escape the wrath of the 
shaman so lucky me, the curse lived on through me. One of my uncles suffered from the 
same condition and he killed himself because he couldn’t live with the horror that he had 
become. So the curse somehow ended on me. When I was born, they said that I was 
crying and instead of tears, small black snakes were slithering from my eyes.” Miguel 
took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I can’t take the easy way out and die because the 
curse will just move on to someone in the next generation. I need to find a way to break 
the curse. Maybe by doing good things and ridding the world of evil, I can break the 
curse. I can be normal again.”

Noam knew he shocked Miguel by laughing but he couldn’t help him. His laughter was 
genuine and free, light because he felt the weight of his fear about losing Miguel and 
living with the fear that nothing they had was real lifting off his shoulders. “Is that all?” 
Noam asked Miguel, even teasing the man. “Well then, we can break the curse together.”

“You don’t…?”

“Fear you? Hate you?” Noam shook his head. “You’re my Angel. Will you hurt me?”

“No,” Miguel said. “These snakes are me. They won’t hurt you because I won’t hurt 
you.”

The snake slithered up Noam’s leg, as if to make a point. Noam lifted a wary hand to 
gently touch the snake’s head. The snake blinked at Noam before resuming its slow 
slithery exploration up Noam’s leg. It’s a pretty big snake, Noam thought. 

“What are you doing?” Miguel started to ask.

“Hey, just relax,” Noam told him as he reached down to unbuckle his belt.

Careful so as to not to startle the snake unnecessarily, Noam kicked off his pants until he 
was wearing only his jockstrap. He then pulled his shirt off. He rested his back against 
the wall and folded his arms behind his head. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips as he 
felt the weight of the snake on his fast hardening cock. The snake’s slithering rubbed his 
cock against his balls and left thigh, causing his cock to throb with pleasure. It now 
moves up Noam’s bare torso, the scales on its body teasing his nipples to the point that he 
was sure that Miguel was deliberately making that snake torture him in this manner. The 
snake was now coiled around Noam’s neck and it now slowly made its way back down 
Noam’s body. Noam pushed the waistband of his jockstrap down so that his cock could 
spring free and expand to its impressive dimensions freely. “Oh yes,” he murmured when 
the snake let its tongue flicker and tease Noam’s sensitive cock head. He moaned louder 
when the snake began coiling around that cock. Even with the snake’s girth, the crown of 
Noam’s cock was still visible despite the snake having entwined its serpentine length 
around the thick penis three times. 

The snake began slowly constricting Noam’s cock just enough to exert a firm pressure to 
make Noam moan in delight before easing up on that cock. It didn’t take long before a 
powerful spurt of come gushed forward from Noam’s cock slit. Miguel opened his mouth 
and made a sound of delight when he managed to catch the first potent rush of ejaculate 
from Noam’s dick. He lowered his head to capture more of Noam’s semen as appetizer 
until he was hungrily sucking Noam dry. 

Noam watched, fascinated, as Miguel pushed down his pants and kicked them off. The 
snake slowly slithered off Noam’s muscular body towards Miguel. An erotic moan 
vibrated through Noam as he licked his dry lips and stared as the snake pushed its head 
between the tight folds of Miguel’s anal entrance. Noam raised his body, wanting to see 
more. The snake pushed its head between the tight pucker, causing Miguel to visibly 
tremble in pleasure. “Shit, Miguel!” Noam said in wonder as he watched the snake slowly 
slither back into its home in Miguel’s body, its long sinewy form slowly disappearing 
into that man’s ass. His hips thrust hungrily into Miguel’s mouth as his lust moved into 
overdrive. His own snake was bursting to follow that snake up Miguel’s ass so he gently 
rubbed Miguel’s shoulders and asked the man to let him fuck his ass. 

This fuck was especially wild. Noam thought he would go out of his mind from 
indescribable ecstasy when, upon his urging, Miguel demonstrated how he killed the 
others. As Noam fucked Miguel doggy-style, they both watched in the mirror as Miguel 
demonstrated one other orifice that his snakes could use as a gate to the outside world 
(Miguel never let his snakes use his ears since he’d like to keep his eardrums intact). As 
Miguel gripped the frame of the wall-length mirror with both his hands as he tried to keep 
his balance with each thrust of hard virile cock up his ass from behind, his own cock 
throbbed and then swelled to an unnatural degree. With a wild cry, Miguel coaxed forth a 
thick snake that slithered out of Miguel’s obscenely stretched cock slit. However, this 
time around it was the tail that emerged first from Miguel’s gruesomely bloated cock that 
stretched its unnaturally elastic muscles to accommodate the passage of the snake. It was 
a snake that Noam could recognize from its color and tail. He licked his lips and kissed 
Miguel hard on the shoulders and neck as he whispered, his voice harsh from his 
increasingly feverish lust, “Do it!” 

Noam threw his head back and arched his body as pleasure-pain seized hold of his body 
the moment the tail of the rattlesnake forcefully penetrates his asshole. This caused him 
to thrust especially hard and deep into Miguel, causing the pleasure pooling in Miguel’s 
body to explode into a powerful climax that shook him to the core. Stretched wide in the 
ass, Noam felt his urgent desire rise to a feverish pitch that saw him brutally raping 
Miguel like a madman while Miguel screamed for more. Noam felt the thick form of the 
rattlesnake slowly withdrawing from his ass and he instinctively tightened his anal hold 
on it. When the snake began teasing him by moving its length in and out of Noam’s 
steaming asshole, Noam couldn’t hold on to his vaunted control for long. It was only ten 
minutes or so of hard ass fucking before he noisily emptied his balls of their huge load 
into Miguel. 

Now that he knew that he was sticking his cock into an ass filled with the most poisonous 
snakes in existence, he grinned at the thought of his load drenching those poor unnatural 
fuckers in the eye. Those snakes didn’t seem to mind though as Noam felt them coiling 
around his cock that was still buried deep in Miguel’s anal passage and teased him with 
their playful constrictions. 

“I love you in this form,” Noam told the other man. He playfully caressed Miguel’s cock, 
enjoying the fascinating feel of the python withdrawing itself back into its home through 
Miguel’s urethra. When the snake has completely withdrawn, Miguel’s cock was back to 
its natural half-flaccid size. Noam had to take that cock in his mouth to savor the erotic 
sight he had just witnessed. He finally remembered that he was supposed to talking to 
Miguel once he had swallowed every drop Miguel had to give. 

“You really love me?” Miguel asked hopefully.

“Oh, yeah!” Noam said happily as he playfully pulled back an errant dark curl that had 
fallen over Miguel’s forehead. “Just imagine, my Angel, you and me, a team.” He 
frowned as a thought struck him. “I don’t want you to fucking those bastards, though, 
even if it’s just to stick a snake up their ass,” he told the man. “The only ass your snake 
will explore is mine. Deal?”

“Deal,” Miguel told him and pulled him down for a kiss. 

Noam’s cock throbbed back to life as he moves to cover Miguel’s body with his own. He 
heard a hiss of a snake as he hungrily kissed Miguel. While he would have been paranoid 
and suspicious only a week ago, now he thought he couldn’t think of much sweeter music 
to his ears. 






EPILOGUE

Tsu Jienn passed away sometime after dawn seven days after Noam’s first anniversary 
with Miguel. Noam was there by Tsu Jienn’s side when the elderly man died. 

Noam Jenkins wanted to meet Tsu Jienn again and express his gratitude to that man for his 
wise words and his sincere grief that he was too stupid to appreciate Tsu Jienn back then. 
While he loathed to be separated from Miguel, they both knew he had to make this 
pilgrimage on his own. With Miguel’s blessing, Noam honored his old master by giving 
Tsu Jienn the highest and most intimate form of respect a student could give an esteemed 
master. 

As he kissed his master’s lips, he whispered to Tsu Jienn how he had learned to channel 
his need for vengeance into a more selfless form of crusade: he wanted to help those who 
need aid with the skills he had at his command. As he slowly mounted Tsu Jienn from 
behind, he managed to tell the elderly wise man about his dreams and hopes in life, his 
love for Miguel Ángel Silvestre, and how they would both make Tsu Jienn proud. The 
night turned into morning as Noam continued giving Tsu Jienn what the wise man 
wanted. Noam’s cock rarely left Tsu Jienn’s body. Even when they bathed in the river 
every morning, Noam would tenderly wash his master clean while his cock continued its 
expert strokes. In the night, Tsu Jienn had no need of blankets over his frail body because 
Noam’s heated sweaty skin was all he needed while the man’s molten sex fluids suffused 
Tsu Jienn’s body with soothing warmth.  

Days passed as the student and the master lived in their private world of unbridled bliss. 
Tsu Jienn’s moans of pleasure blended melodiously with Noam’s lower growls of 
ecstasy. The sounds of wet flesh mating feverishly echoed in Tsu Jienn’s cave as 
relentlessly as the constant cock action of Noam as his thick cock speared in and out of 
Tsu Jienn’s heated asshole and mouth. Every surface in the cave, from the floor to the 
mattress to the table, constantly glistened with pools of come and even a little blood that 
kept dripping from Tsu Jienn’s constantly packed ass as they constantly fucked anywhere 
and everywhere the moment their lust flared anew. 

It was shortly after dawn, one week and one year from the night when Noam’s cock first 
sheathed itself in his true love’s ass, when Tsu Jienn looked straight into Noam’s eyes 
and said weakly, “Thank you, my student. Thank you, Noam Jenkins.” Tsu Jienn then 
gasped in his final sexual climax. Noam didn’t grieve. He held his master close as he 
moaned and thrust his cock hard into Tsu Jienn’s asshole, moved beyond words that Tsu 
Jienn’s final sensation in life was Noam’s potent seed, full of life and vigor, warming and 
flooding the dying old man’s rectum and anus to the point of overflow. 

He completed his honoring of Tsu Jienn by rubbing his cock until he spewed a load over 
the man’s face and into the man’s lifeless mouth. Only after the last drop of semen had 
fallen into Tsu Jienn’s mouth did Noam notice movement between Tsu Jienn’s sperm-
smeared thighs. As Noam watched, a thick black snake slowly pushed itself out of Tsu 
Jienn’s ass, covered with a thick creamy coating of the copious amount of come Noam 
had shot into his late master’s ass. A rebirth, Noam thought as he watched the snake 
disappear into the bushes. Or, he mused, perhaps, a birth of a new life.

With his bare hands, he dug a grave for his master that he respected too late and a 
tombstone he made from a chisel to honor the man’s memories.

A day later, he was at the airport waiting for his flight to take him back to America, 
back… home – home, where Miguel was. There were so much he and Miguel wanted to 
do, a new life filled with new adventures for the both of them. Noam couldn’t wait to 
start living again. 

