No one can save her now.

Click. Click. Click.

With a wet GULP, it finally managed to swallow her immense bosom. It was both an arousing and yet sad sight; knowing that the photographer would be the last to see them and the snake the last to touch them. A real shame, though their magnificence would live on in my photos. The hardest past now finished, the snake eased itself onto the soft grass to finish its meal in a more leisurely pace. The bride sensed that it was all over now, but for her waist and legs, and those it would have no trouble with. Her struggles slowed, almost stopped; her hands clenching and unclenching at the turf as her legs twitched occasionally. I lamented that she still had her dress on. The photographer would have loved to get a few shots of her stocking-clad legs sliding into the serpent's throat; he had gotten a few good peeks as her legs kicked wildly before, but now that she had slowed her struggling, her trailing dress hid her hips, ass, and legs. As shes dragged across the grass the diamond ring slips from her finger as she barely struggles you can make out her rough outline pressed against the snake's side.

Click. Click.

A few last shots as she finishes her short journey towards the snake's stomach. The last is of her feet just before they disappear into its throat. He watches as she slowly slides deeper into the animal's body, her whimpers barely audible through its flesh. The ring, shining among the grass, makes for a tempting memento.

The photographer can't help laugh to himself as he watches the snake slither away with its plump dinner still squirming deep in its stomach. As he makes his way back up the hill towards the reception hall he turns to watch the snake slowly submerge back into the lake for a moment he thought he could hear the brides muffled screams most likely in fear and frustration.