I MARRIED A WEALTHY MAN WHO TURNS INTO A SNAKE DURING INTIMACY AND I FAINT EVERYTIME

I MARRIED A WEALTHY MAN WHO TURNS INTO A SNAKE DURING INTIMACY AND I FAINT EVERYTIME 

I Married a Wealthy Man Who Turns Into a Huge Snake During Intimacy

When I first met my husband, I thought my prayers had been answered. He was handsome, well-spoken, and his wealth was something out of a dream. Within months of knowing him, I was living the kind of life most women can only imagine—expensive cars, designer clothes, and a mansion so big it could swallow the houses I grew up in. To everyone else, I was the perfect bride with a perfect life.

But no one knew what really happened when the gates closed behind that mansion. No one knew the dark truth I discovered on our wedding night.

That night, instead of finding comfort in my new husband’s arms, I found horror. As soon as we became intimate, his body began to change. His warm skin turned cold, his breath hissed against my ear, and before I could move, his tongue split into two. I watched his body grow, stretch, and turn into a huge snake right on top of me. My screams stuck in my throat. He held me down with his serpent body and whispered that if I ever tried to run, I would lose everything—even my life.

From that day, I stopped being a wife and became a prisoner in my own home. Yes, I had wealth, but I also had nightmares that never ended. By day, he was the perfect husband, spoiling me with diamonds and cars. By night, he became something from the underworld.

And as if that was not enough, he has another ritual that still haunts me. Behind our mansion, there is a huge dam surrounded by trees so thick that no sunlight reaches inside. Every month, when I am on my periods, he forces me to swim in that dam at midnight. He stands at the edge, watching me, chanting in a language I don’t understand. The water is freezing and heavy, like it’s pulling me under, and I come out trembling and weak. To this day, I still don’t know why he does that. I only know that I am not allowed to refuse.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize myself anymore. My smile is gone, my eyes carry secrets that I cannot share. Friends think I am living the dream, but they don’t see the scars—scars not just on my body but deep in my soul. I can’t talk to my family because they would never believe me. Who would? Who would believe that the man I married is not fully human, that his wealth is tied to darkness, and that I am trapped in his rituals?

I try to pray, but even prayer feels heavy in this house. The walls feel like they are watching me, the silence carries whispers, and the dam behind the mansion calls me every month like it owns a part of me.

I don’t know if I will ever escape this life. Sometimes I wonder if my story will end with me disappearing into that dam, my body swallowed by the same darkness that feeds his wealth.

For now, all I can do is carry this secret, and write it here—hoping that maybe someone will read and understand.