I BOUGHT A FRANCHISE THAT SELLS VERY SALTY MEAT AND DISCOVERED THE TERRIFYING TRUTH BEHIND THE OVERLY SEASONED SALT
The Sea Snake Behind My Franchise: A Confession of Power, Salt, and Desire
I never thought I would write this. No one knows, and if they did, the franchise would collapse overnight. People see the long lines, the glowing reviews, the addictive flavor of the meat. They think it’s skill, marketing, or a perfect recipe. They don’t know the truth. And I cannot hide it anymore.
The meat… the saltiness… it’s not just seasoning. It comes from him. The snake.
When I bought the franchise, I was told it came with a blessing—success in every branch. I didn’t know the blessing was alive, shimmering, and waiting beneath the counters. He is from the sea, a creature older and more cunning than anyone could imagine.
The ritual begins quietly, late at night when the restaurant is empty. I prepare the meat for the next day, sprinkling it with water drawn from the ocean where he sleeps. I cut the meat and place it near the tank where he coils, shimmering in saltwater that smells like brine and danger. I whisper the old words, calling him to awaken, offering him pieces of the meat as a symbol of loyalty and respect.
At first, it was just business magic. The restaurant flourished. Customers kept coming back, addicted to the salt, craving the meat in ways I cannot explain. Every satisfied diner feeds him, strengthens him, and in turn, strengthens me. I became rich. I became powerful. The franchise grew beyond anything I could imagine. My name was known. My wealth was admired.
But then… he came to me. Not like a human, but like a force that consumes. He wraps around me when I sleep, pressing against me, filling me with desires I never knew I had. I feel him bending my body, reshaping my urges, turning me into someone… else. I am no longer just a man. I am a vessel.
Every night, I surrender. I feel him coil, press, and whisper. I taste what he tastes, feel what he feels, crave what he craves. I am addicted, terrified, and powerless. And yet, every morning, I slice meat that tastes saltier than ever. Every diner who leaves satisfied fuels him, fuels me, fuels the success of the franchise.
Sometimes, I lie awake and wonder what my life would have been like without him. Would I be free? Would I still crave men in ways I never imagined? Would my nights be my own? I cannot know. The snake has changed me, body and soul. Even now, I feel a shiver when I think of him, a shiver that is both fear and longing.
The ritual is complete only when the restaurant is alive. The snake waits for me under the counters, coiled and shimmering, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. I must offer him meat, chant the words, and allow him to claim me before dawn. If I refuse, the meat loses its magic. The customers leave unsatisfied. The salt no longer calls. And I… I would lose everything.
I have tried to resist him, to run from the desires he awakens in me. But the more I resist, the more insistent he becomes. Every touch, every glance, every movement of his scales against the tank pulls me back. He whispers promises and threats, pleasure and punishment intertwined. I cannot escape. I do not want to.
I hate this. I fear it. And yet I crave it. Without him, I am powerless. Without the sea snake, the franchise is just another restaurant. But with him… with him, I hold a secret no one can touch, a magic no one can resist. I have been changed. My desires, my body, my very soul belong to him. And the more I give, the more the franchise thrives.
I have become both master and slave. The restaurant is mine, but so is he. Every day, I serve salty meat. Every night, I surrender to the snake. Every coin, every craving, every shiver of desire fuels the ritual. I am trapped, addicted, transformed—and I cannot stop. The sea snake owns me. And the world eats what he creates.
Sometimes, late at night, I look around the empty restaurant and whisper to him, telling him I hate what he’s done to me. And he hisses back, a sound that is part laughter, part warning. I shiver, knowing he is right. He will not let me go. I am his. The restaurant is his. The salt, the meat, the craving—it all belongs to him.
I have no idea how long this will last. Days, months, years—it all blurs together now. But I know one thing: I could never give it up, even if I wanted to. He has become part of me, part of the restaurant, part of the very magic that keeps this franchise alive. And I… I am powerless to resist him.
The sea snake has claimed me, body and soul. And the world, unknowingly, feasts on the magic he creates.
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