Lair of the Snake Demon

Over the following years, the legend had grown. Foolhardy folks had begun to venture into the mountains just for a glimpse of the beast. And once more sightings had been reported, the focus had turned to slaying such a monstrous creature. Those who undertook such a quest rarely returned, and those who did, did so with ashen faces and a penchant for drinking their following days away in the taverns. As the number of those lost to the beast grew, fewer and fewer people in the area set off to kill the creature. Instead, those passing through would venture into the mountains, looking for glory or potential treasure. But every so often, one of the villages would produce a few more foolhardy folks of their own.

Roderick and Oliver were two such foolhardy folks, having grown up hearing stories of the beast. Willem was a few years younger than them but had already developed a reputation as a skilled hunter and tracker. So, when the duo had decided to search out and kill the demon, they had recruited him. Santi, who had arrived in their village a few months before, spending most of that time either in one of the taverns or in the brothel, had befriended the duo, and so had been recruited as well. None of the three were friends of Willem's, even if they were on good terms.

So, he found himself lacking in sorrow for Santi and Roderick, even as Oliver cradled the latter's corpse. The quartet had ventured into the demon's lair, its home, its private space, and it was perfectly justified in dealing with them however it saw fit.

Movement came from the far end of the chamber.

The demon slipped from a hole in a wall, slithering agilely towards them.

Willem watched it come, his eyes widening with wonder, his heart racing with excitement.

The snake demon was long and well-muscled. Its hide shone a brilliant mix of green and gold green on top, with dull yellow the color on the bottom. As it surged closer, its powerful arms gathered a few rocks, and launched the makeshift projectiles towards him. He dodged easily, keeping his eyes fixed on its sinuous figure, its rippling muscles, its glimmering scales.

"Get down!" Oliver cried, grabbing him by the shoulder, yanking him away.

"It's amazing..." Willem murmured, watching the majestic beast bear down on them.

He felt Oliver move, and peeked over his shoulder just in time to see an arrow fly from his bow.

The first missed, but the second, released right after the first, struck true, hitting the demon in its midsection. It jerked in surprise, a screech of pain making him wince.

Willem watched the demon whip around a nearby rock, and come smoothly around it, still headed straight at them. His breath caught in his throat at the magnificence of its figure, the power, the swiftness, the agility, the sheer strangeness of the reptilian lower body melded with a definitively humanoid body further up. And although its face was drawn in an expression of rage and pain, he found only the slightest fear in gazing at its countenance.

He felt Oliver move again and glanced over to see him aiming another arrow.

"Wait, no!" he cried, throwing his arm out.

The arrow released just as he smacked the bow off-target.

Pain seared across his hand from the arrow slicing over it. The arrow flew uselessly, well off-target.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Oliver shouted.

Before he could answer, Oliver shouldered him away, and nocked another arrow.

But Willem had, not intentionally, distracted him long enough to let the demon get close.

Before he could bring the bow up, the demon knocked it aside, and grabbed him by the midsection. Powerful jaws locked onto the junction of his shoulder and neck and bit down. Oliver grunted weakly. Blood cascaded from the wound. The demon growled around its mouthful and tore off a large chunk of flesh, letting go at the same time. Oliver fell backwards, twitching helplessly before quickly dying.

Willem watched with wide eyes, still not quite fearful, even as the demon fixed its gaze on him, licking its lips to collect the smattering of blood there. His sword hung still sheathed at his hip, and he made no move to draw it. Fear lurked beneath the surface of his emotions, but it was held at bay by his curiosity and excitement.

The demon's glittering eyes did not move from him. The rage and pain that had been there receded slightly, replaced steadily by interest and suspicion.

"You should be running," it spoke then, the softness of its voice surprising him.

"You would catch me easily," he replied, eyes still wide.

The demon approached him, moving slowly and intently. He craned his neck to look up at it, maintaining eye contact as much as possible.

"Why did you do that?" it asked next.

"Do what?"

"Why did you stop him from shooting at me?"

"I...didn't want him to kill you. I didn't come here to kill you."

"Everyone does. Why didn't you?"

He hesitated.

"I...I've heard all the stories about you. And I...just wanted to see you, I guess. To see the legendary snake demon."

The demon hissed sharply, but there was an unmistakable amusement now in its eyes.

"Is that what they're calling me?"

He nodded.

"Yes."

"And what do you think?"

The rage and pain and even suspicion in its eyes was receding further, replaced by more amusement and interest.

"About what?"

"About the legendary snake demon. You've seen me. What do you think?"

"You're incredible."

It drew back in surprise, blinking at his quick response.

"I...you think I'm incredible?"

He nodded.

"I just wanted to catch a glimpse of you."

"And you're...not afraid right now? I could kill you in so many ways."

"Then why haven't you?"

"I wanted to know why you stopped your friend from shooting me."

"He wasn't really my friend. I knew him, but we weren't close. You killed him, yes, but we're in your lair. If someone broke into his home, he would react in the same way. No one would blame him."

It cocked its head.

"You're still in my lair."

"I know. Like I said, I just wanted to catch a glimpse of you. I've heard so many stories, but I always imagined that you were only so vicious and terrible because everyone kept coming after you. That's why I'm not afraid. I'm not trying to kill you, so there's no reason for you to kill me."

"But you still came into my lair. The reason doesn't matter. You are trespassing."

He hesitated again, but there was no anger in those eyes.

"I just wanted to see you," he said lamely.

"I'm no spectacle for you to gawk at, just as I'm no beast to be hunted."

He found himself filled with a sudden guilt.

"You're right. I just wanted to see you, but that doesn't mean I'm blameless. I came into your lair all the same, violated your peace and quiet."

It nodded, its tongue flicking at the air.

"And yet you still aren't afraid of me. Even though I would be justified if I tore you apart."

"If you wanted to kill me, you would've already done it."

"How do you know that? Sometimes I enjoy toying with my prey."

He shrugged.

"It doesn't feel like I'm being toyed with. Maybe interrogated a little bit, but you're also justified in that."

The demon did not speak for a few long seconds, only staring back at him. He made sure to maintain eye contact.

"Does your hand hurt?" it asked then, nodding at the wound.

He glanced down. Blood burbled sluggishly from the slash.

"It does. But I guess I've been distracted by you."

"Let me have a look at it. I've become quite adept at healing wounds over the years and you don't want it to get infected."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Back in the present:

Willem stooped to slip into the large alcove that served as their bedroom. The rough stone floor was covered by a large, sprawling arrangement of blankets, with pillows dotting the further end of the alcove, all of which had been purchased by him over the previous six years at various markets. Whereas the alcove was spartan in terms of other accommodations and devoid of any furniture, there were possessions here and there, mostly trinkets also bought at various markets, and a few personal items he kept here.

She was right beside him, slithering along the expanse of blankets until she reached a heap of pillows. On that comfortable spot, she eased herself down, and turned over, her massive bulk relaxing. A silk shawl lay nearby, so she grabbed it, and draped it over herself.

"How do I look?" she asked playfully.

"Like the prettiest of ladies," he replied.

She hissed in amusement.

"You must not see a lot of ladies."

"Why would I need to, when I have you?"

She hissed again, eyes twinkling, desire alongside amusement there.

The desire increased as he undressed, his own eyes fixed on her lounging regally on the pillows, tongue occasionally slipping out to taste the air.

Having one hand did not affect the speed at which he undressed, his clothes at this point customized with that disability in mind, easily taken off with little fanfare.

Soon, his lean figure was exposed, cock hard and straining.

The first time the two had given in to passion, it had been awkward until that passion had overwhelmed any nervousness or hesitation. And after all the times since, the two had figured out the optimal positions and best ways to mate, those positions and ways now second nature to them.

Willem straddled the lower portion of her body, the thick stretch of flesh more than strong enough to support his weight without inconveniencing her. His hand trailed along the scales of her hide, until it stopped at one particular point. Tucked discreetly in between the scales, there was a slick, soft, tender slice of her body. A few fingers deftly stroked there, dipping into the slight space in between the scales to reach that slice. The required coaxing was not only necessary for breeding, but also a delight for Willem, to watch her body react to his touch, to see pleasure work its way across her face, to hear the sibilant hisses and sultry purrs she let out at his fingers' movements.

Soon, the scales shifted aside, allowing for that slice to flesh to be revealed. A cleft awaited him, winking subtly as if eager for his entry.

His eyes met hers as he guided his cock to that slit, finding a velvety sleekness almost incongruous with the deadly form of the rest of her figure. A hitch of his hips sent the head of his length inside, both of them groaning at their respective sensations, the warmth of her insides beckoning him. He took a firm hold on her sinuous body, easing his hips forward, sliding deeper, those insides squishing around his steady passage. Her subtle squirming barely affected his position atop her, as he was used to those mindless movements, quite able now to ride them out and keep himself inside her.

Another hiss rose in the alcove. Her heavy-lidded eyes were aimed right at him. He pushed as far as he could reach, groaning again from the warmth surrounding his cock, the slick embrace clutching restlessly.

Her body began to move slowly and carefully, allowing him to indulge in the way her insides clutched at him. He watched her bring herself closer to him, nuzzling against his chest, tongue flicking out to get a good, intimate taste of his scent. Their eyes locked, a deep, abiding affection shared between them. Her hand stroked along his cheek. The shifting of her large frame brought the tip of her tail around to stroke over his back, that massive figure coiled comfortably around him.

His hips rocked steadily, easing back and forth, the insistent clutching sending shudders along him.

"It's been too long," he said, leaning forward to nuzzle against her.

"You always say that," she murmured. "And you're always right."

His hips kept rocking. Pleasure rose quickly, his breath hitching from the building sensations.

He added some urgency to the rocking of his hips, unable to hold back the lust accompanying that pleasure. Their bodies intertwined easily, naturally, lovingly. His hips sped up a bit more, pumping into her body, the strength he could summon not nearly enough to bother her, allowing him to let go of any remaining restraint.

"Don't hold back," she urged. "Give me all you can."

He leaned back to meet the affection in her gaze, squeezing appreciatively at her body, the scales shifting slightly under his grip.

The days spent apart always led to his passions coming out unreservedly. There was no reservation either in how she embraced and adored those passions.

The pleasure surged. Their eyes did not budge, that gaze a swirl of desire and delight and dedication, the same swirl abundant in his gaze.

He drove himself to the base inside her.

Orgasm struck, hot spurts firing into her body. She purred, utter satisfaction evident therein. His eyes fluttered from the ecstasy flowing through him, her channel milking him, drawing out the rest of those spurts. He kept himself buried, their bodies fused as their eyes locked.

The affection in her eyes did not recede in the slightest. He sighed, his own satisfaction just as evident. The last remnants of his seed joined the previous spurts.

Even after that, he kept himself sheathed in the luxurious warmth of her body, enamored of that sensation, unwilling to let go of it too soon. There was no hurry on her end either, just another purr and more squirming underneath and around him. Her scales rubbed along his skin, another luxurious sensation, one that had felt strange the first time they had made love, but now was very familiar.

He finally slid his cock out, the spent shaft sliding over her scales, and eased himself off her. The softness of the blankets and pillows met his naked frame as he slunk up towards her. He kissed her on the shoulder and let his mouth trail along her neck. His affection was reciprocated by her hands caressing along his shoulders and back.

The couple unwound together, bodies cuddled up.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few weeks later:

Willem downed the last of the ale and gestured for another.

His time spent in the village, where everyone viewed him with a mix of pity and misplaced respect, was always made more palatable by ale or wine. That time, however, had gradually become less and less over the past six years. His parents had passed, years before he had taken that first fateful trip into the lair, Allana, his first love, had passed soon after that, taken by a winter sickness, and both Nelson and Jeremy had left the village in search of glory not found slaying the snake demon. The lack of any meaningful connections in the village had made it easier for him to connect with his unlikely lover, and now, he simply felt more at home with her and their offspring.

The bartender placed another ale in front of him, and then glanced past him.

"Looks like you've maybe got another group," the bartender said, nodding in that same direction.

Willem fought back a roll of his eyes as he turned.

Four young men stood before him, dressed in simple, slightly sweat-stained clothes. Three of them were behind the fourth, their restlessness evident in the way they fidgeted nervously. The fourth smiled politely, his eyes twinkling with interest.

"We hear you know how to get into the snake demon's lair."