Lair of the Snake Demon

Content warning: this story contains some violence and a bit of gore. Enjoy!

“This is as far as I go,” Willem said solemnly.

“You sure you don’t want to go further?” Armond asked. “We could use another number.”

“I haven’t survived all these trips by going into her lair.”

Johan chuckled, his broad shoulders bouncing from his laughter.

“All the glory for us then!”

“I don’t need glory. I’m happy to have safety.”

“Good for you,” Gareth said drily.

“So, we just head down here and there’s a way into the lair?” Dunn clarified.

“Yes. At the end down there, turn right. A few yards away there’s a crack in the stone on your left. Big enough for you to slip through. Even Johan.”

The burly adventurer chuckled again.

“And you won’t need the torches. Her lair is well lit. She keeps her own torches burning.”

“How do you know so much about the lair?” Gilbert asked.

Willem hesitated.

“Some years ago…I came here with a few companions. The plan, much like yours, was to kill her. Before we knew it, she was picking us off one by one. I almost escaped, but she caught me. I spent a month with her.”

“It didn’t eat you?” Dunn asked.

“Sometimes, she likes to play with her prey. Keep them captive. Let them marinate in their despair for a bit. And feed parts of them to her hatchlings. Like she did with me.”

With a wry smile, he held up the stump that had been his left hand.

“Well, if we find it quickly,” Gareth said, “and strike hard and fast, we should be able to avoid a grisly fate.”

“Funny. Every other group I’ve brought here said some version of that.”

“You’ve survived coming here all these times,” Gilbert pointed out.

“Yeah, because I stay here.”

“Alright then,” Dunn piped up, “stay here and wait for us. We still need you to get us back safely.”

“Got it.”

The quintet slipped past him, headed down the passageway.

Dunn took the lead, carrying one torch, his other hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword. Armond went second, his bow already readied with an arrow. Gilbert was third, wielding another torch. Gareth followed in the fourth spot, also nocking his bow in preparation. Johan brought up the rear, carrying the third torch. The flickering flames cast shadows on the cave walls as the group crept along.

“I don’t know why I thought he might come with us,” Armond muttered.

“He’s a coward,” Johan said simply. “And smarter than us.”

“I wonder how much coin it would take for him to come with us,” Gareth spoke up. “It took a lot of convincing for him to even bring us here.”

The crack in the wall he had mentioned was visible once they were near it, thanks to a thin stream of light shining through it. Dunn peeked through the crack, but only saw more cave on the other side. Handing the torch back to Armond, he eased himself into the groove in the stone.

As soon as he stepped out into the lair proper, he unsheathed his sword and looked around quickly, taking in the high ceiling, the unevenness of the floor, the cragginess of the walls.

“All clear,” he whispered back towards his companions.

One by one, they slipped through the crack, with him standing guard, and joined him on guard once inside the lair. Johan was the last in, and although he took longer than the previous four to get through, he nevertheless managed to fit his bulk through the crack.

The quintet slunk forward as a unit.

The lair was quiet and bright, the torches Willem had mentioned burning helpfully, the placement seemingly random. Little holes marked the walls here and there, while higher up towards the ceiling were larger holes, some connected by ridges. Dunn kept his eyes moving, leading his companions deeper into the lair.

After a few minutes of careful navigation, the quintet making sure they could remember the way back to the crack, the thin passageway opened into a wider space. Small stones and little bones littered the floor, occasionally broken up by the presence of a larger rock, a few even man-size. A part of the floor, near the center of the space, looked like a natural ramp, slanting up from a wide base to a platformed top. An eerie silence filled the space.

A loud, wet, crunching thud rang out behind him, the sound rendered louder by that silence.

He spun, bringing his sword smoothly up into a defensive position.

Johan lay crushed underneath a large rock, his upper body having taken the brunt of the blow, his lower body twitching uselessly.

“Oh fuck,” Gilbert whimpered.

A hiss came next, building in the high-ceilinged space.

“Stay ready,” Armond whispered.

“Oh fuck, Johan’s dead…”

The hiss built louder.

“We will be too if we don’t keep our eyes peeled,” Gareth said.

Horror crept into Dunn’s heart, but he kept it at bay, relying on his combat experience and well-honed survival skills to stay cool and calm.

“Anyone see anything?”

“Nothing,” Gareth replied.

“Nothing,” Armond repeated.

“Fuck, he’s dead,” Gilbert groaned. “Crushed like a grape.”

“Snap out of it, Gilly,” Gareth growled. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

The hiss stopped. Its echoes trailed off slowly until there was only silence again.

Dunn crept forward, sweat cropping up at his forehead and underarms.

A shriek cut through the silence. He spun, seeing only Armond, who had been facing away from the sound and had spun back along with him, and Gilbert, crouched over Johan’s crushed corpse. A clatter had followed the shriek, the cause of which, Gareth’s bow, was on the ground, the arrow laying nearby.

“Gareth!” Armond shouted, looking around on the ceiling.

The stories the quintet had heard about the snake demon came rushing into Dunn’s mind. Horror and death had been the main themes. Even the few survivors of forays into its lair had been traumatized by their ordeal. Willem was not immune either, his habit of disappearing for days and sometimes weeks at a time attributed by the townsfolk to his immense guilt over the grisly fate of those he had led to the lair.

“We need to get out of here,” Armond murmured.

“Agreed,” Dunn said, the duo slinking back towards Gilbert, carefully looking around.

Another hiss sounded, building again in the space, making a fearful shiver run down his back.

“Gilbert,” Armond whispered. “Forget about Johan. We need to leave.”

“And just leave him?!” Gilbert sobbed indignantly. “Help me with his body!”

“Fuck that. We need to go.”

The hiss turned into a snarl. A flash of movement came from Dunn’s left.

A long, sinuous figure dashed along the wall, partially hidden by the shadows in the nooks and crannies pocking that stretch. Armond cursed, aiming his bow in that direction.

The figure burst into the light, moving swiftly. It slithered up the natural ramp, rearing up over the edge, snarling again.

A whimper reached Dunn’s ears. He realized after a few seconds that it had come from him.

All the stories they had heard about the beast paled in comparison to the reality before them.

The snake demon boasted a muscular, undulating body, colored in thick scales, green and gold on its back and a duller yellow on its belly. Those scales shimmered in the torchlight, almost alluringly so, adding a strange sort of savage beauty to the horrific picture. Its body became humanoid up past the midsection, with toned arms, defined shoulders, and a head devoid of hair. Its head was topped with a hood colored bright green, the point of the hood curving slightly over its head, almost seeming like a dangerous weapon in its own right. Its features were surprisingly humanoid as well, despite the malevolent gleam in its sinister eyes. The snarl trailed into a hiss, thin lips drawing back to reveal sharp teeth and a forked tongue.

“Run,” Dunn said dully.

An arrow flew past his head, and he dashed away, not bothering to check if the arrow had struck true. Armond ran as well, grabbing Gilbert and dragging him along, the duo ending up right behind Dunn.

Another shriek came.

He looked back, heart pounding, to see the snake demon holding Gilbert’s squirming body in its grip. With a little bit of effort, those strong arms pulling at head and feet, his body gave way, tearing in the middle. Entrails spilled out messily onto the floor. Bile rose in Dunn’s throat as he turned away.

Something flew by overhead. Gilbert’s upper half smacked wetly against the wall next to him. He did not stop, despite the utter terror, the intense fear, the trickles of urine streaming down his thighs, the grisly sight of his friend’s torn torso face up on the floor and the numb despair written all over that face.

The crack seemed smaller on the way out, but he fit just as easily as before, and wriggled his way through, moving quickly to give Armond a chance to escape as well.

He sprang free and turned back. Armond was wriggling his way through the crack, already more than halfway out, throwing his arm out for help. Ignoring his fear and panic, Dunn grabbed the outstretched arm, and tugged with all his might.

“Come on, please!” Armond cried, struggling desperately.

“You’re stuck on something,” Dunn grunted, tugging harder.

“I think it’s got me,” Armond whimpered, tears dribbling down his cheeks.

“No, I’ve got you, I’ve got you!”

“Goodbye, old friend,” Armond murmured sadly, a resigned acceptance replacing his own fear and panic.

“No!”

Dunn dug his heels in, grabbing his friend’s shoulder, holding on to his tunic for extra leverage.

“Dunn…let go…you can’t save me, but you can save yourself.”

Dunn shook his head, his own tears falling freely now.

“No! No, please! Don’t give up!”

Armond winced as his body was yanked back a bit.

A hiss reached Dunn then from the other side of the crack, the sound seeping out towards him, the sheer evil in that long, sibilant note sending another shiver down his back.

A strong effort yanked Armond unceremoniously from his grip. The adventurer cried out in fright, but a wet crunch cut the wail off after a few seconds.

Dunn stepped back from the crack, trembling with terror.

The hiss continued, steadily washing over him.

He turned and ran. His footfalls and sniffling sobs were loud in the quiet cave. Every few seconds, he looked back, but did not see any movement through the tears streaking down his face.

Willem was waiting where they had left him, leaning against the cave wall, idly tossing a rock up into the air and catching it smoothly. The moment he saw Dunn, face teary and flushed, chest rising and falling to his shallow breaths, trousers wet with urine, he straightened.

“The others?”

Dunn shook his head pointedly.

“We need to go,” he said, already walking past Willem, waving for him to follow, “before it comes after us.”

Something smacked hard into the back of his head, sending him sprawling forward, the second collision of his forehead against the ground helping push him into unconsciousness.

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

Dunn came to.

A harsh throbbing at the back of his head quickly registered. He tried to move, but found himself incapacitated, arms bound behind his back, feet tied together.

Fear and panic rushed back as he remembered the horrific fates of his friends.

The sound of a clearing throat came from next to him. He glanced over to see Willem standing there, arms crossed over his chest, watching him with a neutral expression.

“Help me!” Dunn cried. “Please!”

Willem shook his head.

“I’ll give you more gold! I’ll give you every last coin I have, please, untie me!”

“No can do. She wanted everyone this time.”

“W-what?”

The throbbing at the back of his head reminded him of the something that had smacked into it. Understanding dawned.

“Oh gods…you help it?”

Willem nodded.

“I help her, yes.”

“Is…is that how you’ve survived all these trips!? Sacrificing people to the demon so it won’t eat you!?”

Willem smiled.

“Not exactly.”

Anger crept in past his fear and panic.

“You sick bastard! My friends are dead! They’re dead!”

Dunn squirmed fruitlessly, glancing around as he tried to get free, noticing that they were back in the larger space, and he was at the top of the ramp, lying on the platform part.

“I did warn you. Most who come here end up dead. Some she lets go.”

Dunn squirmed harder, grunting from the exertion, his head throbbing with pain.

Movement flashed above him. He looked up to see a familiarly sinuous figure slip from a hole on the ceiling. The demon dropped and landed right in front of him on the ramp part of the rock.

It reared up to its full size, body coiling, eyes flashing. More urine seeped from him.

“Please let me go,” he whimpered to Willem. “Please…”

The guide paid him no attention, focusing entirely on the demon, eyes bright with a queer affection. The demon glanced over, and returned that same queer affection, the prior malevolence in its gaze dissipating almost immediately. Its scales shimmered as it slipped closer to Willem; since it was taller than him, he was forced to crane his neck to keep eye contact. The demon brought a hand up and stroked tenderly at his cheek.

“Such a good provider,” it hissed.

“What the fuck?” Dunn squeaked, too terrified and confused to consider the fact that this creature could talk.

The squeak drew its attention. Those glittering eyes settled on him, that malevolence returning.

“Looks delicious,” it commented. “Well seasoned by fear…”

“Please don’t eat me,” he mewled. “Please…”

“I’m not going to eat you.”

He stared in continued confusion.

The demon reared up and tilted its head back.

“Children!”

A few seconds of silence passed.

And then hissing came from all around him, quickly blending into one rising, swirling chorus.

Wriggling figures inched into his field of vision: smaller, more traditionally reptilian snakes. As he squealed fearfully, looking all over, more appeared, slithering towards him. The ground was soon covered by their squiggling bodies. He squealed again, struggling at his bindings. Nearby, Willem cooed at the horde, crouching to stroke over the passing snakes, their figures winding affectionately around his hands and feet on their way to Dunn.

“Your father has brought food,” the demon told the snakes. “Come…feast.”

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

“Your father and I need some alone time,” she purred to their children. “Do not disturb us.”

She slipped an arm around Willem’s, and the couple walked away.

“Did you have any trouble with him?” she asked.

“No,” he assured her, “it was easy enough.”

“Good, good. I would’ve taken care of him myself…but I’m a little slower these days.”

With a meaningful smile, she caressed at a lower portion of her midsection, the area thicker than usual, slightly swollen.

“Is it that time?” he asked, his cock twitching in his trousers. “Seems like not too long ago the new hatchlings were wriggling in my arms.”

“Yes…it is that time.”

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

Six years ago:

“I don’t really want to kill it,” Willem said with a shrug. “I just want to see it.”

“Well, if you can see it,” Roderick rejoindered, “it can likely see you, and if it can see you, it can kill you.”

“So, you’d better to ready to kill it,” Oliver added.

Willem shrugged again.

“I want to kill it,” Santi spoke up. “I wonder how much gold we’d get.”

“There’s no bounty on it,” Roderick told him. “But I’m sure we’d get free drinks in the taverns for life. Maybe free whores too.”

“Plus,” Oliver added, “maybe it has gold or some treasures from the people it’s killed.”

The quartet crept down the passageway, Roderick in the lead, Oliver behind him, Willem third, and Santi bringing up the rear.

The entrance into the snake demon’s lair waited ahead. When they reached it, Roderick went first, crawling through the aperture in the rock on his hands and knees.

“Alright,” he whispered back once he reached the other side. “Come on.”

Oliver went next, and then Willem followed, his palms scraping along the ground, his knees dislodging a few tiny rocks. Scuffling sounded behind him as Santi continued to bring up the rear.

Soon, the four of them were huddled in a larger space. A light around the corner ahead of them provided the only illumination. Roderick crept forward, hand firm on the haft of his spear, a few knives hanging from his belt. Oliver was close behind, bow at the ready, while Willem kept a loose grip on his sheathed sword, and Santi nocked an arrow in preparation.

The light around the corner was a torch, fitted snugly into a slot in the wall. Another burned ahead, before another corner. Roderick held up his hand. The group waited for a few seconds before he gestured for them to continue.

Willem glanced around as the quartet rounded the next corner to find a long, narrow passageway with another torch burning at the far end. The walls were pocked here and there with holes, some smaller, some larger, the ceilings similarly pocked. Aside from the occasional scatter of a few bones, there was nothing that indicated the presence of any horrific creature.

The passageway led to the left. Around another corner, a larger chamber waited. The quartet slunk through it, weaving around large stones on the floor. The area was much more illuminated, thanks to the various torches set in the wall, some higher, some lower, the pattern seemingly random.

Halfway through the chamber, a soft hiss came from nearby.

Oliver and Santi brought their bows up, while Roderick hefted his spear. Willem glanced around as the hiss continued for a few seconds, and then ended, letting the previous silence fall back into place.

And then a shriek cut abruptly through that silence.

Roderick, Oliver, and Willem spun just in time to see a monstrous figure slither swiftly back into one of the holes on the wall, something struggling in its grip. The shriek trailed off.

“Santi!” Oliver cried.

The remaining trio stepped closer to each other to form a tight formation.

“Anyone see anything?” Roderick asked.

“Nothing,” Willem replied.

Oliver did not answer, only breathing heavily, aiming his bow up towards the walls.

Out of the corner of an eye, Willem noticed movement, and glanced over to see a large rock hurtling towards them.

“Look out!” he cried, diving to the side.

The rock slammed into the ground, missing all three of them. He rolled back to his feet in time to see another rock hurtling towards Roderick, who was in the process of rolling back to his feet.

“Look out!” he cried again.

Roderick came onto his feet just in time to get walloped by the rock, the impact sending him flying back, his spear tumbling from his grasp and clattering to the ground nearby. Oliver cursed as Roderick landed in a heap.

“Roddy!” he called over, rushing towards his friend’s unmoving body.

A hiss sounded again.

Willem glanced around, hand still on his sword, his heart pounding. Despite Santi’s fate and Roderick’s body lying there on the ground, the fear he felt was not all-encompassing, not bleeding into terror. Instead, there was a mix of curiosity and excitement. Although he had only gotten a brief glimpse of the snake demon when it had dragged Santi into the hole in the wall, that glimpse had been enough to add to the curiosity and excitement he had already felt at the start of this trek.

Having grown up in the area, Willem had heard plenty of stories about the horrific beast that lived in the nearby mountains. The legend had started during his childhood, with the first story coming from a lost traveler who had recounted seeing a snake-like figure slithering along while he had been trying to find a way down from the mountains. The figure had noticed him but had not attacked. The malevolent gaze cast the traveler’s way had still instilled in him a sense of danger.

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.”