A Tale of Fur and Flesh (2 page)

“Wipe that grin from your face, child.”  It irked
her, that he addressed her so even into adulthood.  Saying nothing of the mess
of papers and quills, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the
hallway.  His grip was unexpectedly strong for one so lanky. She made no
attempt at escape.  A sense of pride inflated her royal chest as he walked her
along the stone corridor. A familiar craving wrapped itself like slithering
fingers around her waist.  She would have to wield this power over one of the
villagers when Offal was finished with her.  There was bound to be a young
shepherd ripe for the juicing, if she searched the fields long enough. 
Councillor Offal fixed his dark gaze straight ahead as he strut forward.  It
was a shame, she sometimes considered, there wasn’t anybody closer to home who
might satisfy her whims.

He led her in the direction of her father’s
chambers.  There was a reluctance in her step.  Perhaps, if papa was upset by
her actions, he would open up and tell her so.  “Please pardon the intrusion
your highness,” Offal said to the door, “but your daughter has become quite
problematic.  She has been in my chamber and destroyed a personal possession.  She
frightens the villagers when she is out and, pardon me for saying so, but there
are rumours circulating…”  When Offal glanced down at her, she was sure he knew
all about her affairs.  Perhaps they were to be the next chapter of his
manuscript.  She steeled herself against the strangely seductive quality of his
dark hair and eyes.  “We are all concerned about the girl’s behaviour,” he went
on.  “Perhaps if you would speak with her…?”

Lally’s heart awakened.  It thumped in her chest at
the thought of seeing father again.  Ten years apart was such a very long
time.  For a moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of light slip from the
king’s chamber door.  If only she could only see him again…

The door did not open. 
At last a response came to the councillor’s request. 
“If you can handle the politics of my kingdom, you can certainly handle my
daughter’s distemper.”

Distemper?
  Thunderclouds hung like a dark crown over Lally’s
golden head.  As much as she cherished the sound of her father’s voice, his
words were maddening.  It had been a full ten years since her mother’s death,
and that cowardly man was still cooped up in his chamber feeling sorry for
himself. The king was of no use to anybody.  Lally was a grown woman now!
Disillusion
. 
That was the word for it.  What need had she for that bloody useless man? 
None!

Her heart fell to its knees as Offal’s hand fell from
her arm.  Turning from him, she ran for her chamber.  She slammed the wooden
door with such might her massive tapestry fell from the wall, landing with a
thud on her dressing table.  In the mirror, Lally’s gauzy pink gown provoked
her fury.  Look how it clashed with the deep red blush of her neck and ears. 
That cheery shade mocked her foul mood.  How she despised it! As she stood
before the mirror, her plate of half-eaten lunch caught her eye.  She grasped
the meat knife.  With rage surging through the muscles of her arms, Lally slit
her sarcastic skirts until the layers of silk and crimolines hung in shreds
from her waistband.  She tore the wretched sleeves from her gown, exposing the
naked flesh of her arms to the cool air of her chamber.  Only the bodice of her
dress remained, along with tatters of silk and crinolines.  Father would be
mortified to see her thusly attired, but the act of destruction significantly
improved her disposition.  Now her clothing echoed the very wretchedness of her
emotions.

Yes, this was far better.  Now she looked as
miserable as she felt, except that her dress was still pink. 
Girlish bloody
pretty pink!
  Tying her knife against her hip with an errant strand of
silk, Lally set out to the woods in search of dark berries.  Mulberries would
dye her creation the colour of midnight, of wretchedness, of death.

Chapter Two

Revere the natural world.  That’s what mother taught. 
Honour the forest and its creatures will respect their humble visitors.  But
mother was gone now, so Lally climbed the mulberry tree, ripping thin sheaths
of bark from its trunk.  Ten years, and still father was grieving, locked alone
in his chamber.  Lally found a sturdy branch to sit on before tearing
fruit-bearing offshoots from the great tree.  Mother was dead and father was an
impotent ruler.  An absent parent, as well.  He didn’t care a crumb about her. 
She’d grown into womanhood without him.  If only he had died instead of
mother.  Mother was so knowledgeable and caring and wise.  She could easily
have run the kingdom on her own.

Black juice bled through pink silk as Lally smeared
the fruit against her tattered gown.  Tearing mulberries from their stems, she
pressed them into the fabric of her slashed skirts and armless bodice.  Her
dress now stood dark against her pale skin.  The contrast was pleasing.  Her
body was life costumed in death; peaceful death cloaking useless life.

“Ah, you too are dressed all in black,” Lally said to
the tree snake slithering along her branch.  She had no human companions.  Why
shouldn’t she speak to the creature?  “Why do I exist?” she asked him.  “I have
no purpose, no friends, no utility.  If she ceased to be, who would miss the
abhorrent princess?”

“I dare s-s-s-say,” a throaty voice hissed.  “I
should miss you greatly.”

The unanticipated response shook the princess. 
Nearly falling from her branch, Lally jerked around to see who addressed her. 
She had not heard any person’s approach, and indeed saw no man about.  “Who
speaks?” she commanded.  “Reveal yourself.”

“As you desire, your highness-s-s.”  As the dark
voice replied, a gust of wind forced Lally to grip the wide branch with all her
might.  The small tree snake grew and grew, sprouting human arms and legs.  The
flesh of his core was formed of black snakeskin, gleaming like chainmail.  With
his newly-formed human hands, he rubbed his snake’s head to reveal a human
countenance.  Long hair shone black as his eyes, but his face was pale as
winter.

So the tale was true!  The villagers believed all
forest creatures to possess human wisdom.  But, despite their capacity to take
on fleshly form, it was said they only did so over matters of great import.

Lally’s heart leapt from her breast to her mouth. 
She was utterly unable to speak.  Snake’s eyes, partially veiled by raven
locks, shone like two candles in a cavern.  Great insight glowed from the dark
gaze of this manly being.  It was as though he viewed her from a distance, but
knew precisely what she desired.  To touch his drawn cheeks, caress his thin
pink lips, to feel the smooth black diamonds upon his chest...

“I do hope my sudden appearance is not frightening
for you, madam.”  The
S
sounds sizzled on his tongue.

Not frightening, no.  Her laboured breath and heaving
breast were not the result of fright.  Moments like these were all she lived
for, though she was loathe to think how much this beautiful snake man reminded
her of councillor Offal.  Retrieving her powers of speech, Lally crawled nearer
to the manlike creature.  “Pray, do not call me madam,” she bid.  “I am a woman
of eighteen years, not a matron of forty.”  Princess Lally tossed her golden
hair about her bare shoulders.  What creature, man or beast, could resist her?

“As you desire,” the creature replied, nodding his
head slowly.  “How shall I address you?”  The snake shifted back on their
branch.  What fun to cause the ashen thing to fidget so.

She crept toward the cold-blooded male until he was
cornered between her body and the tree trunk.  “Call me Lally.”  She teased
him, imitating his manner of hissed speech.  “Shall I call you Snake, snake?”

“As you desire,
madam...that is, Lally.” 
Seeing the
seductive creature so flustered made Lally chuckle at her own power.  When she
put her mind to it, she became something of an animal herself.  A tiger on the
prowl.  Spotting her prey, she waited for the perfect moment to pounce.

“You said you would miss me if I were gone,” she
flirted, running her fingers through Snake’s slick black hair.  She brought her
face so close to his she could feel his cool breath on her lips.  His aroma was
that of darkness.  “But we have only just met.  Have I made such a profound
impression on you?  Or were you simply humouring royalty?”

“I am a snake.  I humour no one,” he scoffed, eyes
burning with indignation.  How proud a creature was this snake, yet how easily
shaken…

“Perhaps you will humour me,” returned the princess. 
“You are chillingly suave, dear Snake.”  Lally savoured his name in her mouth. 
The seductive s-s-s, the popping k.  Her breath steadied and deepened, as
though she were breathing through her spine.  No man could resist her.  Could a
snake?  Endeavouring to find out, the princess ran her practised hand along the
inner side of Snake’s leg, wrapping her fingers around the restless appendage
between his thighs.

“Damnation!” exclaimed the snake.  “Princess, that is
my…”

“Yes, I thought it might be,” she interrupted.

The jet black shaft between his legs was smoother than
anything she had ever touched.  Snake’s thick tail culminated in a set of
rattling spheres that flitted noisily about to evade her grasp.  What a
fascinating male part!  The attempts Snake made at escape only encouraged
Lally.  She wanted anything she could not have.

“There is a matter of dire importance I must discuss
with you,” Snake objected.

“Pray, let us converse,” Lally agreed.  “After.” 
Forcing her lips upon his, Lally attempted to pry open Snake’s firmly shut
mouth with her expert tongue.  He did not respond to her kisses.  At least, his
mouth issued no response.  His gleaming shaft became thicker and harder in her
hands.  Was she not a monarch?  The pale creature had no choice but to do as
she wished. 
Droit de seigneur
.  “You shall kiss me, Snake,” she
instructed, “or suffer the consequences.”

“I cannot,” he cried, squirming under he firm grasp. 
“As much as you provoke my thorough desire, my tongue is razor sharp.  It would
cut yours to shreds, your highness.”

Lally could not conceal her disappointment.  A desire
to feel the warm mingle of tongues overwhelmed her.  In a surprise motion,
Snake took her tightly in his grasp and pressed his thin lips against hers. 
Lally’s senses reeled.  In a meandering motion, Snake planting quick pecks
along Lally’s cheek, down her neck and across her chest.  His male tail
stiffened and jumped in her hand until she let it go to tear open her silk
bodice.  The cold emanating from Snake’s core rendered her nipples erect.  She
only wished the snake could lick them without cutting her to pieces.

He placed his hand at the small of her back while she
eased herself onto the wide branch.  His dark form hovered over hers. It made
her tremble with fright and anticipation.  She wanted to feel him inside her
body, and all over it.  Sharp kisses grazed her naked breasts.  Along her
straining nipples, Snake ran the crease of his lips, but when she sighed it was
because of the sensation below her hips.  Snake’s curious tail rattled and
shook against her lower lips. Her abdomen quaked at the intense vibrations.  It
was unlike any pleasure she had ever experienced.

She couldn’t keep still under the assault of
pulsations against her mound.  Gyrating against the rattle of the snake’s sex,
Lally writhed with desire.  Her balance suffered.  She began to tumble from her
branch.  Her back slid against tree bark as she fell to one side.  In an act of
quick-thinking valour, Snake threw himself upon her.  Her heart raced at the
incredible save.  Full of gratitude and pure lust, Lally forgot herself and
tried again to kiss the snake’s mouth.  He pulled his head away before she got
to it.

“There is danger, princess,” the breathless snake
began, his cool black chest heavy upon her.  If only she could kiss the brave
creature…

“Danger indeed,” Lally replied, wild with desire for
the saviour-snake.  “I shall tumble to my death if you do not hold my small
wrists firm against this branch.”

Stretching her hands above her head as she lay upon
the bough, Lally invited restraint at the hands of the dark lover.  With
caution in his black eyes, Snake tented his long form over her.  He was nearly
everywhere now.  Above and upon her, but not yet within.  Her toes wriggled in
anticipation.

“Come inside,” Lally invited.  The tentative creature
looked down at her.  His mysterious hesitance made her want him all the more. 
“Cross the threshold into my body and find a home in me.”

“This act is not new to you, princess?” Snake
inquired.

Lally released a wry chuckle.  “I’ve known a shepherd
or two.”  Or six.  And the stable hand.  And the gamekeeper.  They could hardly
refuse royalty, could they?

“I must not,” Snake replied, though he moved not a
muscle in retreat.  He remained hovering over her naked body as her pale
breasts rose against his black chest.

“But you must, for I say so!” Lally countered,
scorched by impatience.  “Your tail does not argue.  He is eager to plunge to a
watery death.”

Snake’s eyes glowed as he observed her from above. 
The ice in her manner melted under his gaze.  “As you desire, princess-s-s,” the
creature finally conceded.  The defeat in his tone caused Lally’s breasts to
swell with satisfaction as Snake sank down upon them.  Kissing the soft skin of
her underarms, the rattle-tip of his tail too timidly prodded her cunt.