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Growing Soft 1
🕑 Added 2020-01-21 00:56:45 +0000 UTCFor ten years, Miia had dreamt of this moment. Yet now she could barely see it through the joyful tears that were threatening to spill down her face. She was here, after all this time. Details had changed, of course.
When she was nine, she had imagined that she would be wearing a yellow dress. In her hair, she would have a whole bouquet worth of deep blue chrysanthemums, and she’d have her best friend at the time, Acseilla, be her flower girl and her maid of honor. When her mom, the leader of their tribe, had informed her that chrysanthemums were a flower typically reserved death, she responded that she didn’t care. She was just proud that she’d learned to spell chrysanthemums from one of her many treasured books. A favorite about deadly neurotoxin.
When she was fourteen, she wanted to wear a black dress, with a dark and obscuring veil over her face. She wanted to use paint to dye a pattern along her scales resembling elder lamias of legend. The goddesses of malevolence, or their demigoddess children, back when lamias were feared for their venom, when the world would balk at traveling to the lands of sand. She’d have a bouquet filled with chrysanthemums, because after she’d married the creature, for she’d never touch one of those humans that the priestesses had the others like that slut Acseilla pining over, her and he would… well, they’d do something! And it’d probably result in death!
When she was sixteen, Miia saw what a bouquet of chrysanthemums looked like.
At seventeen, Miia was beginning to find herself… changed. Something had come over her, some sort of shift. She was talking more with the other girls, slithering out to be with and join them in their discussions, but she still found herself shying away when they talked about men. Like savages, they were. They talked about luring in men to the center of village, using pheromones and their sexy appeal to court any random guy into… it made Miia turn as red as her hair just to think about it. The ‘old practices,’ they had called it, and they’d been peeved at Miia’s mother for putting a stop to it. They were still teaching the others how to get involved once things had started, though. Girls that were younger than Miia, learning how to charm and sedate a man. Well, Miia decided, that if she was going to… to have to do… do *that* with some random fool, then she was better off never doing it at all. Yet still, she remembered her stories. How the villainous knight would travel out into the desert, resisting the heat of the goddesses’ rage, and combat against the demigoddesses to take back their political hostage. The knights would take the princesses home with them, they’d marry them and love them, and they’d be together forever. Miia wanted a knight to come for her. She wanted to be someone else’s, but she wanted even more desperately for someone to be hers. Only hers.
At eighteen years old, Miia was sent on a mission.
At nineteen years old, as her Darling slipped the ring on her finger, as the tears broke over Miia’s eyes and she gleefully threw herself around the man who was hers and only hers, as she leant up into his deep, full, confident kiss, Miia failed her mission. And she couldn’t be happier.
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Miia’d been smiling so much today that her cheeks hurt. She glided her lengthy tail underneath the table where her and Darling were to be seated for the reception and sat back into the chair. The moment Darling sat down, she muttered “Bligh,” and collapsed against his shoulder.
Darling chuckled, looking down to her. “Having fun?”
Miia grinned. “It’s a lot of work! My face is aching, I’ve never had to be so happy for so long before.”
Darling raised an arm. She felt it as he wrapped it around her in a half hug, sliding it along the soft white silk of her dress and up beneath her hair. His strong grip took the back of her neck and began kneading it, making the girl release an exasperated groan. “You feel real tense,” he told her.
“I know,” she groaned, rubbing her head against him. He guided her up into her seat, still rubbing at her neck. She was aware of some of the guests looking at her before she noticed her mouth was hanging open in a lethargic pant.
Mero, who was a good friend of Miia’s and had come wearing a dress worthy of a mermaid princess, opened her mouth and used her index finger to close it. A blush overpowered Miia’s makeup. She closed her mouth and laughed softly, while Mero lifted a glass of wine in a half cheer.
Then, Miia realized, “We don’t have drinks! I haven’t even eaten today, oh I hope they bring out the food soon.”
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked. “I can go get it.”
Miia looked at him and pouted. “Aren’t you a bit busy taking care of your wife’s shoulders?”
Darling laughed, rolling his eyes. Miia had to keep a hold of herself while his grip retightened and his fingers flexed.
Soon, a waiter arrived with bowls of soup and two glasses of champagne. Miia hungrily devoured the small cup. Meatball soup, made with ground beef, some egg, carrots, potato, and a bit of garlic. Even though much of the taste was lost on her, Miia loved the taste of meat. Her tongue wrapped around one of the meatballs that she spooned up to her mouth before dragging it in. It was fantastic. She smushed the ball to the roof of her mouth and flattened it so that she could feel the meat covering the entirety of her tongue. Her head lulled back when she scraped it from the top and sent it tumbling down into her empty tummy with a satisfied sigh.
She looked back up to the ceremony hall, really appreciating it for the first time while she ate. They were in the center of the building, far away from the crippling cold of the winter outside. So many people had come, far more than she’d ever planned for. Miia, who’d always been reserved, who would always end up picking fights with the other girls in her village, had never thought this many people would ever really care for her.
Miia and Kimihito sat in the center of the hall at a long table with a long hanging white table cloth and covered in white roses. Before them was the dance floor, almost empty as everyone fed themselves, save for a young lamia girl with green scales and bright hair that danced with a young Asian boy. Surrounding them were seventeen tables occupied by ten guests each of all kinds and types, extra-species and humans intermixing and communicating. Celebrating their wedding.
Miia looked to Mero and saw that she was speaking with another lamia, showing off her dress. She wore seafoam green fabric that was translucent save for her chest, which traveled down over her aquatic tail and nearly reached her flipper. Around her hips, she wore what resembled a soft skirt that bunched up around her in her wheelchair. Her head sported a silver tiara, and her neck was adorned with golden sparkles.
The bride looked down to herself and scratched a fang over her lower lip. She was wearing a human styled wedding dress, a strapless swath of fabric that showed the shapely curve of her dress, was pulled in tightly around her waist, but which flowed out for a couple of feet around her long tail. Around her head, tucked into her white hair clips, was her veil. Most of her, though, was left uncovered, while the parts that she worried about, were completely hidden.
Her mother, as a figurehead of lamia culture, had tried to push Miia into wearing something more traditional for lamias. Their culture didn’t have wedding dresses. They, instead, had ceremonial outfits for the village head ‘tied to’ the village husband. Essentially meaning the head mistress had first rights on sex before the man was thrown to the snake pit.
Mama had brought a pink veil and a white cape, which would have left Miia’s chest and waist almost entirely exposed save for a black and red lace bra. Around her hips, mother had wanted Miia to wear a ceremonial skirt, that was really just a square of silk that’d be folded and tied in front to cover her groin and expose her lower belly.
Miia had been hesitant, but when her mother told her she’d be the forerunner that all other lamias would look to, that she would set precedent for all the other girls who would want to come to immerse themselves in human culture and marry into the human nations, her hesitance became outright refusal. She had had enough of the lecherous need that was the lamia temptation.
Still, she worried if she’d made the right decision. She looked from Mero and spotted Rachnera doing some hand tricks for a few harpies using her webbing. She looked beautiful, wearing dark purple and black that emphasized her pale skin and slight waist in contrast to her large chest. Then, she spotted Papi hopping over to the group in little more than a tunic with underwear!
She grimaced. A passing waiter came to their table, carrying a tray filled with fresh bowls of soup. “We’ll be starting to serve the main course soon,” he told Kimihito.
He didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised when Miia raised herself on her tail, grabbed two fresh bowls of soup, and let out a large “Hmph!” when she thunked back into her chair.
Darling, the sweetheart, was waving the guy off. “She’s just a bit hungry. You know lamias, she could probably eat three of those main courses,” he chuckled. “But if you may, I’ll have a glass of peach sake, and my wife will have a glass of red wine. The darkest that you have.”
The waiter said nothing, simply hummed in acknowledgement, and left.
Miia, turning her eyes back onto Papi and her stupid sexy lingerie, took great pleasure in the next bite of her soup. Then, brain finally catching up, turned to Darling. “Hey! I could not!”
Darling, who was in the middle of lifting his spoon to his mouth, looked up to her. “Eh?
Miia looked past his confused expression and slouched shoulders. He had a strong chin and a sharp nose, with light brown eyes that shared all the kindness and caring that the man possessed, when they weren’t filled with befuddlement. He was dressed in a casual styled tux, with a black jacket and white undershirt and white bowtie. Pinned to his lapel was a beautiful white rose. Miia felt her blush deepen. She was comparing herself to all these other girls, yet Darling was wearing something simple as well. He matched her in every way. “Nothing,” she muttered. Her eyes turned down. “Sorry.”
She felt herself twitching nervously before his fingers reached beneath her chin, turning her to look to him and those kind eyes. “For what?” he asked.
Miia’s eyes fluttered. She felt butterflies in her belly. She sighed and took his hand. “Can’t really believe that we’re married,” she told him.
He let out a big breath. “I’m glad you said it,” he intoned. “With everyone here, I was worried somebody would try to stop the wedding. Kidnap me, or you, or something. Could you feel my hands trembling when I was putting on your ring?”
Miia shook her head. “No, I didn’t notice it at all.”
“Yeah, well, they were,” he laughed. “I’m just happy that things are going well so far.”
Miia nodded. “I keep looking at the others. They’re all so gorgeous looking.”
Darling’s expression shifted and he looked out toward the crowd. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Miia reached up and tapped him on the back of the head with a delighted giggle. “Flattery!” she whined.
He turned back to her with a knowing smile. He stroked his hand in hers, “A little better?”
She leaned into him, giving him a hug. “A little.”
“Good,” he said. “Then my leg should be able to get its circulation back before our dance.”
Miia glanced down and saw that she’d wrapped her tail round Darling’s leg like a tree trunk, and felt the flexed muscles squeezing the life out of his appendage. The sudden shock of realization caused the hold to strengthen. “Ahh, ohhh, I’m sorry!” she reached downwards and patted his leg with a pitying coo.
Their waiter returned with their drinks, setting them down a bottle of sake and a bottle of wine and began pouring each their respective glass. Darling waved Miia’s concern off. “I’m used to it,” he said, making Miia’s embarrassment worse. But it was true. She had squeezed him harder in the past. “Give me your tail,” he instructed.
She raised it to him, and he set it across his lap. He began rubbing the lower end of it, causing Miia’s entire body to suddenly slump backwards while the tension was pulled from her like venom from a wound. She let out an immense sigh of relief.
“There we go,” he said to her. “That’s better, right?”
“Right,” Miia purred. She reached forwards and took her glass of wine and drank from it. A deliciously deep red, strong enough where she could taste it. She took a deep pull before returning to her bowl and began eating from it once more. Her belly happily vibrated, sending the slow tremor all the way down to his fingers.
“Wow, you weren’t joking. When did you eat, last?” he asked.
Miia’s eyes turned away. “Yesterday morning,” she managed over a mouthful of soup.
He chuckled. “Well, now you can at least get something. No more skipping meals, okay?” he asked. “I can finally afford to actually feed you, now that we’ll be living by ourselves.”
Miia chuckled. “That’s dangerous,” she told him. “I’m always hungry.”
Darling smiled. “I know, I’m kinda excited about that.”
The redhead’s eyebrows raised. “How so?”
“Well,” he pet her tail, “now that you’re Mrs. Kurusu and all,” he was stopped by Miia’s youthful giggle to herself over that. Once she quieted, he went on, “it’ll be nice to just make a meal for the two of us. Do you remember how things were when you first moved in?”
“Yeah,” she reached out and stroked his arm. “How could I forget? You were bringing me nearly five meals a day. Eggs every morning.”
“Well, I figured you’re part snake, so…” he shrugged.
“You know you made me put on nearly fifteen pounds during that, right?”
Darling said nothing, but his fingers grew firmer. Tighter. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe the day was getting to her, but something flickered in Miia’s chest. The memory of being fed chicken while laying in a hot bath bubbled in her brain. After a moment, Darling looked up and to the side. “You never did tell me that,” he said. “You cracked your tail over my cheek when I asked you how much you weighed.”
Miia tried to rub the blush off of her face. “That doesn’t count! I’m twenty-six feet long! Over twenty of that is this bulky tail, do you know how much time I spent with those priestesses learning charm dances? My stomach still hurts.” Miia’s belly, recognizing it was being talked about, growled. “Where the heck is that main course,” she said, rubbing a hand over her middle.
“You’re so defensive,” he chuckled. He wrapped his hands tightly around her tail, making her gasp. “You know, they say muscles weigh more than fat.”
Miia turned to him. She raised the tip of her tail to his cheek. “Do they?”
He nodded, brushing his face atop her scales and sending a spike of pleasure up Miia’s long back. “Mhmm,” he hummed, enjoying her trembling breath.
Miia was losing herself against him. Her tail began to uncoil from beneath the table, slowly pulling to meet his legs. What was this conversation? It was making her feel heady, almost drunk. She giggled, “So, if you had to guess, what would you say I weighed?”
Kimihito looked her up and down. Miia’s tail gently propelled him, and he scooted his chair closer. He was feeling it too, a hunger neither one of them had ever sated. Desire to be together, to be paired as one. Tonight, Miia knew it would be tonight. “Oh,” he reached into her lap, placing a hand over her waist. “Two-hundred pounds?”
Miia laughed. Loudly. It shook through her entirely, and she felt her body loosening before pulling Darling into a deep kiss. She locked her lips atop of his, and he responded, pulling her to him. The hubbub of the crowd broke into delighted calls, and there was some clapping before they broke. Miia leaned into his shoulder, looking into his gorgeous eyes. “Not even close,” she said.
The corners of his eyes crinkled with his grin before he nodded. “Alright, keep your secret. You’ll tell me when you’re ready, but if we keep going, we might have to leave early.”
Miia laughed once more. “I feel like I’ve only talked with you, my mother, and Mero today. I’ve hardly even been able to see anyone else.”
“Did you notice Suu broke the ice sculpture?” he asked.
Miia looked up, over towards the entrance area and the table that held peoples’ cards. Sitting completely still on a pedestal, Suu was ice blue, and entirely nude. “No?” Miia asked.
“Mero found her in here eating it,” Darling explained. “She took the cold spray from your purse and told Suu she’d get a special slice of cake if she sat still until everyone came and got their cards. Then Mero put one out for her own mother. Suu will be there all night.”
Miia snickered into her hand. “That’s mean,” she thumped Darling on the leg.
Darling shrugged. “She’ll get cake out of it all the same. A lot of people would be uncomfortable with a slime walking around, anyways. They’re dangerous where you guys come from.”
Miia considered this. “Suu’s dangerous here…”
Darling shrugged but nodded.
Miia looked at him. Just stared into his face, and again her cheeks were pained with a smile. She went back to the bowl, drinking it down and then starting on the third.
“Really, though,” Darling went on, “I’m sort of shocked. Everybody seems to be enjoying themselves without any sort of problem.”
Miia’s eyes again scanned the hall before the shimmering gleam of metal caught her eye.
“It hardly feels possible.”
Centorea Shianus, stood near the wall wearing full plate armor save her iron helmet, which hung from her arm. Small shifts of muscular brown fur were able to be seen between small gaps of her equine back. She had her arms crossed before her massive chest, with an insignia of a tower upon her waist. Her long blonde hair was pulled back, though in a decorative headdress rather than her standard pony tail. Her blue eyes, normally filled with light, held nothing but grim darkness from across the hall. And she was looking directly at Miia, with her other hand resting upon the hilt of her blade.
Miia raised her hand and nervously waved her fingers at Cerea.
The knight did not wave back.
“I used to get kidnapped on the way to the grocery store,” Darling went on, “but I guess luck is on our side today.”
Miia lowered her hand. She felt her own gaze turn to metal, locked upon Cerea’s. She picked up her wine glass and swirled the contents. “Not luck,” she said after a moment.
Darling turned to her, looking up from his hands on her tail.
Miia blinked. The sudden lack of sensation halted her thought, and she realized what she was doing. She broke the connection to Cerea, looking down to herself, to her tail in his lap. She had been about to say ‘skill.’ As if Darling was a prize that she’d won at some sort of game.
She felt repulsed by the thought, disgusted at herself. She was better than that. She was married, now. There was no friendly rivalry, anymore. No competition, no scheming, no throwing themselves at Darling with these rampant desires. The others… the others had to accept that this is how things would need to be.
Miia reconsidered herself, and found that there was something that she believed in. She looked back to Cerea, looked into her eyes, and waved once again.
This time, slowly, Cerea responded with a nod.
“Fate,” she turned to Darling. “Not luck.”
The sound of chimes came through the hall, a soft tinkering of glasses. Miia and Kimihito looked up to see the crowd tapping on their drinks with cutlery, and Miia felt a delighted color come to her cheeks at all of their happy faces.
They turned and met one another in happiness, kissing for a long moment to the cheers of the crowd.
Miia tilted her head back and hugged him, with everyone settling back down. She took a deep drink, polishing off the last of her wine.
“Here, I’ll take your glass,” Darling extended his hand. “I’m going to ask the bar tender why the food is taking so long.”
Miia sighed and relented, loosening the muscles in her lower belly and tail to release him. “Alright, but don’t be gone long.”
He winked at her and skimmed his hand through her hair as he moved behind her. “I won’t.”
Miia turned and looked round to the guests. Mingling between extra-species was always neat to watch, though some of the lamias obviously needed to be kept under close supervision. Her wandering eye came over a table of the lecherous girls all sitting around an extremely handsome male. Mother’s entire envoy seemed enraptured with him, with amorous eyes and smooth motions showing their less-than clean intentions.
There was an electric whirring as Mero’s wheelchair slowly cycled over to her. At her side was Ms. Smith, their human representative from the Cultural Exchange Program. She was as big of a bird brain as Papi, at times, but it was because of her lackadaisical attitude that she had even met Darling. She owed a lot to the woman not having her coffee on that special morning.
“It looks like you were right to be suspicious,” Smith said. Her attention was obviously diverted to the lamia table. “My boss wanted me to ask, though, what’s the age where your race begins to… mature?”
Miia squinted at her for a moment before realizing that she was referring to the lone lamia child dancing with the boy on the floor. Miia saw a pattern to the girl’s movements, the way she flicked her waist from side to side and spun upon her hips. “Young,” she told Ms. Smith.
“Right,” she said, and made her way to the floor. “I’ll have to go and ask your mother to join the ladies at their table, then.” Her voice elevated above the speakers, “Hey, Nishijima. Your dad wants to talk to you!”
The child went scurrying away from the dance floor, over to the table with the dignitaries. Miia recognized a few of the women that were heads of the extra-species cultural committee, as well as a few from the human government. She had to remind herself how big a deal this was.
Mero cleared her throat, relaxed now that they were alone. “Was that your idea, or Ms. Smith’s?” she asked, looking to the snake pit.
“Hmm?” Miia smirked to her friend. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mero scoffed, turning to the bride. “You’re too proud for it to be anyone’s but your own.”
Miia tilted her head in recognition. A loud chortle broke from the congregated party when the figure opened the top buttons of his shirt to reveal a snake tattoo upon his chest and begun to make it dance by flexing the muscles. “Now, that’s a nice touch,” she commented approvingly.
“Doppel is an expert in misdirection,” Mero agreed. “I hadn’t been aware that she could imitate men.”
The two quietly contemplated the shapeshifter with snide confidence. Miia felt renewed vigor inside of her. Her earlier of sense aggression bubbled to the top, and this time she found the topic much more acceptable. “It’s because my mother,” she explained to Mero.
The mermaid nodded. “I had figured as such. I had an earlier run-in with one of the crowd.” She inclined her head. “The tanned girl with purple hair. She was trying to seduce the priest.”
Miia shook her head, felt a cynical chuckle come to her. “Mama told them that they’d have to find a man convince to come home with them. Probably threatened that they’d die out without some slave.” She felt her voice darkening, judgement flowing over. “I knew she’d try something like this.”
Mero turned to the bride, sensing the spite coming from her. “I thought it was just their amorous nature. Your mother would do something like that at your wedding?”
Miia glanced back to her. She looked at Mero, princess of the mermaids, adored by her people and beloved by her mother, the Queen. People would lay down their life to protect her, but she’s been told her entire life that the most romantic thing a mermaid could experience was tragedy.
Of course, she didn’t understand.
Her eyes lowered. “My mother sent me here to bring a man home. Not just any man. Someone who was strong, but kind. Handsome, but humble. She spent over a year negotiating with human governments to approve my application. This was just the first country to accept.”
Miia returned her gaze to the assembled group of her species, watched as they drooled over Doppel’s every move. She saw their subtle looks to one another, felt the scornful nature of the group as they tried to decide the order in which they’d have their fun.
“She never even asked me where I’d wanted to go,” Miia went on. “Only ever asked about the studies and dances, if I’d learned how to seduce a man yet.” Mero reached a hand over to Miia, rested it on her arm, and Miia had to force her gaze off of them. “My home is here,” she smiled, “with him.”
Mero took her hand and squeezed it before moving forwards in her chair. She embraced Miia in a familial hug. “If there’s ever a thing we can do for you, please ask.”
Miia chuckled, felt her arms tighten over Mero’s soft skin. “Of course.”
“Excuse me, ladies,” came a voice.
Miia turned back to see that the waiter had returned with a tray carrying two glasses, one of red and one of white wine. More importantly, he had with him an assistant, who was pushing a cart with enough meat on it that Miia’s jaw nearly detached.
Her tongue lulled out instinctively, and she could sense the delicious taste beating against the roof of her mouth.
The waiter bowed. “If I’m to understand your husband, I believe the bride should have the first choice for her meal.”
Miia didn’t even look at him. Her eyes reflected off of the glistening skin of a fully roasted chicken, before she swiftly turned upon a container filled with pulled pork and, next to that, one of several long sausages. Meat, *meat*, there was so much *meat*.
Mero spoke for her. “Yes, thank you. I’m sure she’d love to be served.”
The waiter nodded. “Would she like to choose herself?”
There were entire slabs worth of ribs, seared with heat and slathered with spicy barbeque. Miia had fallen in love with barbeque the moment she arrived in the country, a sandwich of pork and cheese had revealed to her more than she’d ever thought capable about food. Her tongue dipped down over her chin, and her stomach shifted her to attention. “Wha?” she spun to the waiter, quickly realizing her tongue. She rushed to hide it back in her mouth. “Oh, umm… just… serve it, please.”
The waiter bowed and clapped his hands twice. From the kitchen, a group of servers emerged and marched towards them, accompanied by a course of cheers from the guests. His assistant immediately shifted round the cart and lifted large plates from the bottom. She placed one in front of Miia, and another in front of Mero, before placing a third and a forth before the two girls.
Mero held her glass out to Miia as the woman begun piling meat onto the hungry bride’s plate. Miia, who had nearly forgotten she even had a new drink, took hers and clinked it against Mero’s. “One last gift,” Mero told her. “I picked the menu.”
Miia could have kissed her. Instead, she turned and clamped her hand around the carved roast chicken that had been dispensed onto her plate. Her nails became claws, tearing through the warm cooked flesh and slicing free the leg of the chicken. Her tummy purred, sending the gyration through her being until it came out of her mouth as a happy cooing when she bit down and took in a mouthful of the perfectly spiced meat.
“Wow, they weren’t kidding,” the assistant said, plopping a thick spoonful of mashed potatoes onto her plate. “Lamia’s certainly have quite the appetite.”
“You have no idea,” Mero said. “You do have fish as well, correct? I’d love some of the Alaskan salmon.”
“Right away, miss.”
Miia felt satisfaction all the way down to her tail. Each bite seemed tastier than the last. The beef, she soon found, had been cooked rare. Steak that tasted fresh, pork that she could hear squealing. Her heightened sense of smell, substantially increased inside of her mouth due to her Jacobson organ, was overwhelming her other sensations. All of them except for taste.
Bone after bone began to tink against the plate while Miia spun back and forth from the chicken to the ribs. Meat fell off of the bone, though she freely scooped it up in her fingers and deposited atop her tongue, wrapping it back into her mouth. Besides her, Mero sliced her fish into small and equal bites using a fork and knife.
Miia’s fingers were quickly soaked in grease, which she quickly found out when she went to grab her utensils. The white napkin was stained orange from her fingers, and she felt her eyes go wide before looking down to her dress.
Thankfully, there was no marks, though Mero giggled at her expression and gestured to a pair of wet-naps before dabbing at her cheeks. Miia then realized how sticky her mouth felt and blushed severely. The blush was entirely obscured by the barbeque sauce.
“Sorry,” she muttered, unwrapping the pack. “Just kinda hungry.”
Mero beamed. “I noticed.”
Miia next took up a piece of bread, which had been filled with the pulled pork and some cheese covered noodles. She was careful in her first bite of that, more measured. Her eyes scanned the room, though she couldn’t really tell what she was looking for.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
She noticed something, then, what she thought must be what was nagging at her mind. Darling wasn’t with her. She looked to his empty chair, saw his empty plate. Her hand, on auto-pilot, brought the sandwich to her mouth, and she bit a smaller bite, chewing it longer, tasting it far less.
Miia turned and looked over towards the bar area. She thought for a moment that he must have stopped at a table to talk with somebody, but no, everyone was sitting, and she couldn’t spot him anywhere.
“Mero? Have you seen Darling?”
The mermaid looked up from her plate. She’d been dabbing bread in olive oil, though now her neck turned slowly across the hall. “Not since I saw him standing up with you…”
Both girls then noticed Rachnera approaching the cart with an empty plate. “Evening,” she said, hardly paying them a slight of attention. All six of her ruby eyes were focused upon the meat, now heavily reduced and stored beneath lidded containers. She opened one up, and Miia caught an uncomfortable glance of the spiders glistening fangs. “Finally, can get something for us carnivores,” she said aside to the girls.
“Cerea has our health at heart,” Mero chided. “I do hope she’s able to appreciate the salad bowl we had set aside for her.”
Lightning struck Miia. It hadn’t been Darling’s absence that had made her uncomfortable.
Stronger than her stomachs growl, stronger than the breath in her lungs, Miia felt her heart beat. Her eyes returned to where Cerea had taken up post. It was empty. “Where is Cerea sitting?” she asked Mero.
“Oh, she’s sitting at my table. Right over…” Mero paused. “Hmm, that’s strange.”
The thunder followed when Miia rose from her chair, and Mero must have heard the coming storm.
“No,” she breathed. “No, she wouldn’t. Not Cerea, besides, it’s too late, isn’t it?”
Rachnera seemed to notice the girls for the first time, both staring at the entrance to the hall as is willing it to open. “What?” she asked.
Miia sprang forth like a bullet fired from a rifle. Her tail rapidly uncoiled, the muscle slamming her chair backwards with enough force for it to fling backwards and shatter against the wall. Rage flowed over her crimson scales, slithering over the floor with savage speed. Mero called after her, but Miia could hardly hear over the building hiss.
How dare she. How dare she!
She slammed against the door and spun. A pair of serving girls looked up from the stairs where they’d sat. Miia tried to bottle her rage, but she felt her chest heave with each breath. “Centaur,” she growled at the girls.
One of them pointed her finger up the stairs. “S-she went up there. The girl wearing armor?”
Miia flowed up the stairs with dizzying speed, skating past the girls and looping over the handrail in the center. She felt her lower body tense, heard the crumple of the steel, but didn’t look back. When she found that conniving, thieving… was it the hand wave that had done it? Maybe Cerea had had the same revelation, that things would always be different. That there was no chance for her to be with Darling.
There’ll be no chance of her breathing when Miia got through with her. Witch. Conniving, backstabbing, coward!!
Miia quickly found the entrance, and saw what she’d begun to dread. The winter cold was trickling down in fresh flakes of snow. She could hardly even see out into the dark murk, but she noticed something that shocked her.
A group of minotaur were standing at the entrance. The tall bull girls were having a soft exchange, smoking under the awning though still being flecked with snow. Surely, they would have seen Cerea trying to drag out Darling if they’d come this way. Her eyes then fell to the floor. No hoofprints.
A backdoor.
Miia spun and glimmered across the carpeted halls. She added rug-burn to the series of tortures she would inflict upon that backstabbing centaur. How could she do something like this? Miia didn’t know, she didn’t care. She wanted to crack that stupid armor over her chest. She wanted to snap her tail like a flail into her evil face. She wanted her Darling back.
Miia reached a back entrance, one that lead into a garden area. She looked out the small window. Spotted the hoofprints.
She cracked the door open and felt the blast of cold spread over her skin. It wound round and round her body before drilling deep inside of her. Instantly, her teeth were set chattering, and she had to close the door.
You can do this, she told herself, you *have* to do this.
It was then that she realized she was crying. Memories of Cerea by her side flickered across her mind. They had been friends. They had almost been sisters. They’d fought, they’d yelled, but they’d always made up, lived under the same roof.
*Had*, lived under the same roof.
Miia braced herself against the door, re-summoning the heat of her rage. Behind her, there was a ding. She turned back and saw Mero and Arachne come forth through the gate of a service elevator. “Miia!” Mero shouted.
There wasn’t time.
Miia slammed into the door and raced forth into the cold.
Her wedding dress was not a good insulator. Wind tore through it and groped her skin. Her tail had hardly left the door when she felt herself slowing, felt her attention dripping. Snow clung to her soft underbelly, while flakes spread over her veil. They tumbled down upon her, rapidly cooling her internal temperature. Her teeth began to chatter, and she felt her human half begin to shiver, while her snake origins pushed her to pass into a deep slumber.
She battled with the desire to run back. If Cerea couldn’t take Darling through the front, what would she do? Where would she do? Did she knock him out and run? She couldn’t figure out what the backstabber had done, she just had to stop her.
The path wound through the garden. Frost covered trees and thin shrubs sticking out, almost taunting Miia. Death, they seemed to promise. You have come here today, to this rotting place, to die.
She struggled and leant briefly upon a snow-covered bench. Her hand felt like ice, and came away covered in snow. She struggled back into motion, thoughts of Darling being harmed driving her on. Suddenly, her eyes were torn up from the hoofprints. A cacophony of sound emanated from a small nearby shed. Light spilled forth from its window, and Miia could see Cerea’s hoofprints leading to and through the front door. There was another crash.
“Darling,” Miia whispered. She raised her hands and moved. Her fingers creaked with the cold, stretching forth toward the shed.
He was fighting her, that was it. Fighting against Cerea, because he knew that he belonged with Miia.
She reached the door and leant on the handle. It swung downwards with her weight, and the door swung inwards. Miia collapsed after it.
Instantly, her body seemed to kick unto life. Heat, searing heat, sweltering with the power of the desert sun.
She flexed her stomach and her body swept inwards after her, curling around her. Cold still billowed in from the open door, but the area around her was steaming with warmth from a dozen hot lamps.
Miia rose, pushing herself up from the ground, and felt her anger renew. She moved forwards, and the door slammed shut behind her.
The shed was large, but it was dark. The burning orange light of the heat lamps made for poor illumination, but even they gave enough light to see the large dark blue van, and the knight who had buried her lance into the engine compartment.
Confused, disorientated… understanding. Miia’s eyes went to the orange lights.
“Miia, stay back,” Cerea ordered, muffled from beneath her helmet. She twisted her arm and her sword hissed when it became unsheathed. Her hooves clopped around the front of the van, attention focused.
Miia ignored her. Her heart in her throat, her tail shot forwards and snapped around the side door. It gripped the lever and pulled hard enough that the handle snapped free once the door came loose. It slid open to reveal crimson scales, scarlet hair, and deep orange eyes.
Miia’s mother wore a pink veil and a white cape. Her chest was adorned with a scandalous red and black lace bra. A small square of silk is all that kept her decent, tied round her hips. Laying beneath her tail was Darling. His tuxedo jacket was gone, and his dress shirt clung to him only in shreds. His pants still remained, with belt only just unbuckled. Around his neck, the scarlet scales of her mother’s tail glowed as if they were fresh with blood.
“Release him,” Cerea ordered.
Her mother’s gaze was on the centaur’s sword. It slowly turned to look upon her. That made it easier.
“Miia,” she smiled.
Miia’s tail impacted her mother’s chest hard enough that she was sent crashing against the other door. It reared back before slamming into her head, breaking the golden accessories she wore in her hair. “How could you?!” she screamed, tears flowing down her face. “How DARE YOU?!!”
Miia wrapped her prone figure around the body and tugged her free from the wrecked vehicle. Her tail came free of Darling’s neck. When she lay, she did not get back up. Cerea went to her, checked her, while Miia stood with her chest beating.
“She’s breathing. Knocked out.” Cerea told her. She lifted her helmet from her head and looked down upon her in disgust.
“She’s wearing the ceremonial outfit,” Miia said, speaking more to herself. “She wanted first go.”
Cerea looked up to her. Her hooves clipped against the floor. “Miia,” she whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
Miia felt her gaze deepen, her heart sink. “Please, leave.” She asked Cerea.
Cerea hesitated. “H-he could nee-”
“No,” Miia harshly declared. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the knight, though. “Please… just… just go. I can’t go back out there.”
Cerea stood for a moment longer before relenting. She stepped back. “What should I do with her?” she asked.
Miia looked darkly over her mother’s fallen figure. “Throw her to the cold.”
Cerea shifted while Miia went forwards. She replaced her sword into its scabbard. “I will take her to Ms. Smith, and the others,” she told her.
Miia looked over Darling’s body. He was ghostly pale inside of the van. His hair was dirty with sweat. Poisoned. She’d struck him with something. Not enough to hurt him, she still would have needed blood flowing.
Cerea grunted, spooling Miia’s mother over her body. She managed and got to the door when she turned back. She was met with Miia’s fierce amber eyes.
“When she wakes, tell her to never come back,” she ordered.
Cerea bent her head and clopped out into the cold.
Miia turned back to Darling. She set to work, knowing what she did of toxins and poisons. She found the injection point, by the trickle of blood and pus pooled around it. She clamped her mouth over it and pulled the toxin forth from him. She could taste the toxin inside of her mouth, bitter as the roots it was made from. She spat it out onto the shed floor and returned to his side.
He shivered, once, but quieted. His breathing came easier, as if he were simply sleeping now. Miia slid her tail round, circling it though his legs. She cuddled him in the shed, holding him to her chest. He was safe. She let herself breathe easier.
After a time, he began to stir. He quieted quickly, and Miia had thought he’d returned to sleep when he said, “Did I pass out during our dance? I knew I’d screw it up.”
His voice was scratchy, pained, but it still made Miia giggle like a little girl. Happiness flowed over her, and she felt his heat when she pulled herself deeper into their hug. “Not exactly,” she laughed.
“Umm… do you have anything to drink?” he asked her.
She tightened herself around him before loosening her grip. “I’ll look,” she said, and went from the vehicle.
The shed held nothing other out of the ordinary for a garden shed other than the heat lamps and the vehicle. Well, and the lance sticking out of its front. Miia saw the large roll up door, and curiosity made her inspect the driver’s side. She found the keys still in the ignition, theorized her mother had tried to drive off when she had been made. She also found a garage door opener and clicked it. The shed door slowly raised.
Outside, a group of six was approaching the shed. The snow had lessened, the wind died down. Miia recognized each of her friends while they slowly came to the front of the shed door. They stopped on the other end of threshold.
Miia went from the vehicle and approached them. She saw that each of them held something, even Papi was struggling to hold one. A small plate with fluffy white cake. Miia couldn’t help the smile that came to her. She looked each girl in the eyes. Mero, Rachnera, Lala, Suu, Papi… and Cerea. She felt her eyes wilt before Cerea’s blue gaze.
“Say nothing,” Cerea told her. “I understand.”
Miia knew that she did. She nodded, and Cerea returned it.
Her family outstretched their arms, offering her the plates of her wedding cake. She turned to Mero. “Do you have anything to drink?” she asked.
Mero nodded and withdrew a water bottle from a side pocket of her chair. Miia went to each girl and thanked them. She took the plates, in turn, and placed them onto the hood of the van. Mero spoke for all assembled. “If you ever need us,” she said. “If you ever need anything, please ask.”
Miia nodded. Again, she turned to Cerea. “Thank you, for saving my husband.”
Cerea nodded.
Miia shifted awkwardly. “Umm, you can take your spear… if you want it.”
The centaur chuckled and stepped forwards. She rested one hand on the point and pulled.
The lance did not come free.
She put both hands and tugged on it. “Foul invention,” she swore.
Miia smiled.
The others left shortly after, and Miia returned into the van. Darling was sitting up, now. He’d taken off his shoes and his socks and was sitting against the far wall. “Are we in a shed?” he asked while Miia slithered in with two plates of cake.
“I think so,” she told him, handing him the water bottle.
He popped the cap of and drank while she fully entered the vehicle. Twenty-six feet was a lot of wife, but she managed to find room for herself mostly without crushing him. Mostly. Yet, still, he’d taken a bit of her tale and pulled it over onto her lap. His fingers massaged round the sides. When she settled back, she leaned onto his shoulder, and he placed his head upon hers. “Why are we in a shed?”
Miia elbowed his side. “Would you stop asking questions? We have cake.”
His hand squeezed her tail affectionately. “You raise a good point.”
Miia laughed and sat up. The little plates had had small forks with them, and Miia used that to slice into the vanilla frosted cake.
“Hey,” Darling said, before she could lift her fork. “Open wide.”
He lifted the bite to her face and she turned to him and beamed. She bit down on the fork and slid the piece into her mouth. Then, she did the same for him.
“Mhm,” he sighed. “This is great cake.”
Miia snorted. “I’m happy you think that. There’s a couple more pieces we need to eat.”
He tilted his head before shrugging and nodding. “Well,” he said, “considering we’re in a shed, I guess cake for dinner isn’t so bad.”
Miia groaned, remembering the dinner cart. “Oh, gosh… I hope Mero’s able to convince them to give us leftovers.”
Darling lifted another bite for her to eat and she took it. She chewed it over for a few moments, thinking, before swallowing it.
Finally, she spoke up. “Seven hundred and eighty-seven pounds.”
Darling squinted.
“You asked me how much I weighed, earlier.”
His eyes remained close before suddenly opening very, very, wide.
Miia felt her cheeks rapidly darkening. “I’m twenty-six feet long, okay?!” she pouted.
His mouth opened, and then closed, and then opened again. He blinked. “I think…” he said, hesitating, “that I’m very glad that I invested in an excellent bed frame.”
Miia broke into a fit of giggles. “You can be such a pervert,” she said, poking his thigh. She was surprised to find another bite of cake offered to her, though she took it.
Then, she leant up, and kissed him fully, lettering her lips linger upon his. When they broke, she pulled back, looked into his handsome eyes. “I love you, Miia.”
“I love you too, Darling.”
******************************************************************************
Mero had been able to work her magic, though Miia was confident that it was more her pocketbook than her charm that had done the trick. The venue had been profusely apologetic to Miia once she and Darling had returned to the hall, which was almost empty at the later hour. They even offered to cater for a Christmas event for the couple.
Darling had been about to refuse, as the pair had planned to spend their honeymoon in their new house just being with one another, but Miia interjected. What better way to break in the house than having a Christmas party? Plus, it was so close to everyone else, it’d be a shame if they didn’t see everyone… at least once in a while. Tonight would be their first night in the home, but having guests over might warm the place up.
Darling, bless his heart, agreed. They were then given some trays of leftover meats, each with special preparation notices from the head chef on its side. Darling still made Miia promise that she wouldn’t try to cook it without him, though. Their limo then arrived and carried them home.
Miia couldn’t help but shiver when she exited the back. She felt infinitely better, and it’d calmed down, but there was still snow on the ground. “Why did we get married in winter?” she asked.
“Because you wanted to lay around for three months and say it was for our honey moon,” Darling remarked.
“Oh, right,” she laughed. “I can still go to work, you know!”
He titled his brow with a knowing smirk. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I can get the bags.”
He took her hand in his and they made their way through the entrance wall and down a small path. Miia could feel the guiding stones beneath the snow while they passed beneath a small archway and she looked upon her new home for the first time.
He’d kept it a secret from her, insisted she didn’t see it until tonight. She’d expected something like their old home, a glorified apartment complex. The building before her had a yard. A small path led to the front door, with a small fountain on its right with a little section cleared away. A garden, she’d always wanted a garden. And there was a bench by the fountain, and trees on either side of the front. A two-story building, it looked more akin to a cottage with its natural surroundings, with a sloped roof and warm colors. It was a home, her and Darlings home.
“How much… How did…” Miia questioned, unable to figure out which she wanted to ask first.
Darling wrapped his hand around her waist. “Ms. Smith pulled some strings with the housing committee chair, invited her to the wedding. ‘We’re public figures,’ she said. What do you think?”
Miia turned and wrapped her hands around him. It was like her story had come true, a fairy tale prince had come and taken her away. Saved her from becoming a monster.
“I love it,” the girl said. She broke off the hug and kissed him, deeply, passionately. She pulled on his hand and made for the door. “Lets go in, I’m freezing.”
She was halted when he hadn’t moved forward with her. She turned back to see him nervously looking over her long tail. “I don’t know if I can lift all of you,” he scratched the back of his head, “but I’d like to carry you inside.”
Miia felt her heart strings chime in tune pulled herself close to him. “Of course,” she said. “I’d love that.”
Darling bent his arm beneath her tail and scooped her forwards. She only had to push off of the ground a little to help him keep his balance, taking her in his arms. He smiled down to her and she felt her heart beat quicken. Her amorous nature was taking hold. She wanted him to take her inside, bring her straight to their room. She wished to be with him, fully, sincerely. To tie the knot.
Then, she noticed the extremely awkward look on his face while he stood staring at the front door. He turned down to Miia and grinned sheepishly. “Umm, I need to grab my keys.”
Miia giggled in his arms, and after a spur of inspiration, lifted her tail. She flicked her bulk over his right shoulder and let herself lay comfortably upon his left arm. “You’re so cute,” she told him.
“I’m lucky you think that,” he laughed.
“Yes, you are.”
He unlatched the door and it swung open. Darling carried Miia over the threshold, grunting beneath the extra weight of her tail. She dropped it, though latched her arms behind his head. He looked down to her, slight confusion in his eyes.
“Well?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to take me to the bedroom? It’s so cold in here,” she purred.
Darling smiled. He looked back towards the door. “What about the extra food?” he asked.
“The limo driver can bring it,” she shrugged. “Or, he can have it.” She paused, letting her next words drip with her voice. “I am famished, but not a single thing that I want isn’t already in my arms.”
Darling swallowed. She watched his Adam’s apple bounce when he took in a long deep breath, before letting it out and nodding his head. He carried Miia up a short flight of stairs and through another door, placing her onto an enormous bed with silken sheets. The moonlight shown through a high window, illuminating Miia’s amber eyes while he slid the veil off her head and she undid the buttons on his shirt. They could feel one another trembling, their hands becoming more excited as their fingers revealed more and more of one another, until Miia couldn’t take it any further. She pulled herself up to him let her lips lock onto his, felt his searching hands climb her bare waist and settle atop of her breasts.
The fire roared in the hearth, that night. A blazing flame that had smoldered for years until a crimson blast flowered up and nearly consumed the house. Eventually, he grew tired, and Miia wrapped herself around him, yet still they kept. Their hands roamed freely, and they kissed one another everywhere. In some places, harder than others. The flames quieted down, but it never went out. The crackling fire kept throughout the deep cold night.
Comments
Undertaker
I would absolutly consider doing some more explicit stuff with this series! I'd like to leave that up for the Content Creator tiers to suggest, but I'm sure I can also talk with the commissioner about something now that they can be shared with an actual audience lol
Monkfish
These were actually the first stories of yours I read, made me join your patreon. Would you consider making them explicit for the explicit tier?
