A Tale of Fur and Flesh (3 page)

“Come now, Snake.  Fill my abyss with the entirety of
your sex,” Lally bid.

Her tongue, denied pleasure once before, plunged
skilfully into the snake’s ear.  He released a rumbling moan.  His grip on her
wrists strengthened as she nibbled the lobe and licked at the outer flesh.  It
was working.  Snake could hardly deny his desire now.

With the force of a cobra, Snake thrust his
tail-shaft into Lally’s cunt.  Never could she have anticipated the thrill his
sex would produce.  Inside her body, his tail trembled.  It thrust not only
back and forth, but in any and every direction, expertly rubbing the heavenly
centre of her cavern.

Held firmly in place by Snake’s powerful grip, Lally
could scarcely writhe with pleasure.  She encouraged his motion with cries of
affirmation.  Snake’s cool chest slithered against her as he thrust.  His skin
was soft and smooth, smoother even than the silk of her gown.  He slid left and
right, his body exerting a welcome pressure upon hers.  Her skilled cunt
clamped onto his rattling tail, elevating the sensations against its tender
walls.

Wrapping her bare legs around his, Lally trust
forward against the snake.  His laboured breath cooled her neck.  The pulsing
of Snake’s tail in her cunt encouraged her to she push against him, to push
hard.  As his exertions increased, Snake’s exclamations sounded more pained
than pleasured.  His breath had been earthy and cool.  Now it was tinged with a
metallic aroma.  Something was dreadfully wrong.  And yet the sensation Snake
produced within her core was so thrilling and deep she could not halt the act. 
He was everywhere.  She felt his vibrations pulsing through her veins to the
very tips of her toes.  A deep moan exploded from Lally’s throat as she threw
her hips up against his.  Even when she felt that he was through, her cunt
resonated with intense aftershocks of pleasure.

Snake released his firm grip on Lally’s wrists.  He
scooped her into his arms.  A guttural hiss exploded from him as he arched his
back.  Lally ran her hands along the snake’s cool sides, augmenting his body’s
spasmodic convulsions.  When she felt something cool and wet upon Snake’s skin,
she brought her hand to the level of her eyes.

The liquid was scarlet. 
Gott im Himmel
, it
was blood!  There was blood everywhere!  Was it hers?  She forced Snake upright
on the branch.  No, no, except for the scratches along her back from the tree
bark, Lally was not injured.  The blood flowed from Snake!  It gushed from a
set of wounds on his right side.

“Snake! What has caused this gash?” Lally shrieked,
covering his wounds with her hands.  Snake did not respond.  His eyes fell
about her waist, where she had earlier strapped her knife.  Her heart sank. 
Lally had done this!  She had killed the pale creature. “Why did you not tell
me my knife was piercing you?” she demanded.  But how could she feel angry with
Snake for suffering when it was she who murdered him?

“The pleasure was overwhelming,” he admitted.  “I
could not bear to stop, and now I shall not be able to watch over you as your
mother requested.”

The jaded misery of her young heart exploded. “My
mother?”

Life drained fast from Snake as the blood of his
physical form seeped from his side.  “The creatures of the forest adored the
late Queen Gwladys,” he explained.  “We vowed to watch over you, her daughter, and
to protect you if you faced peril.  The time is nigh, princess Lally.  There is
danger for you in that castle.”

Snake choked on the blood escaping into his throat,
just as her mother had done when she lay dying.  Lally’s concern for Snake was
genuine, but what was all this about her own impending doom?  “Please live,
dear Snake,” she said with an encouraging smile.  “I must know of this danger
you mention.  The time for what is nigh?  Please tell me!”

“You must flee the castle, princess Lally.  Come to the
woods and share your love with the creatures who reside here.  When you do,
they will be released from their animal forms and become human.  Their skins
shall be yours to keep, and with them you shall form a mantle.  Henceforth, you
shall be called Allerleirauh and you shall be protected by your coat of ragged
furs.  How I wish I could live on to protect you, your highness…”

The snake’s breathing became strenuous.  A fit of
coughing overtook him until his pale face became tinged with blue. Lally’s hot
tears flowed onto his core and mingled with the blood of his wound.  “No, you
must not die!” she shrieked.  “You must not and you shall not!  Tell me, Snake,
what danger is there in the castle?  Snake?”

But there was no response.  The creature did not
cough now.  He made no sound.  He did not breathe.  He did not move.  Snake was
dead and Lally had killed him.  Her screams resounded throughout the woods as
her eyes shed a torrent of tears.  Whatever ill awaited her at home, it was
well deserved. 
Murderer!
  The princess all in black cried until she
fell into darkest slumber.

 

Chapter Three

 

When Lally awoke, her victim had vanished.  She lay
upon the wide branch of the mulberry tree.  No sign of the murdered snake.  Had
it all been a dream?  But the bodice of her dress remained torn, and her
breasts had taken on the pattern of the tree bark against which she slept. 
When she stretched out her arms, her hands met something smooth and black.  It
appeared to be the shed skin of her alluring Snake—metallic black, long and
wide.  The ache in her heart, which had been washed away by the tides of sleep,
now resurfaced.  What had Snake said as he died?  That her love would shed the
enchanted coats worn by the creatures of the woods.  That she must amass these
hides and form a protective mantle.  That there was danger at home…

“There is no danger in my castle,” Lally disputed as
she climbed out of the tree.  “There is hardly any life there.  What peril
could there be?”  Perhaps the king’s councillors sought to punish or reform
her.  If Lally were truly in danger, the enchanted walnut mother had given her
ten years ago would open up to provide assistance.

To conceal her bare chest as she returned to the
castle, Lally fashioned the wide snake skin into a new bodice for her tattered
gown.  With the skins left over, she made tall boots as well.  Advisors and
chatelaines would certainly whisper and gossip as she passed by in her ripped
crimolines and black snakeskin.  Elderly townspeople would find her appearance
frightening and children would avoid her in the streets.  Lally crept home on
the tiptoes of her snakeskin boots.

“Your highness,” a deep but urgent voice greeted her
as she snuck in the door.  “Have you any idea what time it is?”

“Well, councillor Offal, the moon is in the sky, so I
should guess it is night time.  It surprises me that such a learned man would
require my assistance in determining the time of day,” Lally mocked.  Offal had
always been an easy mark.

“I haven’t time for your tomfoolery, princess.  The
king is about!”

“About to what?”

“Enough of your humour,” Offal replied, grabbing her
by the wrist. “Your father has left his chambers today.  He is currently in the
council room and he wishes to see you.”

Lally’s heart beat wildly in her chest.  She even
dared to throw her arms around councillor Offal, despite his abhorrence of
physical affection.  “Father wishes to see me?” she cried as he pushed her
away.  “Oh, I must change gowns.  I could not bear for him to see me like this
after ten years apart.  I wish to be pretty for him, as I was when I was a
child.”

“Come with me, daft girl,” Offal muttered, leading
Lally up the main staircase.  “You are a woman now, not a child. I would
appreciate if you would try to appear a proper monarch before your father.  We
will open up your mother’s chambers and you shall wear a gown of hers.  I
always did favour the one silvery as moonlight.”  Stepping back, he paused to
take a longing look at Lally.  His expression appeared spellbound as he
observed her face.  He leaned in close.  For a small moment, she thought he
might kiss her and she knew she would let him.  But instead he said, “Why is
there tree bark in your hair?  And blood on your hands?  Never mind!  I do not
wish to know.  Just clean yourself up before your father sees you.  The king is
suddenly an impatient man, so do be swift.”

Lally often sorted through mother’s things, though
always in private.  How strange it felt to look at mother’s gowns right under
Offal’s nose.  The gown silvery as moonlight was nowhere to be found, so Lally
chose the copper dress from among her late mother’s apparel.  Offal stepped out
of the chamber.  When she was dressed and ready, they rushed to the council
room.  He still held her by the wrist, as though she was a child.

“Oh, father!” Lally exclaimed, running to greet him.
He had aged terribly.  His white hair and beard were now long and straggly. 
But what did she care?  It was father!  He had come out of his grief to rejoin
the world of cheerful people. Leaping into the old man’s lap as she had done in
childhood, she cried, “Father, I have missed you terribly!  Why did you never
respond when I asked you to wander the woods with me?  To take lunch with me? 
To teach me alchemy and mathematics?  Well, never mind.  That’s all in the past.
 Here you are now, and here you shall stay with me forever!”

“And here
you
shall stay with
me
forever,” the King repeated as Lally threw her arms around him and kissed his
sunken cheeks.

She hated to think it, but his nearly transparent
flesh made her cringe.  There was something changed in his voice as well. 
Lally tried not to be disturbed by its slow and unfamiliar tone, but there was
something in the way he spoke that made the hair of her arms stand on end.

“My councillors have counselled me,” King Galyn
continued.  While Lally waited for her father to continue his thought, she slid
from his lap and took a seat next to him.  He was gazing so intently at her
face, at her hair, at her adult body, she felt uncomfortable being so close to
him.

“Then they are serving their purpose,” Lally finally
chuckled to pierce the silence.

“They prophesy danger from the Kingdom of the North.”

“Danger!” Lally exclaimed.  Snake’s warning bubbled
to the surface of her mind.  The danger he spoke of was political!  Well, that was
no worry.  If there was war, it would be between their people and her people. 
She would be safe within the confines of the castle.  What a relief!

“Council has urged me to take back the reins in
anticipation, to show the North we are not a Kingdom to be trifled with.”

“That is wonderful, father,” Lally encouraged. “You
were always a fair and considerate leader.  The people will be as delighted by
your return as I am!”

With a joyful heart, she kissed father’s hands. 
Supinating his palms, he took her cheeks in his bony clutches.  His cold
fingers sent shivers down Lally’s spine.  She bolted upright in her chair,
sliding away from her father.  It was only then she noticed her treasured
walnut sitting on the council table.  Customarily, it was kept beneath her
pillow.  He must have been inside her chambers.

“That gown was your mother’s,” he said, casting his
gaze along the copper silk of Lally’s fine bodice.  That look, that stare, did
not match the affectionate gazes she remembered from the halcyon days of early
childhood.  Was this man, whose breath wheezed from his beak-like nose, truly
her father?  He had grown so very old in ten years.  And there was something
indefinably yet unmistakeably different about him.

“Yes, “ she said. He
pressed his hand to hers.  She slipped her hand away from his. “It still bears
the tiny tears from that day the sky opened up.  Do you remember?”

Father’s stare was blank at first, but Lally poured
her hope into him.  He must recall that day. His eyes lit up.  “Yes, I do
remember.  We were perambulating through the clearing when we were hit by heavy
rains.  Your mother scooped you into her arms and we ran through the thicket
until we reached the shelter of the trees.  Her dress—that dress—was torn along
the hem.  ‘Every adventure is worth some sacrifice,’ she said to you.”  His
smile was wistful when he said,  “You look just like her.”

Lally smiled pitifully at the mournful king.  Would
he never abandon his grief?  Perhaps he only required her help and
encouragement.  She would do anything for her father, if only he would be well
again.

“I must inform you of a certain matter,” he went on. 
When he again placed his hand on hers, she did not flinch.  “My councillors
advise that if I am to resume my leadership of the kingdom, I ought to have a
queen by my side.”

“Must you?” Lally asked.  She tried to consider the
matter strategically.  “Yes, I suppose you must.  It would convince our people
and our enemies you are quite yourself again.”

Her father nodded slowly.  “I am in complete agreement.” 
There was a strange gaze in his silence.  It made Lally feel embarrassed,
though she was not certain why.  Her father tapped his palm against the council
table with great resolution.  “As I look upon your womanly form, my mind is
set.  Lally, I should like to marry you.”

Lally offered a generous chuckle.  “What a strange
sense of humour father has acquired during his years of seclusion.  I am not
quite sure I understand it, I admit.”

Other books

From Dust and Ashes by Goyer, Tricia
The Last Praetorian by Christopher Anderson
Her Kind of Hero by Diana Palmer
Bad Hair Day by Carrie Harris
Mike Stellar by K. A. Holt
The Light in the Wound by Brae, Christine


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024