CHAPTER 4.

"Have you heard?"

"Snake people? Of course, Slytherin they called them."

"No, no! For real, friend!"

"Well, I don't know if it counts… see that woman over there?"

"Yeah, the brunette."

"Not long ago, she sold a painting with a snake on it… but it wasn't a normal one."

In fact, that young woman was widely known in other places as an aggressive art collector. She would have everything in his home, from supposedly cursed dolls to haunted sculptures. There wasn't a single thing with a hex on it that could escape her eye in those matters. Auctions were a sport for her, and she was an Olympic athlete. It always had to be something graphic, something she could touch or feel. Despite this, she had a certain attraction to paintings among all possible expressions of art… from Goya and his "Black paintings" to Velasquez and "Las Meninas", her reach among the stricken took her to know about the evil curses that some brushes carry with them, and this allowed her to have an especially keen eye for these matters.

Most of the works of art always had to go in line with her ideas of decoration, she would gladly struggle to find the appropriate thing that would fit the golden theme of the living room on the second floor of the house where she lived alone, normally surrounded by the uncanny activity of all her collection.

This meant that time had managed to transform her into the perfect antithesis of all curses, the repertory of spells she constantly used to deal with all the roaming around late at night would turn her into the perfect witch to fend off the darkest aspects of magic, yet, she would have little to no interest in the scholar component of it… and her last acquisition of the month made her stray even farther from that light.

It was a painting with a black snake on it, it had been made from a frontal point of view and the creature presented a passive-aggressive position that highlighted the golden scales it had, making elegant rings across its body that were the perfect accessory for the general aspect of her living room. She simply couldn't resist when she saw it, even when the curse it possessed wasn't specified, it was a normal occurrence when dealing with this kind of matters. Many where the nights she spent trying to find the correct spell to deal with a haunting apparition just so she could sleep well or keep contacting possible sellers… this is the kind of things that will never change, and another specimen with an unknown nature to it can surely be dealt with through the overlapping effects of one or many counter spells.

So, the first night the painting spent in her home was received with brief lapses of attention where she would look at it from the threshold of the doors she was going through. It was always a little pause that didn't lead anywhere, but it seemed enough after the silence had managed to creep inside her head. Expectation started to drive her wild as the night progressed and it wasn't long until she gave up and thought of it as another painting in her home and call it a day.

She took off her garments and went to the kitchen for a glass of water wearing only her night gown, it was a glossy dark dress that made her look like an evil empress of sorts. Interestingly enough, it seemed that was the only thing that would trigger something akin to a curse as the eyes of the snake followed her back to her room without being noticed at all. She lied down on her bed, put herself under the sheets and very quickly fell asleep after a whole day of hunting had been successfully lived through.

It was very late at night when it happened… the snake had abandoned the painting.

She opened her eyes in the middle of the night to find out that something was moving once more on her wooden floor, but she preferred to remain still until things started to crash against the walls. Yet, such moment never came. The only thing that continued was the sound of something being helplessly dragged across the floor, something heavy and massive. At some point, it could clearly be felt more than heard, as if something were scratching a board with its nails, right in the back of her head.

Despite all this, she didn't want to stand up and swing around her wand. Instead, she decided to remain still and try to fall asleep… at least, until the door of her room opened, and she could barely understand the nature of the attack.

Sleep paralysis, she thought.

She had a very clear view of her window from where she was but couldn't move a single finger. Very quickly, she began feeling a cold sensation on her feet. It didn't take long for her to realize that her blanket was being slowly taken away of the formula and it was the cold wind of the place she lived in that managed to make her feel this way. The cold kept going up as she understood that more of her body was being uncovered, but things started to change at waist level when the cold on her feet started to be replaced by an almost wet but warmth sensation that spiraled on its way up. She felt her legs being tightly pressed against one another, then her thighs, and then… her waist was perfectly framed by the mysterious strength that possessed her.

It was tough, yet comfortable and relatively gently. At that point, the mechanism that worked it all was going around her hips over and over, as if it were carefully wandering, touching, and relieving itself with the curves of her body. It would continue to her belly where some stillness would be acquired and remained like that until she could clearly feel how her body was almost being totally separated from the surface of the bed. It wasn't the cold approaching and leaving as soon as this "force" took its place, but a complex mechanism that explored her body.

Then, the hiss of a snake could be heard increasing progressively in intensity until she felt it vibrating on her neck and that was all.

The morning presented itself suddenly as soon as she could move once more and found herself being a total mess. Her hair was a disaster, the sheets of the bed were touching the floor and the rest of her room presented itself as if an earthquake had taken place during the episode she went through.

She simply couldn't believe what she was feeling in the moment… an utter sense abandonment going hand in hand with a deranged joy that didn't make sense.

Her whole body ached deliciously, she almost needed to have conscious control of her breathing while the sensation wore off. The cuckoo clock had to pop out and squeal around for her to get back on the rails as she gave proper thought to the situation, she sat up and stretched her arms on the air feeling ten years younger. One of her arms had escaped her night gown and she couldn't care less as she looked down to found her swollen and extremely sensible breasts. She ran her hands down her body and sighed deeply at the thoughts that were roaming around, then she let herself fall once more on the bed as she thought about the possible causes for this, and it all went back to the mysterious panting she had bought.

She stood up and went back to it once more only to discover that the snake had been replaced by a lamia… a male one.

Tanned skin blending nicely as it darkened up near the black scales, golden pupils that went along the colored rings, and black hair that reached the shoulders but didn't go past them. Her jaw was about to drop when she regained enough of herself to look away and breathe in, just to keep thing civilized as she kept the hysteria under the skin. Perhaps, he himself hadn't taken notice that his other form was now active in the painting or perhaps… he knew about this and was showing off.

Having a conscious look around made it all perfectly clear, the track of fallen objects led perfectly from the painting to her room while the rest of her belongings remained in place as if nothing had happened. Her suspicions solidified in front of her as she went downstairs and confirmed this to be true.

She had been attacked last night.

Nonetheless, the danger he could represent was greatly obscured by the alluring possibility it entailed. Loneliness is a thing, she's been dealing with it during her entire life in a world where there simply aren't enough men capable of understanding her wild taste in art, nor to resist it for more than a romantic dinner. To have one man already in here was a big moment in her life and she wasn't going to let it pass, this was perhaps the only curse that could be defined as being better than a blessing.

She decided to put everything back into place, even if it meant doing everything again the next morning. Then, she went for a shower and walked in front of the painting wearing nothing but a towel as if presenting a challenge of sorts, and after that, she got herself in a nice dress that highlighted her slim body. Her intimate silhouette could be perfectly perceived through the light that entered her house, and her unexpected guest could surely rejoice in the realm of possibilities that thrived behind the feeble clothing. She started up her inquiring attitude in the search of a culprit, the painter's name… only to find nothing but more information about lamias and how they were driven far away from the common realms of the magical world.

Commonly depicted as monstruous creatures and lingering threats, they must've have had something good in them to gain so much traction in the avenues of the painters, theatres, and history documentaries. Many of them were attributed subterranean cities and technological advances that could rival magic in some respects, some were considered nothing more than a simple boogeyman, and others… were lady-killers. This meant that their human components were even more prominent than the usual. In the pictures, it seemed their torsos were a series of low and highs in which any woman would love to lose herself… but in this point of her life, she can no longer play the role of the prey.

Aggressive mimicry they called it, when the real predator takes the mantle of the vulnerable, the enfeebled, and the weak… just to reach its greatest purpose.

This night, she would pretend to fall asleep and let him move forward with his inner machinations.

She prepared everything as she would for any other night while her thoughts wandered around the reason of the sale, it wasn't as cheap as the most problematic hauntings of her room, nor it was easy to deal with the other possible buyers… but a realization took place in that moment when the hunt was on, and it was the great competence she had to deal with back then. Did they know about the nature of the hex that inhabited the painting? Or is the alluring capability of the lamia inside of it strong enough to break the barrier of voluntary consciousness and reach out for a buyer even when it was shut down in the canvas?

A letter arrived then, flying through her window in the shape of a paper plane… she merely had to look at the name on the paper to build some thoughts about the possible contents. It was Clara Leyster, a sexual deviant known by her uncanny preferences. And one of the many people that participated in the auction of that day. She tossed the letter away in her paper bin and threw herself on the bed while the sick pride of a winner fed her entire, to get the upper arm on her meant that it was really known what the painting was about and under those new, exciting circumstances, she wouldn't allow doubt to plant a seed on her head. On the other hand, a lamia's touch seemed attractive to her in the current moment, as if possessed by a dangerous boldness that yearned for experimentation.

She turned off her lamp and settled in her bed waiting for the wooden floor of her home to start screeching at his weight, but the edge of sleeplessness seemed to repel it. She secretly murmured a protecting spell and stayed there until her eyelids started to weight more than the usual, it was then that the wood could be heard whispering while the lamia heavily applied his hands on it. The rest of his body could be almost felt in the whole frame of her house as it moved towards her room. She closed her eyes, and once again let the door be opened and the threshold of her room be crossed.

Cold partakes in their meeting as the blanket starts to be taken away.

Her legs were revealed under what little light remained in the room and led up to a waist that wanted to be held tonight, this time he had taken off the whole blanket first and stood quietly above her while the entirety of his body populated the room and once again… things started falling off from their respective places, and her sanity too, as if it were a thing that could be put in place or taken away by mere will.

His presence in the room was like the arrival of a mysterious mantle settling on her body, which led to the sensation of his stare on him. It was something midway there between a dark entity and a gentle warmth… born from the touch of his scales as they entered in contact with her skin and started tightening her body while going upwards. It kept going until the entirety of her legs were carefully wrapped by his body, the mattress could be heard being occupied by her visitor as he closed in and touched her right cheek with the back of his hand, which cautiously traveled down on her neck, until he reached her left breast and held it. Softly at first but increasing the pressure progressively as if he tried to test the boundaries.

She felt as if he had wrapped his hand around her whole heart in that moment, he then started going back up using his hand as if it were a knife, with the lower edge going up her sternum and reaching her neck to stay there while the shade his upper body provided approached her and a soft touch could be felt on it. He pressed his lips on her neck, and gently went up from there, until a real kiss could be felt right next to her mouth.

What followed was something she wasn't expecting at all.

A softer tissue of sorts begun sliding across the gap between her lips, a brief pause followed, and everything became clear the next time it happened. He was trying to pry open her lips with his tongue, and by the third time a small success presented itself with the help of his hand. He had slightly run his fingers on them right before pressing his lips on her own while a little toying took place.

His natural strength meant his upper body was literally floating above her thanks to the strength of his beastly side, leaving his hands free to hold her face as he continued his deed until his hands went even lower while holding the night gown's neck. He took it away and tore it apart to release her body from the cloth.

His hands travelled all the way to her own, he dragged them up as he kissed her in a progressively rougher way while his tongue went inside and started exploring with enough moderation for her to resist the contact. His body had started to lie down on hers as the intensity increased, and the whole volume of his tongue finally made her respond back as it travelled deeply into her.

Not with rejection, it was a rather joyous thing what she was feeling… something that could only be described as a hysterical madness kept on leash.

The volume of his tongue seemed almost ever changing, she couldn't tell the precise limits it possessed, and he didn't seem bothered about her regaining fractions of her conscience. It seemed that part of the hex he came up with was also capable of bending the will and this was only the proper response of a victim, so… she would gladly play along as he went in and out.

She could have been getting devoured from the inside and she wouldn't mind at all as her eyes opened slightly and revealed the serene expression on his face, followed by his ample shoulders closing in while more of his body rested on her. She would have embraced him right then if he had allowed her, but the strength his arms emitted was enough for her to not even attempt such a thing. Everything was perfect right… where she was.

His chest started to weight on her own, and his tongue went totally out in that very moment. It seemed as if he were stealing her breath in that instant, while his fingers managed to intertwine with hers as the entirety of his body tightened around her while she let out a single whimper of pleasure at the fact she was facing. He had started to move his hips carefully, trying to make her turn around to take her from behind which is something that could be considered natural in his species… but she simply didn't yield in that aspect. Her body was moving at his own rhythm, what was supposed to happen from her side wasn't taking place in the slightest.

It was then that she managed to release one of her legs and stretched it right in front of his face. It was something she hasn't done since she was a teenager during her ballet practices, but a resource that would find a purpose right here as she showed off her flexibility and spread open. This was something a male lamia wasn't supposed to have experienced, to feel the tight grip of a woman's legs around their body, to feel them tightening and releasing was something most of his kind could only dream about.

He fell to her in that moment and abandoned the grip of her hands to embrace her as he thrusted inside and her legs stealthily found a way around his body to tighten up. His hands slide across her back and reach down below to get a hold of her thighs… ensuring they remain open while he lets his weight fit that spot and the total strength of his body focuses on it.

He would push inside of her repeatedly with a certain lack of restraint that would lead here down the road of deranged pleasure, his strength was surely doing some harm to her, but she couldn't think about consequences in the current moment. Her thoughts went stray thanks to the persistent rhythm of his hips, taking and giving, provoking, and subduing. It continued until strength failed her, and her voice started coming out in the shape of contained moaning that would be drowned by gasps and sighs as the bed started squeaking.

He then thrusted hard and remained there for a couple of seconds while she clenched her teeth, and a deep sigh followed. He would then lift one of her legs alone as part of his body pressed on the other, and like that, he would continue even further. Reaching a new height of pain and pleasure at the same time, with the lower segment of his body being heavy enough to make part of her leg feel numb while he went even further in a position where she could feel both sides of his identity blooming as he continued. His belly dance was unique, he moved with perfect balance between grace and roughness that kept her in place with not a single complaint that could possibly surface out of the pain he was provoking. It was perfectly followed by the imposing posture his arms had acquired while holding her and it took him to a point where the pressure that he exercised on her other leg diminished and she was able to push herself from the mattress and get on the top while pressing hard on him.

It was an inconceivable event that made him open his eyes wide, she would breathe heavily on him as she swiftly moved her hips to get him out of her and sit just in the right place to display his erect member with her belly as the background. Then, she started moving back and forth as he tried to regain back the control and this time it was her who held his hands and press them against his chest to continue rejoicing on her own while a certain expression of discomfort started to form in his face.

As if his pride depended on the way he embraced her, as if dominion was that worth of a hassle to bring that face in here.

It didn't do more stimulate her in a way that only broken innocence could, she continued using her labia to press his erect member against the surface of his body while his animal side moved across all the room, making objects fall, and bringing new marks on the wooden shelves that she hasn't changed since she arrived.

It's his hushed helplessness that drives her to this, to feel his beating genitalia so close and so far.

He had to moan for her to change her demeanor, she would briefly lift herself up, press his hands against his chest with her forearms and introduce him back inside as she continued doing what she wanted until her own back gave up on her as she laid down on his chest among little sparks of voice mixed with fast breathing.

His lower body started moving rapidly then, and very quickly she would find herself lying down on her belly while his arms embraced her. He would then try to fit properly on the curvature of her body while the rest of him would hold tight in place as he entered her once more. The wavelike movement eventually made her feel as if she were part of him, another layer of skin on his body, another golden ring among his scales and it was like that… for the whole night.

This event repeated itself until one of their encounters ended up in an accidental bite, while she was very well instructed in dark spells and curses… biology never grabbed enough interest for her to be considered valuable at all. For the first time in her life, she had to walk inside a hospital and try to go around the concept of snake bites with her clinical condition worsening as time went on. In the end, she couldn't do more than confess under utter shame that what had just taken place was a bite from her lamia lover, something that's frowned upon many in certain parts of the world.

While the first incident was carefully dealt with, the event would repeat itself as time went on. It was then she thought about the letter this woman sent her, this deviant… only to discover that it was a warning about the nature of the lamia inside the painting.

According to it, there would be a day when the poisoning he induces would become unbearable for her body and lead to her death. He will continue to keep biting her by "accident" until this day comes, a moment that will be followed by the snake in the painting devouring her entirely unless she sold the painting and warned the next buyer through written text alone.

Now, the nature of the curse is finally under the light for her.

She was lucky enough to think back to the moment of their first meeting and rearrange some things around it, knowing well she couldn't give him up like that… she prepared an auction of her own and a letter for the next buyer.

Author's note:

Thank you for reading, honey!

Goa here, I really hope you had a good time reading this chapter. I've heard that people who write a review before leaving are given free hugs in their way out! (with arms, for real)

I have a little surprise for the next chapter in line. It's going to take you far, far away from this domain, but I hope you like it.