Beauties and Beasts

Chapter 6: brought to you by Sewing men, the sewers of us all

Kidnapped by the sexy snake man, oh my! He seems kinda nice, but is it really niceness? Not really, because Stockholm syndrome only works on the WEAK (said the first victim ever). And cave-living is the new chic. You know it! And that's right, I know what I did with that title! WHY DOES MY SHOULDER ITCH!?

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Shay hugged the folded snakeskin for nothing else than it was the only thing she had to hold onto. Fine gravel lining the floor of the cave dug into her bare thighs and the cold stone wall pressed along her back. Only the strip of hide about her breasts and hips served as protection, and already her feet had gone numb.

At the front of the cave, the statuesque man bent over a budding campfire, his long scarlet snake-tail winding around himself then down the entire length of the cave to aging daylight outside. In the shadow of the cave, the only sign of his eyes was the glint of the new flames through his bangs.

Shivering so hard her bones and muscles ached, Shay curled in on herself.

"Draw closer to the fire," said the low baritone. "It will warm you."

"No shit, Sherlock," Shay muttered under her breath.

When she still didn't move there came a hush of scales on stone and the long serpentine tail wrapped around her middle, folded snake-skin and all, and lifted her as though she were a branch. He didn't set her down at the fire, though, but brought her to him, where he examined her closely through narrowed eyes. With a small frown that could have been confusion, he brushed off the gravel that had stuck along for the ride from her thigh.

"So this is a female's softness." His eyes landed on the shedded skin and the frown turned to an equally small, yet self-satisfied smile. "I'm glad you like my skin. Hand it to me, and I will make you clothes."

Shay thrust it from her like poison. "N-No, no, keep it."

"It is yours. My wife's."

"I'm not! No!"

"Yes," the tail flexed, lowering Shay down into the coils and closer to the fire. "It is clear no other man has touched you. You are unmarked, unclaimed."

"But...no--no! I don't want this, I never wanted to." Her voice cracked.

"Nevertheless, it is yours. But if you do not wish it now..." He put it to the side. The growing yellow light of the fire rippled along the length of his brilliant red hair, making her stare. Never before had she seen such beautiful hair, let alone encapsulating the kind of torso she'd only seen in movies.

His tail released her into his arms. Just like his tail, they gave no warmth, but neither were they cold. Shuddering at the feel of him about her waist, she aimed her feet and hands towards the fire, yearning for the pain of the chill to leave, swallowing hard against the hysteria pushing against her collarbone.

"I am Curtis," he said, low and soft at her shoulder. "What is your name?"

She said nothing, pressing as much of herself as she could against her lap. She hurt all over from shaking and fear. Her stomach hurt the most from both hunger and tension. Any moment now, it would begin, the nightmare that Parker had said occurs to females in the grasp of ferals.

This wasn't what it was supposed to be like. She pressed her knees to her eyes. This can't be real. It shouldn't. I don't want it to be.

Images of her mother crossed her mind, munching on sticks of red licorice with a foot up by the steering wheel, lines of sagebrush passing by the car window. Her mother had always loved the heat and sun, while Shay loathed it. But she would give anything now to be back in that unconditioned old Jeep, munching sun-softened licorice with her mom.

Cool fingers ran up her arm, her shoulder, and across the back of her neck.

"I watched you in the village. You seemed so energetic then. But now you are still as snow." He tugged on her shoulders, surprisingly gentle. When she didn't unfold, he slipped his arms under her knees to hold her in his arms like a child. The surprise unwound her enough to separate her chest and legs, and she thought she could see a trace of a smile at the corner of his lips.

No, go back, go back, the moment you open up---Maybe if she pretended hard enough, she'd be able to feel that dry summer sun and hear her mother singing along to old George Michael tunes. Maybe she could stay there when this snake man began.

But even as she sat against his chest, shivering, time passed. He simply held her, slowly examining her down to her toes. The fire grew. The feeling returned to her hands and feet. Her shivering slowly subsided. When his arm moved again it wasn't to lay her out on the ground, but to reach over a curl of his tail for a log, which he threw on the fire.

"If you wish me not to hold you," he said after some time. "You only need to say so. There is no need to fear me, I will not hurt you."

Shay stiffened.

"Liar."

In answer, he untwined his arms and set her on a curve of his tail once more.

"I have no reason to lie."

Shay moved to ease off the tail of the snake, but remembering the butt full of gravel waiting for her on the floor, stayed put. Though she twisted round to peer into his face, letting go of her dream of summer Jeep rides to consider the look in his eyes. They were peculiar eyes, with an iris larger than human, though the white was still visible, and a slitted pupil. Their red color was a darker shade than his hair and scales, mimicking dried blood.

They were difficult to read. But they didn't seem to hold any malice, and they did not leer, nor did they stare like the other men she had met so far.

But, then, it could just be because she still had fake freckles on her face. Gall, these people had the weirdest hangups on beauty.

"Why are you being so nice?" she asked.

"You are mine, it is only natural."

Shay groaned. What is with the guys of this world? Kidnapping does not equal ownership, not like you could own someone anyways. But that made her think. "So--s-so I'm pretty much your slave now, right?"

She flinched as he hissed, then again when his fingers found her arms and to face his bared teeth.

"No female of mine shall ever be such. You are my wife, my partner..." he bowed forward, curtains of red hair sweeping past his shoulders. "Even if you have yet to accept it. Now...females need to eat every day, don't they? Stay close to the fire. I shall hunt. But before that..." He lifted her face and brushed aside some of the dirt there. "A name?"

Shay pinched her elbows in, but sighed through her nose. "Shay."

He smiled, brushing away more of the dirt. "Shay. A name which pleases the tongue."

With a gentility like unto Parker's, he set her down on the floor. Perhaps the males of this world believed all females to be made of glass.

With one last lingering look, Curtis slipped out of the cave and into the dying daylight.

In the solitude filled with the warm popping of fire, Shay had the peace needed to bring her thoughts back together. But even together, the conclusion stayed grim.

One thing was for certain, though: this wasn't some fun anime or game anymore.

Shay pulled her legs in closer, trying to get as much of herself as possible on the hide of her little skirt.

"So much for all that study into how to have a good marriage..." she mumbled. "Or becoming a writer. Or a doctor. Or an artist. Or traveling the world to see how fresh mangos off a tree taste like." She buried her face in her arms.

Now all that was left was cave-man snake wench.

"Neara, I hope you're okay."