User blog:Revontheus1746/The Husband Tales, Part One

Running. That's all I can make sense of right now. There's something I'm running from but I've long lost sight of it. Even so, I know it's still following me. What am I running from? Think! It was a woman to be sure, the ample bosom and enticing curves gave that away instantly. What made it strange was the snake-like lower body and abysmal coverage of her cleavage with what looked like scales. A dragon?! No, dragons have wings, don't th-

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The sound of pulverized wood flying past my head sends me running with reckless abandon again. My breathing is labored, my legs are clubs, and my lungs are on fire. Adrenaline coats my sweaty body like honey from some bee-girl's hive. At least, that's what the tingling sensation all over is telling me aside from run or die. I have to know how far away she is, so naturally I look back.

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She's about to tackle me. Oh no. Nonononono, anything but this. A flash of green and I'm on my back with a very worked-up snake lady squeezing me with her tail. Is this how I die? As the wrap gets tighter and tighter, I squirm, knowing what I must look like to such a powerful predator. A weak piece of meat, not even fit to consume, only to put out of its misery. "P-Plea-HURGH-se.." I manage as the wrap reaches a climax.. then lessens in intensity and I can breathe again. Wait, what?

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I couldn't breathe? Her tail slackened? I take in the relieving air and exhale hoarsely. My arms are on fire with pain and one feels like it's about to dislocate at the elbow. I wriggle a bit and the offending area is given a bit of room. I realize my own head has gone slack and I've been releasing my hot breath on the lamia, and she lifts my head up to see my face. I get a good look at her face in the meantime, and realize she's looking at me funny. Not in a, "I'm going to enjoy eating you," kind of way, more like, "I'm going to enjoy keeping you."

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:#434343;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">As I struggle, I hear her soft, pleasant voice for the first time. "Why are you squirming so much, hm?" This question catches me off guard. I meekly respond with, "I'm going to die here, and I'm still not even sure if I've done everything I wanted to yet," and saying this makes me realize how much I still have to do, and that doesn't help my feeling of regret at being caught. “and then added on top of that, I’m afraid of being eaten.. I don’t want to die here…”

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:#434343;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Oh my.. I hope I haven't hurt you. That would be dreadfully short-sighted of me." As I hear this, I look into her eyes. The orange hue first has me squirming, but I can't seem to look away. The response is naturally a tightening sensation and her holding my head still to try and dissuade me from doing such things. "Sh-sh-sh, it's alright." she says, her large hands surprisingly smooth to the touch. After a few moments, my feeble attempt at freedom is ended, my inability to avert my eyes causing me to stop. "There.." she croons, "..I didn't mean to scare you. I just.. couldn't stand the idea of you getting away."

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:#434343;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The fear is back. With it, my adrenaline. What begins as squirming turns into spasms of desperate combat with far stronger muscles. The lamia seems endeared by my attempts to escape and leans forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. "You're so cute when you can't run." The last thing I remember before being dragged off to a cave in the deepest part of the forest is the sight of the forest's entrance, and a sign that was turned the wrong way and hidden in the bushes: <span style="color:rgb(67,67,67);font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;">'BEWARE: WURM SIGHTINGS ABOUND. GUARD YOURSELF WELL.'

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:#434343;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Do you have to be so melodramatic?” I hear Seton quip, and some of the other guys step in on my account. “Well, I don’t hear you being the dominant one in your relationship.” He just smirks, coming back with, “That’s because my wife controls the weather.” Hardly an argument, but he had a point. “Well, I guess it’s easy to say I’m melodramatic since you know how it feels to be like that.” I heard him audibly swallow, and he passed me some money. “Take it and shut up…”