Song of Scales and Secrets Ch. 1

This story is an adaptation of an RP with Game2345


Two souls, entwined in a dance
The tempo increases, one takes a chance
True soul hidden, soon she reveals
And sees how it is her sweetheart feels

Sian and Lila giggled, both their heads stuck in Sian’s soft shirt. He had shared a close kiss with her, sitting together on his girlfriend’s firm couch, and slowly she had pulled the hem of his shirt collar up.

They’d been together six months now, going on regular dates, having intimate conversations, and lots of kisses. It was only tonight—a special night, she’d said it would be—did they head towards such intimacy, with no expectation of Sian going home after the wine had flowed. As Lila pulled her boyfriend’s shirt off she pulled the collar right over her head instead. She giggled as if embarrassed, but Sian figured it was an intentional part of a seductive ploy, pulling them into close quarters. She breathed deeply, maybe taking in his scent; she certainly had her own sweet, electrifying scent.

Sian stared through Lila’s glasses into her blue eyes, hints of violet throughout like a nebula. He always could get lost in her eyes; it was part of what had attracted him to her in the first place. Her dark hair matted against the shirt, her tail of hair pushed down. She’d always had it long, so long it was hard to call a ponytail, it was more like snake-length with several bands clasping it at intervals. The violet highlights in her hair gleamed in the swirling, bubbling lava lamp light visible through the shirt.

Sian grinned and looked at the shirt around them. “Do you need some help?” He and Lila laughed. “Not that I mind being lost in here with you.”

Lila smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I rather like it in here.”

Sian’s skin prickled, yearning to feel Lila’s flesh, and he was ready for her to change. He felt along the hem of her dress but his grip slackened as she pressed closer and rubbed her hands down from his shoulders to his back. Sian softened under her massage, her scent wafting further around him and pulling him into her moment. It was almost hypnotic—maybe the spell of the wine was clenching on his mind, but everything was tantalizing. Never had she garnered such assertion with him. He enjoyed being in such close quarters with this sultry beauty, even more so as it was a transition to even better things.

“Oh!” Lila squeaked as her round red glasses fell onto the shirt, disheveled from her being so close. The two of them stared at the glasses. “Um.” Lila looked back to Sian and smiled. “We shouldn’t bother worrying about that, right?”

Sian giggled. “It’s fine, I got it.” He reached with a free hand and placed her glasses where they wouldn’t fall out the shirt. Lila grinned and resumed rubbing his back. Sian moaned, losing himself in the soft, seductive game.

“So.” He smiled and gazed into the beauty of her eyes unabated by the glasses, her vibrant hue more calling than he remembered. “Is it your turn to change?” He held her dress at the small of her back and gave a tug in hopes of exposing more skin.

“Perhaps.” Lila grinned. “But you might say I’ve already changed.”

Sian returned the grin. “Ah, I guess you do have a point, now your gorgeous eyes are on full display. But I think it’s only fair if I’m without . . .”

A soft but unexpected touch cradled Sian’s back muscles as Lila gave a breathy sigh. On one side rubbed Lila’s hand with her individual fingers, but on the other was a singular mass more like a tapered arm stump that twisted far more than possible, with a harder texture than her hand like bumpy leather. The mass felt supple and soothing, but Sian couldn’t get past a confused curiosity.

“Hang on, Lila, I feel something kind of strange.” He removed the shirt from his upper frame, lifting it off his girlfriend’s head. He turned back and stared, mouth half-open in the start of a gasp.

The dark scales of a serpent tail slithered from behind Lila’s sofa and rubbed Sian’s back. Where did that come from? Was it a pet? He had met her in the reptile section of the zoo, he supposed. Why wouldn’t he know about it, though? Had Lila hidden it? His boggling eyes stayed fixated on the snake but he craned his head to follow the widening tail. The violet scales were dark as the night sky and a pattern like wavy black clouds hiding a nebula drew his attention along it, the underside a sunset blue. As beautiful as the dark scales were Sian was more focused on why and what this was.

“Lila, do you have a pet snake I’m not . . .” His mouth dropped further as his vision skipped up the tail to Lila’s blue, bare-shouldered dress, tight and slender until her waist where it billowed out and darkened like the deep ocean. Where the knee-length dress cut off—there were no knees. The blue dress became the violet scales of the serpent. It slithered out from Lila’s dress to flow and flow and flow and weave about the dark living room lit only by the bubbling lava lamp.

Both Sian’s rational mind and his survival instinct muffled the part of his mind screaming the impossible truth: his girlfriend of a few months, whom he’d just been kissing, speaking with, and at that moment sat next to . . .

She was a half-snake woman.


Lila jumped forward and hugged her arms around her boyfriend’s firm torso and muscled arms. She looked up at him with a grin as he stared at the tail, and she sighed as she massaged her scales against his warm skin.

“Sweetie, when I said there would be something special tonight, there was something in particular I was thinking of.” She snaked her tail along his back to expose more scales. She didn’t squeeze around him yet; she yearned to squish her lonely tail around his firm body, but she knew the best way would be to ease him into it. Before she advanced she would make certain he knew it wasn’t a wild animal but his own loving, careful girlfriend, just as rational and reasoning as he was.

“When you said if I have any other special talents you should know about, the answer is a big yes.” She smiled and blushed and looked away. “I would have shown you sooner, but I was worried what you might think before you knew me so well.” She nodded to her tail. “The legs were a disguise. I actually have a long tail.” She squeezed her arms around him and slipped her tail to his belly. Her grin turned wobbly at the warmth of his abdomen. “A scaly tail I’ve wanted to hug and hold and rub you with for so long, and now we’ve been together and I feel safe enough to show you and it’s going to be wonderful and lovely and it’s just going to be fantastic, isn’t it?”

At first nervous, as she babbled she convinced herself that Sian had already accepted this sudden change. Her heart flipped as he stood out of her grasp. She looked up and saw him breathing heavily, staring as if he looked over the edge of a cliff. Her eyebrows raised, thoughts spinning over Sian’s movement; her face scrunched in the fear that things weren’t going as well as she’d hoped.

“You—You have a tail now . . .” he muttered.

“I—I, yes, I have a tail—” She glanced from Sian to her tail. She raised a midsection wide as Sian’s shoulders onto the couch. The end, just recently rubbing Sian, she slid over her hip-width scaly lap and lifted in a hand. “This is my tail–”

“What the hell did you put in that wine?” Sian’s thin scream wavered like a nail on glass. Lila sat up, shaking her head.

“No! I didn’t put—you brought the—I mean—” She held her head. She decided to not point out that he brought and poured the wine. She didn’t want to sound like accusing him of putting something in it. She smiled, but wobbly as she fidgeted, her breaths quickening as things collapsed around her.

“Sian, I’m sorry I never told you, but this is real. I really do have a long tail instead of legs. That was just a form I morph into because—well, it’s easier to get around.” Technically true, but she didn’t mention that was because most people would freak out—just like Sian now. She extended her tail’s end towards him, arms-length away to not startle him—anymore than she already had. “You can touch it. It’s real. My tail is real. Just reach out.” She reached a hand towards him. “It’s as real as my hand.”

Sian stared at her tail. He blinked a lot. His breaths came rapidly. Lila was afraid that he was afraid, that in this moment he would forget all their six months together—or worse, their time wouldn’t matter at all. Her heart twisted at the idea, thoughts running through her head as fast as she’d babbled when she believed everything would be okay.

I shouldn’t have done it like this. I should have just told him. A straight, simple explanation. Just words. Maybe he wouldn’t have believed. But he would have been prepared. I shouldn’t have tried to get around him with it. I shouldn’t have tried to butter him up first. But I thought he’d be willing, and after he experienced the tail he’d like it. I haven’t even been able to get him to experience it yet. I have to get him to feel it, I have to, I’ve got to.

Instead Sian took a shaky step away. Lila dropped her tail in dejection, though she kept her hand reaching towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I see that you—you have a tail, Lila.” His eyes jumped between staring at her tail and glancing about. “A very large, large . . . tail. Um.”

“Sian . . .” Lila’s face dropped. “Please, give me a chance. I’m still me, I’m still Lila, I’m not changed.”

Sian rubbed his head. He appeared to be trying to come to grips with this. A bubble of hope formed in Lila—and then burst.

“You’re not going to eat me, are you?” he asked.

Lila gasped and withdrew her outstretched hand to her mouth. She choked back tears, her heart wrenching.

“No! No, no, I’m not—we don’t—no, I’m not, that’s not a thing, I’m not going to . . .”

Memories flashed through her. The last time she’d gone camping with her folks. She’d climbed a tree and hung about with her still-growing tail when she spotted a cute human walking through the forest. She thought it would’ve been hilarious to lift them into the tree and surprise them. But the freak-out that followed—their concern that she would eat them. She nearly fell out of the tree, as frightened as she was of their fear. It was then she truly learned why lamias had to disguise themselves. They weren’t welcome. They were different, monsters, things to fear.

The only way to live in human society was to lie.

Lila covered her face and sobbed. “I’m sorry, Sian, I’m sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have done this, I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what to do. He didn’t trust her now. She couldn’t approach him: he might think she would attack. But if she didn’t approach him, she couldn’t convince him. She tried to remember any advice she’d been given for this contingency.

“I . . .” Sian looked at Lila, looked at the door, looked at himself, and he shook his head. “I don’t think I can run right now, Lila.”

Run? Lila looked up from her hands at Sian, who slowly, as if he might fall, and from his wine-induced swaying he just might have, sat on the living room floor, watching her as he did. Her tears still flowed, and they welled up again as she realized he had contemplated making a run for it.

It wouldn’t help to sob anew. She inhaled to pull her tears back.


Sian sat on the plush carpeting. Still tipsy, he figured if he ran he would trip and fall. He wondered what Lila would do then. Trap him? Kill him? Strangle him beneath those pounds of scaly muscles so nobody would know her secret? Her insistence that she didn’t intend to consume him did make him feel a touch better. It didn’t completely assuage his fears, but . . .

Yes, his whole body was tense in fear. Yes, his legs were itchy with an instinct to run. But as he stared at her his rational mind told him she was still human, still his girlfriend. And his emotional mind still found her voice honey to his ears, her scent like a fluffy blanket; love and desire remained. She remained everything he loved about her but now there was more—and more—and more of her. Yet even though she had morphed into some impossible hybrid of human and snake, through her quiet cries Sian knew he had to come to grips with the fact that—he still cared for her. Her plea tugged on his heartstrings.

It became clear to him that can’t run right now wasn’t the whole story. Shouldn’t run right now was true, too. Apparently so was wouldn’t run, but only right now. He hadn’t decided the future yet. The present hurt his head well enough.

As Lila gasped for composure she grabbed a tissue with her tail and wiped her face. Sian could see her eyes were puffy from crying.

“You’re . . . probably still drunk,” she said. “Which would be why you can’t—run.” She sighed. “I guess I should have given you time to process this, and not spring it on you.” She skimmed her hand over the couch for her glasses. “Uh. Do you want your shirt? Uh.” She put her glasses on and slid off the couch, the stiff cushions shifting like ships in choppy waves under her bulky tail. “You should probably stay the night since you’re drunk, but I promise I won’t touch you.” He heard in a quieter voice, “Unless you ask . . .” as if hoping he might change his mind.

He didn’t think he would tonight.

“You can get on the couch if that’s more comfortable.” She left the space between Sian and the couch open. “Maybe we can talk about all this.”

Sian felt his reaction was rational, how any human would take finding their girlfriend transformed into half massive snake. Still, he felt emotional bile well up as she treated him carefully and offered him solo use of the couch. Guilt. It told him to make an effort.

I’m not sure I can.

He watched her glide from him, her tail slithering like a fluid. He took the invitation to sit on the couch, perched on the edge of the rough cushion. He set his elbows on his knees and pressed his hands against his mouth. For a few moments he lost himself in his tumbling thoughts.

He peeked up to watch the snake woman slither through the living room. She turned off the lava lamp, the cabinet door below it ajar as usual. Sian gazed over the dark room, looking over the antique record player and retro records, dusty television set, and the bookcase of books, compact discs, her collection of seashells, artwork, photos . . . a photo of her and him grinning together displayed prominently in the center.

It was still Lila’s familiar living room. It hadn’t turned into the dank den of a snake in the dark.

Lila settled onto a seat of her own coil, thicker than the couch cushion and curled into a looping pile. She stared at her scales, which gleamed in the dim light as her tail and scaly hips flexed. She was graceful, even more graceful than usual despite her huge increase in bulk, flowing through the room and twisting her tail as effortlessly as a hand.

“So,” Sian said. Lila jolted her head up. “I guess I should ask . . . what are you?” He was curious but afraid. Lila was normally nice, tender, and careful, but he wondered if her physical change brought an emotional one as well. “I don’t mean that as an insult, I just, I wasn’t planning for my girl to become half giant anaconda when I got here. Again, I don’t mean that as an insult, Lila.”


Lila curled her lip down. Calling her half anaconda was like calling Sian a chimpanzee. She shrugged it off and smiled, happy that Sian was curious. She wanted to give him some slack since this was all new for him. She wanted to give him so much slack to make it work.

“I understand.” She nodded. “I’m a lamia. As you can see, identical to humans from the waist up.” She leaned forward. “Honest. We really are just like humans except—well, the lower body.”

Sian watched her tail, his voice wavering. “I see, yeah, that lower limb thing is sort of a big difference.” He stared at his shirt next to him and grabbed it for a moment. He sighed and pushed it away, turning back to Lila.

“Alright.” He kept his voice level, perhaps trying to muster his courage. “So you’re a lamia, as insane as that sounds for me to say, but—I guess I can understand you waiting all this time to show me.” He swallowed. “Now, what was your plan for me if you got this type of reaction?” He exhaled. “Obviously you were hoping I’d just see this as no big deal and we’d go about the night.”

“Yeah. I mean”—she looked away—“to be honest, I even hoped you’d be into the idea of me wrapping around you. I’ve heard of humans who are.” She turned back. “But I would’ve been fine with just no big deal, too. With this . . .”

She held a middle part of her scaly tail like a security blanket as wide as her human body, trying to remember what she had planned to do in this scenario. If she ever had made a plan.

Sian looked about to speak, but he seemed transfixed by her hugging the thick tail.

“I want to show you that it’s okay,” she said, “show you how wonderful this could be, but I don’t want to scare you.” She sighed and looked at her tail. “I guess I’ve already done that tonight.” She didn’t even want to consider if he completely rejected her over this, so she said nothing about what she would do in that situation. It would involve a lot of crying on her part, she knew. She would never forget him like he would have to her. She hoped more than anything he wouldn’t need to forget her.

Sian shuddered his head from his fixed gaze. “Um. How . . . could you use something so large and heavy on me without—” He shook his head. “Like, if you’re around my chest, would I even be able to breathe?”

Lila sat up. Wait. Is he—is he still—might he still be interested?

“Yes, completely,” she said. “I would never do anything to hurt you.” She lifted her palms. “I don’t mean to say you might think I’d do it on purpose. But my weight would be distributed. I wouldn’t squeeze that tight. It’s all about balance.” She propped her chin on her knuckles. “It’d just be like getting a hug.” She looked along her tail and smiled. “On top of a hug, on top of another hug, on top of another hug, on top of—” She snapped her head back to Sian and frowned. “Uh! Sorry.” She worried that might distress him more.

She decided to very deliberately not mention that suffocation was not the real danger of constrictor snakes but rather the blocking of blood flow—something she’d learned was entirely manageable; she could feel the bodily rhythms of someone she coiled and adjust accordingly.

Her knowledge of snake constriction might just worsen his unnerved fears, though.

After staring at her Sian stood up swaying. Lila shrank then leaned forward, hoping. Indeed, Sian reached towards her, slowly as a wary fawn in the woods, and placed his hand upon her tail.

Lila blushed at his warm gesture and skin. He was trying, he was really trying. Truly she had been too hasty in her attempts to get him to accept it. As his hand rested on her tail she believed they could work something out.

She flinched as Sian jerked his hand away. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . . You feel nice, this is just too damn weird . . .”

Lila blushed more. He said she felt nice. He pulled his hand away, but it was only a temporary reaction.

“Thank you. It’s fine, I understand, I guess it’s a lot to take in.” She smiled to him, the warmest, truest smile she had since he’d freaked out. Her voice quivered and warm tears of hope welled as she said, “Thank you for trying.”

Sian sighed and nodded with a shaky smile. “Yeah. Um. Is any of that wine left?”

Lila thought about the wine. She did have a way to relax his mind with a far more calming effect than alcohol. There was no way he would willingly go for it, though. But he was trying. Maybe he would give the hypnosis a try.

Or he would freak out even more at hearing of what he might equate with mind control. Maybe she could get him to look intently into her eyes—Look at my eyes, I’m still the same Lila—and she could soften him up with it. But that would be dishonest at such a dangerous moment, and if she lost focus and he thought she were trying to control him . . . that would end their relationship.

No. They needed to trust each other. Real trust. She would offer something to him—not hypnosis, but an unspecified talent. Really, her tail wasn’t a special talent any more than having an arm or a leg was. But perhaps he would be willing to see her real special talent, even if he wasn’t sure what it was. That would be a trusting enough way to start.


Chapter 2

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