The Adventures of Alera the Lamia

Guess who's back! It's been a busy semester or two, and I've had this story rattling around in my head for most of it. After my last final, I finally decided to sit down and let it all out. I suppose I had better warn you now: this story is about lamia, women with the lower bodies of snakes, and other, stranger and less-strange creatures. It will be plot-intensive; if you're here for pure porn, I suggest you hit up another author for the time being. The updates will NOT be regular; I write at my own pace, on my own time. If you're still interested, sit back and enjoy as I amuse myself by writing pretentious fantasy. D'ohohohoho~

As usual, critique is welcomed. Always looking to improve, and always room for it.

The Adventures of Alera the Lamia

by Iris Caldor

The Goddesses' children,

though lamia, scale and tail,

were born of no woman.

And their mother,

after infinite slumber,

shall be reborn.

Through glen and grove

her journey winds,

toppling ruler from her throne

and priestess from the altar.

Her sisters lie in wait

to shed her lifeblood.

Only one shall be free

from the Death Serpent's fangs.

Midday blaze her shining witness,

she casts Man to the stars

and destiny to her people.

-From the Book of Prophecy, Chapter 6, Verses 23-39

Alera's scale line itched, and she couldn't help but scratch at it with a sigh. It was too early for it to be itching; why couldn't it at least wait until after her midmorning bask? The hour before dawn was chilly and slowed her as she made her way to the wood-shaper's workshop. A young lamia of almost fifteen, she had not yet gone through her Heat, the molting that revealed a lamia's true scale line at her waist and marked her as ready to mate with a human. Instead, her burgundy scales, slightly faded as a mark of her encroaching shedding, began just almost a handspan beneath her already round and firm breasts. Like the adults, though, she wore the customary sash of spidersilk, draped across the broadening of her body where her hips attached to her tail, and bound her bothersome breasts tightly in more of the same. Both were maroon in color, to match her eyes.

Pulling her hands away from her scale line with great effort, she instead began running them through her lustrous rust colored hair, twirling it around her fingers in an obvious attempt to keep them occupied. Even worse than the itching was the feelings it seemed to evoke within her, alien and chemical emotions which spread through her and caused her nipples to harden to embarrassingly visible points - just as they had just now done. Her mother had told her that this was normal; that all young lamiae began to want sex at this age. It was in the hormones, and meant that when she'd gone through Heat, she would be ready and willing to mate with a human man, like all lamia did, to ensure the procreation of their race.

The wood-shaper's workshop was at the far