Scales & Silk @theartofsuicide
Chapter 6

Morning came. He was awake the moment she shifted against him. Half asleep, she was so soft and sweet in his grasp. Betelgeuse watched her squirm and shift, her nightgown rucking up creamy thighs to show off her cute cunt. He knew what she tasted like, had licked her slick up the night before and loved it…

Why not give his darling wife a treat?

He slid down her soft belly to her, cunt, lips brushing over her hot, swollen lips. He had ruined the poor girl, stretched her little holes wider than he had any right to. Betelgeuse kissed up her thighs and up to her cunt, long tongue running up the length of her sweet slit. He worked slow to get her opened around the slimy digit, the aphrodisiac in his spit leaking into her skin. The snake paused each time she moved and mewled, looking up at her to see if she was awake or not.


The worst kind of nightmares plagued Lydia as soon as her eyes closed for good. She dreamt of her previous life. No, not the one she shared with her father and Delia and Mr. and Mrs. Maitland. That life she still considered current‒ hers despite her precarious situation. The life she dreamt of was the one she shared with her Mother.

It was bleak, and dark, and painful, much of it blacked out from her waking memory due to just how young she was‒ but not nearly enough. When Lydia corrected others that Delia was not her mother, few lived who knew it to be a compliment. Mother wasn't particularly mean, not that Lydia could remember. She didn't hit her, and it was Lydia who got to keep the only bedroom in their tiny apartment while Mommy slept on the couch. There even existed hazy memories of the beautiful raven-haired woman singing husky Russian lullabies to her, lovingly, like a proper Mother.

But she was weak and flawed and sold both her daughter and herself to her vices. So many men took her in so many ways. Only now with the bearings and knowledge of a budding adult did she know why‒ so Mother could get her fix. She was too young to even know for sure if the images that sometimes filled her head when she slept were memories or horrific inventions bred of a twisted mind.

Pain. Awful, stabbing, wet, bloody pain. Pain that left her so scarred and damaged on the inside that she would never have children. In the waking realm, the phantom of it kept her poor sweating little body wracked with anguish, tossing and turning over his scales. That was the peak of her fit, tragic little cries filling the crypt. But then, like a calming storm, she eased, falling prone to the vaguely familiar shake of a rattle and hiss of a snake.

Suddenly, she wasn't being assaulted anymore. There wasn't any pain or hurt, just sweet quiet darkness. A beast had taken her, but it meant no harm, only niceness and affection. She didn't need to hear it speak to know, she just knew. She was safe and loved.

The raw flesh between her legs was still wet, but now in the darkness, something soft and cold and equally slimy was surging against it, joining its slick eagerly in a way she found she didn't mind at all. When Lydia came to fully, she already knew exactly where she was, who she was with, and what was happening. No need for hypnosis this time.

"Unngh!" The sound crawled harsh and luxurious up her dry throat as her eyes snapped open, honeyed orbs immediately falling on her husband.

"Betelgeuse," she huffed without thinking, neck snapping back a moment later when he lashed her clit with his forked tongue in warning. "I'm sorry!"


He growled softly when she spoke his name, a sharp lash of his tongue meeting her sensitive cunt. His lips wrapped around her clit and he sucked lightly at the bud, his coils shifting so she was cozy in his grasp. Betelgeuse's tongue pressed deep inside her, soothing her aches and little pains with the softness of the muscle. The forked tip pushed at her sweet spot, then slid out of her slit as he looked up at her.

"I'm the one that'ssssssorry," he murmured against her hip bone, then pressed himself between her legs again. She tasted so delicious, squirming perfectly against him… There was a moment in the poltergeist's mind where he realized she was addicting, his favorite type of drug. Betelgeuse kissed her clit lightly, making sure his fangs stayed far from her delicate skin. Such a lovely treat, he was so lucky.

The snake was intent on bringing her the most pleasure he could, on spoiling his little wife and treating her like the princess she was to him. Every squirm and mewling cry she let out made him sigh against her cunt and press deeper into her. He was eager to treat her good, to make her happy. When she came against his mouth the first time, Betelgeuse groaned into her. The taste had his eyes closing tightly, mouth curling in a wicked grin.

"Yer a fuckin' treat, Lydsss," he sighed against her thigh. As she calmed down from her first orgasm, he watched her with an adoring look in his eyes, pupils almost turning to hearts. "Love that look on your face… Pretty lil' thing."

He pressed a kiss to her thigh again, nipping the skin lightly.


Flustered and quaking from a rush of pleasure she wasn't expecting, wasn't ready for, Lydia sang for him, voice raspy and freshly woken. He gave her a break then, not pushing for more though it was clear in the way he doted lovingly over her, licking his lips, that he was eager for seconds. Everything felt so hot but his scales were soothingly cool, and she felt safe enough slumping back against them once her muscles stopped pulsing.

"You're not…" she panted, struggling to catch her breath, lashes fluttering, "... mad at me…?"

All things considered, that was probably a silly question but seemed necessary to the half-awake girl. Last Lydia remembered, he was yelling at her and calling her a nag and promising never to do anything nice for her ever again. Now he was buried between her thighs, calling her pretty and making her blush like a virgin.

Restless as her sleep was, Lydia didn't feel so useless and rubbery today. She could actually sit up, her half-brushed, air-dried mop of black hair flurrying around her head and making that flush glow brighter. She was a mess.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Milky thighs squirmed together, still wet with saliva and her own cum, nimble fingers pulling the lace edge of her nightie down until she was covered just so. Her breath was quick, pulse still humming from post-orgasmic bliss. Even as she came down, she ached for more. Sadly, she didn't have the words to say so or experience to recognize exactly what it was she wanted. The sore, ravaged state of her privates didn't aid in her hesitation.

"It was rude. I'll try to be better at… at communicating with you."


"Not mad atcha, baby girl… It'sss all okay," he cooed, sucking lightly on her clit with a smile. "Sssweet girl… ssshoulda been nicer t'you. M'sssorry, Lydsss." He kissed over her thighs then up to her belly, making a soft hickey right on the soft spot above her womb. He rubbed his cheek gently against the small discoloration once it was established, a soft shake of his rattle sounding.

His coils slipped and slid, exposing the two slimy cocks beside her head. Stray hairs tickled the sensitive tips, making them jump and bump lightly against her cheek. He chuckled at her unhappy pout, kissing her cunt and slipping his tongue inside her once again. Betelgeuse's eyes stayed on his wife as she mouthed gently at his cocks, happily licking into her and lashing inside her cunt.

"Forgive ya for the sssnap, I promissse. Love my little wifey, love thisss pusssy too," he purred. His coils tightened around her body and pushed her closer to where he wanted her- even giving a soft massage with the way his muscles tensed.


Oh, this was heavenly. Her anxiety melted away with each masterful lick and suckle, trepidation fleeing while she melted over him, legs slipping wide open of her own volition to grant him better access. When the instruments he used to ravage her before made an appearance, she didn't even flinch or tense up. It only made sense to return his affections, to try and make him feel good too.

Without hesitation, she took hold of each one near the base of the pocket of scales they'd slipped out of, daringly slipping her little finger inside the pocket for a brief moment to test his reaction. Then, she was opening her cherry lips to be penetrated, slicking her other hand up and down the one she couldn't fit, pulling it close to rest between her small, soft breasts while she suckled dutifully.

He tasted good. Unnaturally so. Sweet and tangy, enough to make Lydia hum pleasantly while she went to work on him without a first or second thought of whether or not she should have been doing this at all.


She was so sweet to him, all gentle touches and tiny kisses. He adored it, adored her. The snake continued licking her up like a melting ice cream cone, enjoying the tenderness of the moment as he brought her pleasure. The exploratory finger in the soft cloaca that held his dicks was a welcome surprise, making his jerk and grunt.

Her gentle sucking was something new, usually his partners dove in eagerly and with gusto, but Lydia was such a delicate little thing. It was rather cute, if he was being honest. Betelgeuse hummed against her as she mouthed at him, curling his tongue up and pressing into her sweet spot.


His cocks were shaped differently than a human man's. The tip was pointed rather than blunt and flared, allowing her to accept them more easily and deeply in her tiny mouth, plump lips stretched wide to accommodate his girth. Still, even with all her sweet dedication and hard work, his silent prediction was correct in that she couldn't even swallow down half of one of them.

Frustrated with her inability, she switched it out with the one she'd been jerking and squeezing between her tits, its twin adding slick from her saliva to make an even easier glide in the valley if her soft chest. Her second orgasm was intense, and only spurred Lydia to suck him harder, let the speared tip of his alien cock breach the slim opening at the back of her throat while she choked her pleasure around him.


The effort Lydia showed in her work on him was something to be admired, even if she wasn't able to take as much as he really wanted her to. Still, having her choke on one of his cocks… It had his heart thumping wildly and his pleasure skyrocketing. It was unfair how hot the little human was, but he appreciated it to no end.

Betelgeuse's lips curled into a grin as he tasted a drop of his own cum in her cunt when he pushed deep enough, testing the limits of her womb and grazing the forked tip of his tongue against the girl's cervix just for fun. His fangs glided over her, not drawing any blood, but just give her a jolt of pain so he could feel her squirm wildly against him. He loved when she thrashed and mewled and cried out, it made him crazy.

He was embarrassingly quick to cum, filling the human girl's throat and covering her pale tits with it as well. He groaned into her, eyes rolling back into his head.


The rush of cold, sweet cum down her throat was more than she could take. She choked and let him go, falling into a wet coughing fit as the twin cocks continued to twitch and pulse and squirt the remains of his release all over her pretty clean body and nightgown. Another bath was in order, but Lydia feared he wasn't ready to release her quite yet.

"Stop‒" she gasped in between coughs, trying her best to squirm her hips out of his gently squeezing coils and away from his overly passionate, monstrous kisses. She believed him when he looked at her so soft and sweet and apologized, told her she was "pretty." He didn't want to hurt her. He was trying to help. Fucking was just the only love language he seemed to speak. He would listen, if he could get past all that raw hunger.

"Please…?" She was a filthy panting mess with her slip soaked in cum and half torn, the rest of her barely better off‒ a toy that had been thoroughly enjoyed by its owner. "Can't do anymore… Can't take anymore… Need a break…"


Betelgeuse let out a rumbling purr of satisfaction, licking once more before he let Lydia go. His tongue crept back into his mouth and he gently tugged her nightgown off. Using the parts that weren't soaked in cum, he wiped her face and chest off before he shook his rattle once and a similar nightgown settled over her pale form. She was so darling to him… such a perfect little wife.

As she calmed down and he maneuvered the tiny girl the way he wanted so she was curled up safely in his coils. Betelgeuse's rattle began again in a slow, soothing rhythm meant to calm her even more. He rubbed his face against her tummy, placing a kiss onto the soft mound above her pussy.

"You did ssso good. My good girl. Darling lil' Lydia," he sighed against her tummy, looking up at the black haired girl with a lovestruck expression. Oh, how he adored her. Betelgeuse kissed his way up her body to her lips, pressing sweet kisses over Lydia's lips and face.


He cleaned and dressed her again in a matter of moments without Lydia having to do much of anything at all but just lay there, hummingbird heart beating against her chest. She felt like mush, like a pile of goo while he loved on her with kisses and scaly snuggles. She wasn't tired, though, having slept long and deep in his coils despite her fitful night terrors. No, not tired. Just weak.

It took effort to lace her arms around the neck of the beast, to let her baby soft lips meld plush and so wrong against his thin, coarse lips hiding a mouthful of razor sharp daggers. It was a monstrous mouth. He did love her. At least, this part of him did. But weren't they one in the same? Lydia wasn't sure and wasn't too keen on him transforming back so she could find out.

She was loose like this, glowing from all their lovemaking‒ if it could be called such a thing‒ mind light and body heavy with the peace she found here. They continued to lock tongues, her little pink human one unable to do much more than wriggle and lick at his while it nested in her mouth and pushed back and down her throat. She didn't even gag, feeling much too loved and relaxed to worry and tense the wrong muscles.


Betelgeuse sighed into the girl's mouth, smiling against her lips with each kiss. He loved this, loved the simple intimacy of it all. She was so delicate and so sweet against him, always such a treat to be against. He wanted badly to turn into a man again, hold her tiny body in his arms, and kiss all over her. This snake shit was getting old, but if it meant that she was comfortable being around him, then so fucking be it. He could stand it for a while more, to make her happy. The tear tracks left on her face were glaring at him, and he rubbed his tail lightly against her cheek.

He pulled his mouth away and pressed his cheek to her head, a happy rattling noise sounding. Had he been a large cat he would have been purring for her, content and peaceful.

"Let ya go home when yer all better, Lyds. Getcha cool n' calm n' take ya back," he promised with a long yawn.

The giant snake shifted, coils moving and squeezing to hold her in a snug bundle within his grasp. That was when he conjured the weed, rolled in a fat joint. Without hands to hold it, he manipulated Lydia up to his eye level, her little hands braced against his body. He lit up, then nodded for her to hold the joint in her fingers as he breathed out a long sigh of smoke.

"S'good Netherworld weed… It'll getcha higher 'n a kite in no time," he said, a wide smile on his face.


Despite how smoothly he handled himself, it was not beyond her notice that he was going out of his way to perform humanoid tasks in a serpentine form in order to attend to her. It made her chest pang with guilt that obliterated any hesitation she might have had in taking the offered drugs. Nevermind that she had never consumed anything similar in her life, save the two drinks he bought her at the beach.

It made sense that he wanted to keep her there until the marks of his affection healed. Better to let her family think she was held hostage and unharmed for several days than any of the alternatives.

She put the cardboard tip in her mouth and sucked‒ too hard. A harsh coughing fit followed, paired with tearing and a heaviness in her chest and lungs. He held her through it tenderly until she was stable enough to try again more slowly.

"Woah…" She mumbled on the second exhale, blinking once the strange THC of the dead finally started showing its effects. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she was too entranced scrutinizing the predatory gaze of her husband to let them close. They were so beautiful, like two baseball sized gemstones with perfect obsidian slits staring down at her. He was divine like this…

But… she was being selfish. It wasn't right to let him go on coddling her at the expense of his own comfort. This was a beast meant for carnage, both of the physical and sexual nature. For her to continue using him like her own personal stuffed animal for something so mundane as cuddling was downright disrespectful.

It occurred to her that she had been staring at him for a long time, absently stroking his scales in admiration while thinking many unvoiced thoughts.

"You don't have to…" Rather than trying to put a word to it and ending up sounding silly, she gestured vaguely at all of him, dazed honey eyes making a sluggish trail over as much of him as she could sight from her vantage.

"I mean, I like it. I do. A lot." A nervous giggle burst abruptly up her throat‒ too loud, too flirty, like a groupie finally getting two minutes with the rockstar she worshipped‒ and she flushed, swallowing it down. As if to punish herself for being so silly, she went on to quote him in self-derision and said, "I guess I really am a snake fucker."

As soon as she said it, she regretted it and immediately began mentally beating herself even harder. He only called her that in a moment of rage, and for her to repeat it now cheapened what they had done‒ something she saw as a beautiful experience regardless of his feelings on the matter.

"I'm just trying to say," she began again after taking a third frustrated hit of the joint she'd been holding up to his mouth seeing as he had no arms. "You don't have to do this for me. You can be yourself. I won't break."

She probably wouldn't break, but they would never know if he always deferred to this obscure weakness of hers.


He laughed when she went too hard too fast, shushing her until she calmed. That was Lydia, jumping in head first and not looking back. He took the weed back, breathed in deep, and blew a cloud out through his nostrils.

While she watched him, he watched her.

The soft pale form under her nightgown, little tits moving with each breath she took. Those delicate hands and wrists‒ easily broken if he felt like it. And those eyes… Betelgeuse, the immortal sap, could get lost in them. The color reminded him of whiskey and honey, long lashes like spider legs. Maybe millipede legs, since there were so many.

Lydia's giggles sounded so foreign and feminine to his ears. The weed was hitting, making his head feel cotton stuffed and making things sound like he'd just been to a too loud concert. She admitted her affliction, the strange and unusual taste for reptiles. It was endearing, even if the name reminded him of their nasty fight.

"Sssnakesss're pretty great," he chuckled. Betelgeuse blew a thick cloud into her face. Slowly his body melted from scales to flesh, his upper body once again becoming human. He stayed serpentine below his hips and kept Lydia in the mass of coils, while his hands rested lightly on her tiny ankle and stole the joint back.

Betelgeuse sighed smokily and stuck his tongue out at her, showing off the fork still in it. His fingers massaged up her calf slowly, watching her reactions to see if she was okay with being like this with him.

"Ya may be a snake fucker, Lyds… But yer my snake fucker," he purred with a wide grin.


With wide eyes, still quite unused to sights like this despite her set of ghostly parents and their antics, Lydia watched his half-transformation, a smile cracking when he flicked a still-forked tongue in her direction. A long rope of scales remained firmly circled around her hips, waist, and thighs, allowing her torso and arms to move about freely but still very much keeping the girl close for petting and snuggles.

Like now. His hand was big enough to circle her dainty ankle completely. Lydia burned up at the touch, warring emotions telling her to run and also stay still, trust, give him a chance. She deferred to the latter, goosebumps rising up where his humanoid flesh trailed‒ the only physical sign that she was discomforted by this in any way.

It wasn't so bad. The way his beautiful scales melted into ugly, discolored flesh fascinated her, leading her to gingerly trail the tips of her fingers along where the contrasting surfaces met. The fat flesh on his belly was softer than the scales or the skin on his hands, and Lydia burned even hotter to learn that firsthand.

It looked as though they were about to be spending the next several days together. At least until Lydia no longer appeared as though she had been beaten and gangraped. Maybe they should take this time to get to know one another. But first...

"Uhm, B?"

He had been watching her the entire time she explored him, and she was embarrassed to realize that's what she'd been doing, lazily and mindlessly letting her tiny palm wander wherever it wanted to go while he was good and kept his hand on her leg. She was touching his chest now, little fingers tangled in a thatch of moldy green-blond chest hair.

"I'm hungry."

Unwise words for prey to utter to a predator.


Betelgeuse smiled as he watched her, let her explore him. Big daddy Chuck must have made her real scared of men, from how hesitant she was touching him. It only made sense to Betelgeuse to blame Chuck. Whether her father played a direct hand in her abuse was irrelevant. He was the man who owned Lydia before Betelgeuse claimed her, and any harm she incurred under their watch was their responsibility.

Even a soft hold on her ankle had the mortal girl's face twisting up, and he almost let go of the pale joint. But she needed to face her fears, face the fact that he was a man, and he wasn't going to harm her.

As he rubbed and massaged her calf, Betelgeuse blew out a long cloud of smoke. Lydia's fingers pressing into the swell of his gut had him smirking. She was bold in her THC high, good and groping in a way that would make his dick make an appearance if he hadn't already settled down. Tiny thumbs met his chest and he rumbled a purr at the slight brush against his nipples before she buried her hands in his chest hair.

"Yeah, thisss ssshit makesss ya get major munchiesss," he laughed. Well, more like he hacked‒ the laughter sounded as he huffed in another hit, the joint almost gone. He pressed it to Lydia's lips to let her puff away the last of it, and waved his free arm lazily. Another banquet of sweet treats, rich foods, and beetles appeared; this time they floated by slowly in order to let both the poltergeist and his bride to pick and choose what they wanted.

Each pick of Lydia's was under Betelgeuse's careful scrutiny, her delicate sensibilities showing in the light treats she picked. He pointed out his choices to her, picking up treats in his long claws and holding them up to her mouth for her to chew.

"Get that belly full, babesss. Wantcha t'be nice n' full,'' he purred as he held a little strawberry cake to her mouth, the icing smearing against her bottom lip.


"Stoned" was a foreign state of being for Lydia. She was highly agreeable, pleasantly mellow without being drowsy. Her mouth opened obediently for every treat he presented, and after a while, she was leaning against his fleshy torso just as easily as she embraced his scales.

The next several days were spent much like this. He didn't touch her intimately anymore past that good morning wake up call. Most of his time with her was spent wearing scales, but he did fall back into his human suit every once in a while whenever he needed to run around the hovel and do things.

Lydia trained herself to just not think about what was happening in the living realm. It was hard, but Betelgeuse kept her entertained. They cuddled and watched movies and ate entirely too much junk food. Definitely the most lowkey, unexciting honeymoon in history‒ excepting, of course, that it was the cursed honeymoon of a union between life and death and was taking place in the land of the dead, and let's not count out the giant serpent.

Bruises faded. The scratches on her back healed to nothing, as if she'd never been cut. Three little scars would be left behind on her shoulder from her where he bit too deeply, serving as a permanent reminder to the ghoul of her fragility and his vital responsibility in maintaining her.

"You can't keep me here forever."

They both knew she was healed and ready to go home. This was all just a show to keep her here longer. She spoke this to him bravely while he was wearing his human skin again, bustling in the kitchen to start a kettle heating up for tea she didn't ask for.

"I like you, and I like spending time with you, but I'm not stupid, Beej."


There was a certain bliss that came with having Lydia staying in his crypt, playing along with the happy honeymoon feeling that they had created in their short time together. Betelgeuse could even say that he was happy, for the first time in a long time. It was strange and unusual, but entirely welcome.

He found pleasure and joy in providing for her, feeding her treats and smoking her up until she giggled and cuddled up to him without fear. When his marks on her began to fade- save for the bite mark that bound them‒ he felt an edge of need. A need to repossess her, to go into another fury of lust and cover that lily colored skin in purple and blue. But it faded when he was reminded of how beautiful she looked when untouched. A little doll‒ his doll.

Her bravery when she spoke up caught Betelgeuse by surprise, a slight flinch showing and betraying his cool façade. He couldn't be mad at her for being assertive‒ that was her nature. Stubborn and level headed‒ that was his Lydia. His Lydia. The poltergeist felt a surge of joy when he was reminded by himself that she was his. For now and forever, whether she was physically present in his crypt or not.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you ain't," he sighed. The kettle was off the heat and he turned around to look at her. Betelgeuse leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He wanted to pout, to yell, to throw a tantrum and make her stay. However, Lydia was right. She always seemed to be.

With a sigh, Betelgeuse waved his hand and her school uniform was back on her body. The ugly plaid covered up her creamy thighs and the blazer hid the swell of her tits‒ he forgot how much he hated it. There was a frumpy element, and it reminded him of the shapeless dresses from the Dark Ages. He sighed as he walked to her side, holding out a hand for her to take.

"C'mon then, Lyds. Let's getcha home before both ya parental sets get their panties in a twist," he chuckled as he pulled her close against himself. It was a blink and they were back in the human world, just outside the Deetz house, and he was vibrating with power. It felt good to be freed, to have his feet on mortal soil, to be able to conjure anything he pleased. All thanks to the pale girl next to him, the one that could barely look at him when he stood before her as a man. Testing his powers again, Betelgeuse grabbed his wife's hand and popped them into her room with no effort, a rasping laugh sounding as he pumped his fists in the air.

"Babes! I have full powers thanks to ya. Could kiss ya," he laughed. She may have already known it but he wanted to remind her, to remind the world. Betelgeuse was back in full swing. "Say, think Daddy Chuck wants ta see me again? Should we get his blessin'!"

Betelgeuse wheezed another laugh, lounging on the girl's soft sheets. He didn't care too much that he was dirtying the purple and black blanket. He could tell she didn't particularly want him to stay, and sighed as he stood.

"Well, I'll leave ya be, Lyds. Got people to scare, shit to haunt. Call me if ya need me~"

The poltergeist kissed the top of her head, then her cheeks, before he disappeared, leaving her alone in her room.

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