The key reason I've not released the rest of this story from this point is because it began as erotic horror, and I've since moved on from the genre, and the rest of the story is nonhuman more than anything else. If you want more, just say so, and I'll publish the rest.
Regards,
Gethelred
*****
"Stop."
Jezebel froze. She shook her head; why did I stop? She moved to bite Michelle again.
"No, Jezebel. Stop. Oh, and freeze, too."
Jezebel felt her muscles seize; her coils undulated, muscles running, under her scales. They ran along Michelle's skin; she sighed.
"Sorry, my dear," Michelle drawled, running her fingertips along the coils, still wrapped around her waist. "Hate to ruin your fun."
The snakewoman fought her muscles, and spat at Michelle."A-Ann-Anyo-one cann-an ddo th-tha-at!"
Michelle nodded, waving her hand nonchalantly . "Let me go. Yes, a relatively simple compulsion. Not difficult to do to humans; harder to do against the supernatural, but still doable. But it's what you don't know that can hurt you, here."
She stepped out of the unravelling coils, and watched them undulating, as Jezebel fought her for control, hissing and spitting. Her face was elongated forwards, and her eyes broke into vertical slits, opening and darting everywhere. Her teeth grew in length, bringing themselves as close as they could to Michelle. Michelle watched as the scales broke the skin of the lamia's arm; they caught the light, iridescent.
"Yes, there's a whole host of things we can do to humans, aren't there? We can absorb their energy, their desire; we can drain their life forces. We can move faster, we are physically stronger. We think much faster. But,"Michelle stopped, putting up her hand.
"But, when it comes to others like us, we are as humans are; at the mercy of each individual's personal strengths. For example, you know you are no match for Mark, or Cassie. Gabrielle, however, is just a spirit awakened; she has none of the powers a Grigori might, and would be thus easier prey. However, a spirit awakened is not dissimilar to a succubus, in that her mind carries the weight of every life she has lived; a possessing spirit has similar strength, as it has lived that long."
She looked levelly at the snake; one could hardly call it a woman, in the state it was in.
"So, you may ask, what makes me different? Why am I so unique? You thought you could overpower me easily, no? And why, if I could do this from the beginning, did I let you do as you would? Well," she stretched, and gave the lamia a catlike smile.
"I wanted some fun; I haven't really relaxed for a while. And I'm a bit put out, with you and your group. You know our history, with your friends. Speak, if you would. If you can."
The snake hissed, spouting incoherence, the mouth frothing, the fangs getting in the way.
"This won't do at all," Michelle murmured.
The transformation, from the lamia form to the man sized snake had taken five minutes; the scales spreading from the centre of her, up through her tail. Her face was, by now, fully elongated, her mouth widened, and her head flat, a diamond.
The change back took less than a second.
Jezebel almost fell over, just getting her feet underneath her. Her glorious eyes looked upwards at Michelle, furious.
"How did that just happen? Not even... no-one can do that, suspend the change! No-one!"
Michelle nodded. "It shouldn't be possible; too many variables. I'm not sure you even fully understand the procedure yourself. Unless..."
Her eyes flashed; not the deep, blood red of Marks, nor the deep blue of Gabrielles, but a pure, shining white. "Unless I have tapped into that which binds you here, binds us all here. Unless I have access to your soul."
Jezebel's eyes widened. "How... how is it possible? I know the Gatekeeper. I have been to her hall. She told me that no-one can hold a soul to ransom, not even Lucifer or the Almighty."
Michelle's smile widened, almost to unnatural proportions; she looked feral, predatory.
"Exactly. They are spirits; they have souls. I can hold, within my hands, their connection to existence. I can bend them to my will. I can shift them, bind them; hold them into any shape. I can remake anything in existence. There is nothing I cannot touch. So, then; how much is your existence worth to you?"
Gabrielle drew her breath in tight; this was the moment. This would make or break the session; if she called Michelle on her bluff, Michelle would have two choices, and neither of them resulted in them getting any information from the snake.
Mark looked on, amused.
The snakewoman slumped. "What do you want?"
Michelle shook her head. "No, that's not how this works at all. First, I'm going to get some satisfaction. Come on, lamia," she said, the word a curse, but a soft one. "Show me pleasure such as I have never known."
The lamia changed back, towards the snake slowly; her coils travelled up her skin as her legs drew together. But this time, they did not join together; they kept their distinctly human shape, but were covered in smooth mottled green. She was panting, mewing with need; her eyes shot fire, but muted, the cold lust of a serpent.
Her tail still protruded from her lower back; it wrapped around Michelle's waist, as the lamia pressed her breasts against Michelle's; her hands cupped Michelle's face gently, as she kissed her softly.
Michelle moaned into her mouth; it had been too long. Mark would not lie with her; he was mainly with Cassie, because with her he need not worry about damaging her. She healed, if his passion was too much to withhold; his powers were simply too great for anyone other than something naturally supernatural.
Michelle deepened the kiss; the snakewoman's hands trailed over her body, before it dipped lower; her fingertips traced Michelle's groin, pressing harder than absolutely necessary.
Michelle smiled into the kiss; she pulled her harder, and slung the snakewoman down, around her; the snakewoman pulled her down on top, her tail flexing. The coils loosened, before running between her legs, the tip of her running between Michelle's thighs.
Michelle groaned as she eased her legs open, and the tail ran its length along her outside, parting her lips, its touch soft as gossamer.