Venomous Aim

Chapter 1

by Duth Olec

Tags: #cw:noncon #coiling #dom:female #fantasy #lamia #spider #bondage #f/f #monsters #naga #pov:bottom #pov:top #snake #sub:female #sub:male

Mira has sought for years to meet a fabled spider lady monster said to have hypnotic venom. Her search has pointed to aristocratic lamia Veda Rios as knowing her location, and she's now visiting the jungle. Mira seeks an audience with her to find this spider...
This story has lead art by Erocoffee! You can see the art here.
There is no content warning for chapter 1.

Many strange, fascinating, dangerous creatures lived in the jungle. Wild animals found nowhere else in the world filled the foliage-dense depths of that land, but those extraordinary beasts seemed ordinary compared to what lurked deepest in its dark, hidden world.

Monsters roamed in the shadows, intelligent and powerful enough to choose prey and decide its fate. Monsters who planned, watched, stalked, and waited for the right moment to strike. Once they held a victim in their clutches these monsters took advantage of their prey however they wished.

Mira knew this, for she was one of them.

Not everyone she met was prey. Often she was just curious as to how they might respond to meeting such an extraordinary creature. Those she deemed prey she hunted for love, but many she let go when they proved uninteresting. Those she wished to keep never stayed.

The thrill of the chase. That’s what Mira lived for. Yet the few who could escape left her dejected, the most exciting prey a one-night stand, or worse, escaped before she even showed them why they might want to stay. She’d always wanted a way to stop them from afar—one not so deadly as her pinpoint accuracy made her bow and arrow.

There were many monsters in the jungle, some more hidden than others. Mira could conceal herself indefinitely in the thick foliage, but she made her presence known when it fit her fancy. Some monsters sought travelers with a friendly openness. Of others, only rumors spread. Some monsters even the lamias in the villages spoke of in hushed tones, few daring to search for them, even fewer finding them.

Mira knew she’d made a reputation in the human villages as a fearsome predator stalking the jungle, a monster who, if you saw her, had already caught you.

These other monsters were the hushed stories of those whom hushed stories were told about.

Many seemed to lead to one monster in particular. A monster to end all monsters—or a monster to start all monsters, if the rumors of her many progeny were true. An imposing spider woman who could wipe out a settlement, command an army, or host a delightful tea party with charming conversation.

The stories varied widely. Mira was sure most were embellished.

Nevertheless one aspect remained constant. Among her many abilities, her venom had a hypnotic affect, an ability she would use to keep her prey as pets or mates.

Mira slowed her slither when she picked up a scent—that familiar human scent, but with an undercurrent almost rusty, a scent she’d only picked up on humans from distant lands of cities. She saw the humans, and their attire matched the style she was directed to in the nearby lamia village—black uniforms with white pants, a red sash and red gloves. In those bright uniforms they stood out among the leafy jungle like a lone cloud in a blue sky.

To alert the humans to her presence Mira rustled noise among the foliage, ignoring all her instincts to lurk. With a glance in her direction they frowned and waved.

“Stop there, this area’s restricted. Please state your business.”

Mira stared at the humans. She found herself at a loss on how to proceed. She’d never encountered a human who didn’t gawk or run at first sight of her. These humans looked out of place—as loose and breathing as their attire appeared, one fanned herself as if cooking from the heat. She held a sort of smooth, flat stone which glowed on one side.

To give herself time to pull her thoughts back together, Mira cleared her throat.

“I seek an audience with the Lady Veda Rios.”

“Gotcha,” said the other guard. “You’re at the right place. What’s your name, do you have an appointment?”

Mira’s thoughts played catch-up. She’d expected flat refusal, that an aristocratic lamia would block any random jungle passerby from seeing her. Appointments hadn’t crossed her mind. She’d thought a lamia of Veda’s nobility would only see those bold enough to barge forth for an immediate audience.

Veda Rios, a lamia aristocrat of an old family from centuries past, rooted in the last great prime of lamia civilization when the offerings were great and the humans subservient. When the humans revolted, the lamias in power fled.

Across the world they spread, growing in wealth and power beyond that which they’d held as local deities. Veda Rios was a world traveler said to have meetings and dealings with monsters, some as old as her own family.

Mira didn’t have much use for old things. She had little use for history. She had none of her own.

“My name is Mira. I have no appointment.”

“Surname?” asked the guard.

“What name?”

“Er, family name?”

“No. I am only Mira.”

The guard glanced at the other, who shrugged. He nodded to Mira.

“Alright, we’ll see if she has time to meet with you.” He stepped forward. “I must ask that you keep anything that can be used as a weapon with us.”

The other guard pressed her flat stone to her ear and spoke to no one. Mira stared.

“What is she doing?”

“Calling Lady Rios’ butler. He’ll let us know if you can see her.”

Mira held a hand to her mouth and watched the guard.

“Ah, some sort of communication technology, I gather.”

“I thought the lamia villages knew about phones,” the guard said.

“The jungle is my home,” Mira said, arms crossed. “I have little need for the villages.”

“Oh, Ms. Rios said some lamias lived solitary in the jungle, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.” He flapped a hand and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I do need to hold any weapons you have while you meet with her.”

“Very well.”

Mira handed him her bow and arrows. A sturdy bow, a good bow, but no great loss if gone. It was the arrows that mattered, but in their current state they were of little use to catch the prey she really wanted.

For years Mira imagined steeping arrows in the venom from that spider woman, to capture interesting prey on the cusp of escape. For years Mira brought up this monster in conversation when she visited villages. For years only one person was consistently spoken of as knowing where she could be found.

In fact, Veda Rios was said to be old friends with her—older than most people could be friends.

“Green hair, red and blue striped tail,” spoke the other guard into her communication stone. “Yellow tunic and dark green hood. Olive skin, darker than Lady Rios’. Her eyes? Ahh—”

She swallowed and peered at Mira. The guard’s trembling face twitched, and Mira smiled. She was used to people staring into her eyes, but usually after she led them to.

“Yellow, very sunny. Uh-huh. Oh, nowhere as big as Lady Rios. Ah, but she is quite big, certainly big enough to—well it would be no problem to—she could easily—I mean—” She forced a trembling laugh as if desperately seeking to drop the subject. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Understood.” She tapped the stone and looked at Mira. “He’ll let us know if you can see Ved—Ms.—Lady Rios.” The other guard crossed his arms and pressed a hand over his mouth.

Mira chuckled. She lifted her tail to her cheek and rubbed a hand down it. The end she curled towards the guard as if inviting her to touch it.

“A little flustered, are you? Do you have a longing, perhaps?”

The guard stood rigid and breathed in. From the way she twitched Mira expected she was not unfamiliar with snaking coils. She could smell her sweat, a scent she’d encountered many times—fear, yet desire.

“No, sir! I mean, no ma’am! I mean—” The guard’s stone beeped and she exhaled. She pressed it to her ear as if it could teleport her out of the conversation. “Yeah? I mean, hello? Yes, sir?” She nodded and waved to Mira, mouth trembling. “Y-You’re clear to go. Lady Rios can see you now.”

“Perfect.” She slithered past the guards and winked to the flustered one. “I’ll see you when I come back.” After she left she heard the other guard laugh.

As fun as a distraction might have been, Mira had a goal to realize. She saw the camp among the trees, where she hoped to meet an old friend of that monstrous spider woman. She had little use for history, but perhaps today it would help.

History. Mira had no history. She found it hard to imagine people lived hundreds of years ago, let alone events with no bearing on her. Even fifty years ago seemed another world.

No one raised her to appreciate the old ways. No one raised her with new ways, for that matter. As far as her memory went, she’d lived on her own in the jungle all her days. Maybe—but those muddled memories of a childhood forgotten were history, and she had no use for that. No village, no history, no family of an absolute monarchy forced to flee by a revolt, not even a surname.

All she had in common with Veda Rios was their lamia forms, and that they were about to meet each other.

Mira stood at the edge of the camp composed of tents clustered throughout a clearing, each rivaling in size the cabin Mira stayed in about once every moon cycle. They looked clean despite standing in the jungle, and even the ground looked swept and polished. A dark and drab uniformity blurred the tents together, but at the center stood a scarlet tent rising above the rest like a parent tent watching over children.

Wagons and bikes bordered the camp, none with an obvious means of propulsion. Mira recalled hearing of self-propelled vehicles built by humans. Clever apes, they were. Mira liked the clever ones. They were fun to track.

Rarely she tracked more than one at a time. Here stood enough humans to rival a lamia village. A few occupied themselves examining the carriages, but most stood around chatting. She’d never seen so many humans at once.

She realized she remained at the edge of the camp. Why did she hesitate? She should march in like she did any part of the jungle—but so many humans about, she felt itchy. This was her jungle, but all these encroaching humans felt like another world.

“You must be Ms. Mira.”

Mira flinched at the man who snuck up on her—the first to do so in more moons than Mira could count. She stared at his face that gleamed like a moonlit lake, his eyes glowing like fire. Her first thought was that he wore armor the color of an overcast evening, but it would’ve had to be skin-tight armor. She looked at his slicked-back hair and realized it was the same material as his smooth skin, as were his suit and pants, which looked like polished paint applied to his body. This figure was made of some sort of metal.

“My apologies,” said the figure, voice rich and dense but with an undercurrent that buzzed Mira’s teeth like a static shock, “but you are Ms. Mira, correct?”

“Yes.” Mira turned to the camp when she realized she’d stared at him. She wasn’t even certain the figure’s mouth moved when he spoke. “I am here to see Veda Rios.”

“Excellent. I am Lady Rios’ butler.” He nodded his head and gestured a hand to the tents; he appeared to hold three more arms behind his back. “Please allow me to lead you to her tent, and she will see you momentarily.”

The metal man walked into the camp as smoothly as a human made of flesh—smoother, even. Mira stood back and narrowed her eyes.

“You’re not human, are you?”

The butler stood still as a statue.

“Lady Rios employs many types of figures.”

Mira inhaled. Of course an eccentric aristocrat would, but this—she would have felt more comfortable following a literal demon. This felt unnatural. His steps fell on the earth like muffled armor, yet Mira felt little vibration from his footfalls, as if his steps only skirted the ground. She smelled no scent from him, not even that of a metal, hence his ease in sneaking up on her. He was like a hole where something should have been.

She shook off her nerves—she had a goal, and no matter how ill at ease she felt by this figure, she would achieve it. She followed the butler to the tall central tent.

A few humans glanced her way, but most ignored her as if she were only one of a dozen lamias who’d passed through that day. It made Mira feel more misplaced than if they’d all pointed and shouted, and she grew itchier. She wasn’t used to humans composed and unconcerned about her.

At the tent the butler lifted a slitted flap and gestured for Mira to enter. She grabbed the flap.

“You first.”

“Perish the thought,” the butler said. “Please, allow me.” Mira narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not letting you behind me.” She didn’t know who or what he was or what he might do.

The butler seemed to raise his eyebrows, even though Mira wasn’t sure he had any. He nodded and entered, and Mira followed.

Inside looked darker than the jungle night. Hanging lamps lit the room, trimmed with gold that sparkled brighter than their dim light. At the center a table draped in woolen red divided the room in half, plush chairs on each side with high backs and thick armrests. Mira’s body twinged, and she felt stuffy—she never felt right indoors, and she hoped to get her answer quickly and leave.

She reminded herself the wide open jungle was an arm’s reach away and the tent walls no heavier than curtains. She could feel jungle soil under her curling body, if unnaturally scrubbed and swept. She could hear jungle birds outside the tent and smell the warm pungence of jungle plants through the gaps below the walls, though mixed with that warm human scent. The room was not at all isolated.

With a deep breath Mira held her face calm, which took all her nerves while that unsettling metal butler watched her.

He invited Mira to take a seat before leaving through another tent flap. Mira watched the way she stalked a prey so she would know the moment he returned. The warm chair felt luxurious, softer than even the wild cat Mahini who sometimes visited Mira, but she sat rigid, forward off the plush backrest, ready to stand at a moment’s notice. The butler returned with a tray in two hands.

“Would you like some tea while waiting?” He poured tea with a third hand into a cup on the other side of the table.

“No.” Mira eyed the butler until, against her better judgment, she pushed her previously-dodged question. “Are you human, or are you made of metal?”

“Is this an either/or?” The butler’s eyes flickered. “I am indeed made of metal.” He patted his chest with a clank.

“Are you—were you always like this?” Mira found herself pondering history despite having no use for it.

“Are any of us always like we are now?”

“Were you always made of metal?” Mira glared at the butler as he talked around her questions. His body remained still and stoic, never a flinch, never a changed expression—nothing to give a hint to his thoughts.

“I did have other material, long ago,” he said. “Technology has advanced over the years.”

Mira gave up. Whether he was human whose body was replaced with metal or a creature born of metal held no consequence to her.

She heard the scraping of a lamia’s slither, and the scent of unfamiliar citrus spices crept through the walls. The butler lifted a flap in the back wall.

“Allow me to present Lady Veda Rios.”

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