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Welcome. As said before, I have uploaded the translation of the German text I have written before. I must admit that my initial plan was to write simple, plain smut and nothing more. It failed. I just can't write without expressing my toughtful side. In any case, you'll find both here. Thank you.

Gemini - Of Skin and Scales

_"Love conquers all - and leaves

a trail of devastation doing so."_

The winds howled in furious ecstasy and pierced the silken veil of midnight with their bodiless claws, dancing over her head. The mighty oaks and birches of the forest let their leaves rustle in ghostly applause, but Susan felt nothing but a gentle breeze that played with her black curls; It heralded of coming snow and embraced her like a chilly film. Her steps carried her swiftly along the dead straight path beneath her feet and confirmed the determination gleaming within her eyes. White stones had been strewn onto it and underlined each of her steps with a crunching sound, but even now, during a cold, stormy night, surrounded by the shadows of ancient trees and alone in a seemingly endless wood, she didn't fear to catch unwanted attention. How could a spiteful soul dwell in this place while its Master forbade even the wind to enter?

The moon shone outstandingly bright that night and cloaked the entire scenery in an unreal sharpness, as if every single shadow around her would have been drawn by an unwordly architect. Susan snuggled down in her coat and hasted onwards. The stars were shining above her like the eyes of heaven, but she only saw the path, only the stones leading her to the only reason why her heart was still beating.

In the end, the way opened into a grass-covered, circular clearing. Amidst stood a bench made of marble on a small raise, white as the stars were. Slowly, suddenly free of any hurry, she walked up to it and sat down.

She remained as she was for serveral minutes, enjoying the soft rustle filling the air and waited. Right now she surely was a feast for any artist to behold, she thought. The white bench and her black coat, her white skin and her pitch black hair... but she was neither a patient nor an artistic woman. She knew that he'd show up eventually, but she wanted to see him. At once.

"Samalven!", she shouted into the shadows: "I know you're here!"

"She knows, forsooth, she knows...", answered a disembodied whisper from everywhere alike: "But tell me: Isn't such knowledge an ill-fated mistress?"

Susan didn't allow him to frighten her: "Feeling guilty again?", she asked sharply: "Stop being a coward and show yourself!" Then, softer: "I missed you."

"So did I, Susannah, so did I... but this should not be."

"Still we both are here."

A frustrated hiss answered her: "Two mistakes that are already done! I shall not allow a third to take place!"

Susan sighed heavily. She had first met him eight years ago when she, a little girl, had stumbled onto this clearing, alone and without orientation. He had awaited her on the very bench she now was resting on, welcoming her sternly and without a word. She couldn't remember when she had lost sight on her parents, when their simple excursion had turned into a matter of life and death, but one thing she knew: Without Samalven's aid she would have died in this forest, either of thirst or of fear. She had never fullly understood his motifs, what made him carry her through seemingly impassable undergrowth for hours and hours, just to throw her onto the first path they crossed - where her parents found her shortly after.

Her life had never been the same again. A part of her hadn't left him and would never do. She had returned. Again and again she had searched him here, until he did the unthinkable and revealed himself to her. A single gaze assured her suspicions and his fears: They would never walk different paths again. Samalven's desperate tries to deny the obvious bond between them remained without success: He had had no coice but to accept that they, human and spirit, were weaved together in flesh and soul. Their first night sealed their fates and became the first of countless meetings. It had been hard for him, for his nature forbade him to show himself to her kind, but his feelings stood victorious, again and again. But this was the first time he showed such resolute resistance.

'We do it the hard way then', she thought and began her search. Emerald eyes combed through the meadow's fringe and memorized every detail, no matter how small. It took her every last bit of concentration, but eventually she spotted an oak with a suspiciously broad trunk. She approached the tree with the sleek calmness of a cougar until only a few steps lay between her and the sea of shadows engulfing the clearing.

"Gotcha", she just said.

For a long moment nothing happened, then the entire tree seemed to be torn in half. A large, pretty ill-tempered piece of it fell apart and stepped up to her.

Samalven had cast off his shape before the moonlight could unveil his features. He entered the clearing on scaled claws, dressed in the body of a grotesque combination of man and lizard. He measured more than six feet and was, despite winter's cold, completely naked. His fingers ended in dagger-like talons and a ridge of jagged spikes ran from his forehead to the tip of his long, slender tail. His crimson scales made him look as if he would have bathed in blood, but the most disturbing detail of his appearance were his eyes: Glittering in all colours of the rainbow like a mosaic of gems, enmeshed in a dance so kaleidoscopic that their sheer sight was terrifying.

Susan knew that he was trying to scare her with this monstrous visage, but all she could find in his features was primordial beauty. She wanted to be with him, no matter what body he would choose.

"I answered her call, my heart", the reptile assessed, now with a much darker and much more corporeal voice: "And now I beg her to let up on me."

She grabbed his hand without a word and dragged him with her - like a puppet he followed her to the bench, to their bench. Powerlessly, he let himself fall on it and stared at his hands. "Why?", he whispered: "Why is she doing this to me?"

"Because we both want it", she answered mildly. She took his hands in her own and doing so forced him to look at her. "And because you must understand that reason is not always right."

"I must not love her!", Samalven tried to break away from her, but she held him without mercy: "Love is a privilege of the living, I do not possess this birthright!"

"What could forbid you to love?", Susan asked faintly. Her fingertips ran softly over his back, feeling as if they melted a web of burning lines into his scaled skin as they went. Every touch made him shiver with desire. He would not be able to resist much longer.

"Duty!", the spirit shouted out and moved away from her: "You humans were thrown into this world without purpose and thus may shape your life as you desire, but I have both reason and purpose - and it does not include loving a woman!"

"But should one as beautiful as you be condemned to solitude and slavery?" She had sealed his lips with hers before he even had a chance to answer.

He answered her kiss with furious passion before he knew what he was doing. He grabbed her and pulled her down with him while human and reptilian tongues met and separated, danced with each other, played with each other. A gasp escaped Susan's throat, finding its echo in Samalven's purring. She felt his razor-sharp teeth running over her lips, just like his claws that now explored her body with infinite caution. She felt his hands reaching under her coat, stripping it off - he was caught in a rush of mating, a devotion that would accept no delays.

Shortly after, she was as naked as he was, but even now she felt no coldness. Her loved one didn't allow winter to disturb them. The young spirit's breath caressed her face and brought the smell of wild berries with it. His tongue felt hot in her mouth, as if his body was burning with an inner flame. They let loose of each other and shared an intense gaze, then he snuggled into her chest like a little child. "I love you", he whispered faintly, soft as rustling leaves.

Her arms embraced his head. "I know", she responded and kissed his forehead. She felt his member between their bodies, pulsing with blood and heat, but the time hadn't come yet. Susan allowed her hands to glide over his body, stroking him sometimes gently, sometimes roughly. Her nails floated along his spine, past his dorsal ridges and educed a moan from him while she whispered things into his ear that no one else would ever hear her utter. Samalven reponded to her actions and let his hands speak for him, not his manhood. The sharp claws adorning his fingertips granted his touches an unknown sharpness and the vague, exciting feeling of danger, the knowledge to lie beside a predator - just another thing that no human man would ever give her.

But while the reptile obviously enjoyed their exchange of endearments, she did not fail to hear his whimpering sounds, telling of repressed greed. His whole nature ordered him to throw himself onto her, to soak her with his semen, to impregnate her as fast as possible; No surprise, considering that he bore the spirit and ferocity of the entire natural world.

She eventually decided that he had waited long enough and directed her hand between their bodies. She quickly grabbed his shaft and felt him jolt in sudden intensity. She now concentrated on the heart of his lust, but what she did was certainly no simple masturbation. She gave him an expression of corporeality, reminded him of the pleasure only flesh could feel.

His body shook with convulsions, he squirmed and pressed his talons against her back. His tail whipped through the air, his face showed a quickly changing mixture of passion, enjoyment and pain and over and over again he breathed, gasped, screamed her name. Their meetings usually left a hunger for sexuality behind, lingering within his mind for days - something he had never told her - and of course he had to gave vent to that hunger somehow; But the services of his scaled claws had never given him as much delight as her skillful, soft hands. Maybe, his clouded mind thought, it was their spiritual bond that refined their corporeal gifts and made them unique, for one thing was beyond question: He felt in fact a stronger connection to the animals of the wild than to mankind, but whenever he had entered their mating circles, mounting vixens, rabbits and does in countless shapes, it had felt empty and toneless, nothing compared to the precious memories he connected with Susan and their bench of marble. He had barely formed the thought when her hand stopped its service. A disappointed whimper escaped his throat.

Susan laughed faintly and laid a finger on his lips. "Shsh", she whispered: "You were a good, patient boy and deserve a reward." She raised and for a moment allowed him to behold her pure, unclouded beauty, then she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a sitting position. His gaze was questioning, but she answered it with a delicate smile and sank down on her knees.

The young woman noticed an expression of recognition on his alien features, and Samalven spread his legs as wide as possible, drawing his body to the fringe of the bench. He knew what she was planning. She moved her face closer to him until her curls were tickling his thighs and examined his penis for the task to come.

It was typically repitlian in many ways. In contrary to Samalven's scaled skin, it was smooth and black, like a spear of obsidian. There was no foreskin, glans or any other human feature but it was easily visible that it would lie hidden within his body when lust wasn't calling it. A slitted opening in his skin hugged the base of the stiffened organ. He possessed no visible testicles or comparable adornments, but a clear liquid, much like salvia covered his entire member. It certainly measured eight inches in length and had a matching width - although Susan had never slept with a human, she didn't think that such a size was common. A fact that grew much more interesting, considering that the young spirit could freely choose his shape after all. Did even he know a kind of male pride? Was it correct to call him male in the first place? Whatever.

She grabbed the proof of his maleness and pulled it closer to her, knowing that it would never fit completely. She raised her gaze and saw Samalven smile. He had eventually accepted the situation and was ready to leave her the control it seemed. Satisfied with the run of events, Susan opened her mouth and let him in.

The sudden intensity of the next moment threatened to overwhelm her, and not only because of his sheer size. Yes, she could barely hold half of his length and yes, it stretched her lips wider than she would have expected - but that was nothing compared to what her other senses told her. Her beloved was an incarnation of the nature of this forest, his lust nothing less than the concentrated sexual drive its creatures possessed; That was yet another fact that made itself felt. The liquid covering his penis was filled with hormones, pheromones that she was inhaling in huge amounts, but that was nothing compared to what her tongue found. Even as he was sliding into her, it inflamed a fire in her loins she never felt before. His arousal became hers - much more extreme than her weak human body had expected. Suddenly there was nothing as delicious as his hot, imbuing malehood, nothing as desirable as his seed, his sperm, his sweet essence. What was supposed to be an erotical warm-up quickly became fiery seriousness. Almost driven insane by the heavy smell of animalistic lust, Susan pleasured him with hands and mouth alike, made her head bob up and down his length as fast as she could, caressed him with tongue, teeth and lips - what proved to be difficult. The sounds she produced in her zealous efforts, her heavy breaths and a constant cascade swallowing, slurping and gurgling gave the whole situation an almost vulgar appearance. She almost seemed to choke on him from time to time, but even that couldn't stop her.

Samalven had leaned back and enjoyed her treatment silent and relaxed. A hiss, moan or gasp escaped his throat now and then, but most of the time he restrained himself. He had barely ever felt such bliss in his life. He compared his current situation with their earlier nights of love and found differences and similarities alike. Her mouth and her slit both possessed that certain combination of warmth and tightness profoundly desired by the male part of his self. But there still were tongue lips, even her teeth that sent pulses of never felt delight through his body. She was the one directing the act, that as well was no common part of their mating ritual.

But the deeper Samalven delved into his rush of pleasures, the wilder he became. The beast in his hard grew stronger and stronger - and it was a rather dominant one. Shortly after, Susan felt his claws pressing against her temples and, trapped in the stern grip of his hands, she became the one directed. He eventually succumbed to the influence of his ecstasy and began to mate her actively; What basically meant that he shoved his hips into her throat fast, deep and powerful, again and again. Susan's hands stopped their work, her eyes widened with surprise. For a moment she was afraid to suffocate, but her reptillian lover failed to withstand the extreme stimulation he now received before she did.

When his whole body began to twitch, she now that the time had come. She backed away, knowing what an orgasm meant in his case. She licked his shaft and brought him into Elysium with a few, greedy caresses, then, following a spontaneous urge, she took his tip back into her mouth and suckled like a little child. His climax came and he exploded into her throat. His seed flooded her mouth in split seconds, confronting her with a taste that made all earlier impressions seem unimportant. She drank with undying thirst, swallowed what ever she could, but it was simply too much. Her lips overflew with it, made the hot, sticky liquid run down her chin, drip on her exposed breasts and the cold earth. Susan didn't notice it, the only thing existing was the black spear in her mouth and her beloved, whose face spoke of orgasmic joy, of absolute bliss. To satisfy him was everything that counted.

Twenty seconds passed before the torrent ran dry. With a gasp, Samalven broke away from her, staring at her sperm-covered face in unbelieve. She smiled at him and a trickle of his seed ran down her lips.

"What have I done?", the lizard whispered.

Susan crossed her legs and grinned: "You returned my favour."

The spirit slumped down beside her. His iridescent eyes were open, but it seemed as if they weren't seeing her. "Lady Lyssa preserve me...", he mumbled: "Shall I remain this weak for all eternity?"

"Not weak", repeated Susan and kissed him gently. He could taste his own seed and had to fight down a sudden surge of passion. As his love continued, her voice became a whisper in the wind: "I give you myself... I give you my self."

Softly as a falling leave, she lied down to presented her body to him, as beautiful as seduction, as haunting as damnation. Her pale skin contradicted her black hair and deep red lips, the cat-like features of her face competed with the soft curves of her body. While her curls grew freely, she had thoroughly shaved her lower parts - what, although it was an unnatural act, found Samalven's approval. Mammals had never attracted him as much as reptiles did and he despised their hair once it came to sexuality.

"Do I really have to force you?", Susan asked. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down until he was lying on top of her. "Kiss me", she ordered, feverish with lust. His hands enfolded hers and united they remained, with closed eyes, lost in each other.

Once more she was the one taking the initiative. She embraced his body, slender and wiry and rubbed her lower body against his malehood, hanging between them, stiff as ever. One single movement.

Samalven moaned into her mouth and pushed his hips forward, driven by instinct. He missed his target and growled with frustration, then he led his hand between her spread legs, grabbed his penis and guided it in.

Her lover - no friend of long foreplays - forced himself into her with a single, powerful advance. The young woman knew his size well enough, still the feeling of being filled was as overwhelming as ever. As his scaled skin kissed her loins, she expected him to take her like a wild animal from now on, intense, fast, fiery. She did it with good reason, considering that the young spirit often outclassed any rapist in his mating frenzy. But instead she felt him pulling back slowly. The lizard took his time before he sank back until her feminity embraced him completely once more. Susan moaned lightly. Such a tender treatment was the last thing she would have expected.

"She served me in the name of her own love", he whispered into her ear without stopping his careful thrusts: "How could I dare to name myself her lord?"

Although his restraint costed him every last bit of willpower, Samalven still enjoyed their unification greatly. Her soft flesh held him so tight, so hot, that even the smallest movement stimulated him in a way no other being would ever be able to give him. Their liquids mixed in their mouths and loins and allowed him to increase his pace as time went by. Soon he broke their embrace, stemming himself onto his arms, giving his thrusts much more power. Susans moans soon became screams, but they spoke of rapture, not of pain - not of unwelcomed pain at least. Her lover joined her soon, no hiss and no snarl could express what he was feeling now.

Susan was barely able to control her own body by now, but somehow she managed to engulf his bottom with her hands, pressing him closer to her. The message was clear: Despite the fact that the slim reptile was already giving her more than a human should be able to take, she still wasn't satisfied. She wanted more inside of her, more of him. She pressed her lips, still covered in his semen, against his scaled snout in blind desire. Mating with a lizard was no longer a strange thought. She loved him and she wanted him, no matter how he looked, no matter what he was.

Meanwhile, his movements had gained the speed and ferocity she was used to. Skin and scales collided rapidly, now that his black spear sank fully into her with each and every thrust.

Susan's eyes flickered and she almost started to drool, her limbs twitching uncontrolled. While her orgasm whipped her into St. Vitus' dance, her muscled clenched around her loved ones malehood, making him hiss with surprise. His tail coiled around one of her legs and he threw back his head. His tongue hang out of his mouth, but although he was mounting his female with all his passion, he wasn't ready yet.

By the time the young spirit finally reached his climax, Susan had almost passed out. His muscled cramped and he forced himself into her for the last time, shivered and let loose. Wave after wave of his life-giving seed was spilled into her body, filled her insides with blazing heat; His penis seemed to pulse, with every gush of sperm he gave to her. Serveral seconds later, he had no energy left in his body and with a last, deeply satisfied sigh, he collapsed over her.

--

The first thing Susan saw after their union was Samalven's face as he - still clothed in scales - watched her rise from the ground, kneeling beside her. As she did, she felt her cloak slip from her shoulders; He had used it to cover her naked body. Still a bit drowsy, she smiled at him. "Hello", she mumbled happily.

He wasn't smiling and hers began to tremble. She would have never admitted it, but suddenly she was afraid of him. The lizard bowed forward and slowly enfolded her into his arms. He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. "She knows that I love her, Susannah", he whispered into her ear: "I know that she nurses an equal feeling for me."

"Yes". Her smile returned.

"Will this bond last until our days have passed? Is there nothing that could destroy our love?"

The woman grinned: "Not if I can help it."

Susan could feel him nod. "May Lady Lyssa forgive me then"

Even while she was still trying to understand the meaning of his words, a sudden surge of agonizing pain rushed through her body. Reflexively, she knocked the spirit away from her and clutched at her chest. A shiver of terror ran through her as her fingers found something that didn't belong there. She lowered her gaze and froze: The pale moonlight revealed a sharp splinter of wood, pierced between her breasts and directly into her heart. Blood poured from the wound in large amounts, but the pain was already gone. She knew what that meant: The shard had impaled her cardiac chambers - she had minutes to live.

Speechless, she raised her gaze to her loved one's face. Samalven returned it without blinking, wielding a mask of horror, as boundless as if he would be the one sentenced to death. Crystal tears ran from his eyes, down his face and dripped to the ground.

"She forced me to do this", the reptile sobbed: "She said it herself: Only death can divide us now. And divide we must." Susan kept staring at him, she couldn't understand his words. At last, she felt her strength leave her and fell forwards and into her murderer's hands. He turned her around, carfully, tenderly, and bedded her head on his lap.

The lizard kissed her forehead and whispered: "The forest lies dying. The energies of my mistress do no longer flow freely, the animals age, the plants wither, even the air becomes old and stale. I refuse my burden as protector and preserver because I can only think about my love. I have told her...", he stopped and turned his tear-soaked face to the moon: "I have told you that I am not allowed to love. That my duty binds me. You forced me to choose - but I must not prize a single live above my entire forest. I..." His stream of words ran dry and he embraced her tightly, begging for solace. His tears mixed with her blood as he pulled her closer, crying as he did.

Susan's quickly fading mind understood that he most probably suffered harder than she did. Even now, dying in his arms, she felt no fear and no hatred. Her love had been the essence of her live and now she died for and because of it. Truly one of destiny's masterpieces.

Shivering, she took his hand and looked into his face. Her field of view began to turn grey, but she fought the shadows consuming her. "We both did what he thought to be the right thing", she whispered weakly: "It came how it had to come. I forgive you."

Now the young spirit cried without restraint. He pressed his head against hers, wailing and sobbing, and held her embraced until he felt that life had left her.

He threw his head backwards and screamed out his agony, the pain of a slave that had paid the ultimate prize to escape freedom.

--

After hours of mourning, Samalven rose clumsily, like in trance. He carefully grabbed the cold, pale body of his love and carried it to their bench, where he laid it to rest. He closed her eyes and kissed her for the last time, as lovingly as ever. His tears flew again, gems of flawless beauty - and wherever they touched the dry soil of the forest, roses, white and red, began to grow and spread at an amazing speed. Soon the entire clearing had become a field of flowers.

"For the loved one the red, and the white for the dead", he mumbled. This field would be Susannah's tomb from now on. She would rest in its heart, untouched by decay. The splinter in her chest would be an eternal testament of his shame - and a reminder of the sacrifices that fate demanded.

The spirit assured that time wouldn't harm Susan's body, then he stripped off his shape and ascended into the sky that would soon see a new dawn. To a new life. To the burden of immortality.