theattic | Ryslig PSL: Snorse Mythology

Lust's mouth twitched down. Her small pointed fangs peeked out over her lower lip.

"I'm rather glad I'm not from your world. That's ridiculous. You're clean, you're healthy, you're of a prime age... What is there to find objectionable about you? Simply your size? Why?"

Her confusion was honest. Never having a proper upbringing or traditional raising, with everything learned from her old master or the others, she'd never developed any cultural sense of attractiveness. Maurice's features were striking, he had beautiful eyes, he was solid and strong and resilient. What did it matter how much mass he had to him or not?

"Anyhow, you aren't in that world anymore. You're a handsome Kelpie, and I quite like your size." Though clearly it was something that preyed on his mind, the way he leapt to it so quickly when considering physical changes.

"How do you feel about yourself?"

He had to think about that, settling into another thoughtful frown as he stared at his hoof-tipped fingers. Maurice drew little invisible patterns on the woodgrain of the table. It was a good question--just something he didn't think about too much. It was just the way things were in 2008 America.

Maurice wondered if he ought to have kept his mouth shut. The color in his cheeks remained, though less for a fluttery bashful reason. Just hot discomfort.

"Objectionable...I guess..." He pondered hard on Lust's question some more. "People think I'm dumb...and poor...where I'm from, food that's bad for you costs way less I guess. And school--but! I'm not dumb! I'm a--I was a mechanic!" As Maurice puzzled this out and allowed himself to feel just a little bit angry, his ears pinned back. "I think people are just mean, Lust."

Maurice finally rose his eyes to meet hers again. He liked the way she looked at him--it felt less like he was being sized up for a meal and more like the things that came out of his mouth were the meal. It wasn't something he was used to feeling.

"I don't really know how I feel...how do you feel? I mean--about you? I mean, if so many people think something, it must be true right?"

Lust let him get it out, could see he was sorting through things in his mind. She was in no hurry, after all, and this seemed important. She didn't speak until he'd finished, addressing the immediate question first.

"If that were the case, I'd be forced to concede I'm little more than a pair of mobile breasts eager for any man I see, no working mind in my head. Which is not at all the truth, but that is a widely held opinion based on my appearance. I know what I am, and I live as I please. It's my life." She shrugged her upper set of arms. She'd earned this life, after all.

"I'm very happy with myself. I'm powerful, I'm unique, I decorate myself for me, not for anyone else. And...well, it doesn't take long to separate those who have an interest in who I am from those who only care about how I look. I've no need for the latter."

And neither did he, in her opinion.

Maurice took his turn to listen--and it showed. Both ears were cupped forward to catch her words even though his brow was furrowed with what looked like pains to understand.

He opened his mouth to argue that boobs were great, that he'd much rather be a beautiful woman than a fat mechanic--but he closed it. And he thought hard. A private part of him sometimes thought about being a beautiful woman even without being prompted...he wanted to be wanted. But Lust laying out her experience put a light on it he didn't really consider in those fantasies.

Wanted as a skin. Hated as a skin. Hide and scales. Maurice's horsey ears turned as the gears in his head did the same.

"I like those things about you too..." He'd liked how she'd guided his hands to explore her when they'd had their fling. It was like getting invited into someone's house to look at all the cool shit that made them happy. Maurice rubbed his neck again and one of his front hooves scuffed the floor of the restaurant. He finally gave her a sad little smile. "I wish I were more like you."

Lust leaned forward and reached out her lower hands, stretching across the table to reach for Maurice's in a fluid motion.

"There's no reason you can't be. I didn't have such an amiable view of myself when I first became what I am now. I had to learn to see what was wonderful about myself. You can do the same."

She'd help him, she thought that she could. Beyond that, she wanted to. What she saw when she looked at him...he should see that, as well. He was everything that she was, just as unique and amazing and desirable.

If nothing else, she knew how to make a man feel he was desirable.

Maurice almost withdrew his hands--not through any displeasure at being touched. Just, horse brain. Sudden movement. Big predator. Big spooky! He allowed her scaled hands to flow over his furry ones and dared to tighten his clunky hoof-tipped fingers around hers. He dipped his chin against his neck and blew out a little snort through his nose.

"Thank you...I really mean that. I never met nobody like you before." A thin thread of a thought appeared in his mind--how much more would she like him if he liked himself too? He wanted that.

"And you never will." Lust rubbed her thumb over one of his broad fingers, careful of her talons. That was one promise she could make to him. And she doubted she'd ever meet anyone like him, either. She certainly hadn't before.

"I'm glad we met, Maurice. And that you asked me to join you today. Now, shall we flag down waitstaff and have our lunch?"

As they were here to dine, after all.

Ryslig PSL: Snorse Mythology

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