Snake in the Grass

Snake In The Grass
=Chapter One=
 * -by Ruadh nic Arthuaine

Aisling nursed a small glass of silverleaf cordial as she watched Layla gyrate lithely upon the stage to a chorus of catcalls and intermittent showers of silver. She had barely been at the Blowhole a fortnight when Tai strolled in that night, as self-assured as ever. Her pretty mouth had almost curled into a smirk of distaste before she forced it back into the pouting half-smile that was Aisling through and through.

''Sutarn's nether ring...I need a smoke. Shame indeed the telltale odour would surely give me away. It is far too early that I should risk discovery.''

She straightened and smiled sweetly as Tai emerged, favouring her with a nod on his way to the door. A cursory inspection of her disguise proved it was still in place, her scars shielded by a paste of crushed sun-bleached coral. It dried to powder on application and melded itself to the contours of the changing expression without cracking. Rising to her feet, she threw back the last of her cordial and smoothed the fabric of her skirt.

''So, he has business here – often enough, by the looks of it, since he seems to come and go as he pleases. His presence here tonight is evidence enough that their reach, whomsoever he works for or with, is extensive indeed. But how long must I play the part of an empty-headed ingenue? My patience is sorely tested as it is.''

As she traversed the drunken throng about the bar to return her empty glass, a heavy hand closed about her arm.

'What pursuit does a succulent sweetmeat such as yourself have in a place like this?'

A thoroughly inebriated Night Elf stood before her, his eyes salaciously sweeping about her person.

Aisling compelled her chin earthwards and fought the rapidly rising tide of revulsion within her. 'If you please, sir; I sing here and nothing...nothing else.'

'A singer! Indeed you must possess a most beauteous voice, but surely there are other skills those luscious lips may perform.' He slid his arm about her waist and pulled her to him with a prurient waggle of his tongue, its moist tip questing towards the curve of her cheek and ear.

His voice fell to a whisper, 'And perhaps I may be permitted a sampling of what these lips have to offer as well – I promise that they will sing as prettily as those upon your face must.'

Aisling stiffened with a start as his hand slipped between her legs.

'Sir, please! It's against the rules!' Aisling fought the urge to Change and rend the libidinous Lothario limb from limb. ''I could kill you here and now, trogg-mater. But I have far larger quarry to pursue.'' She instead planted her hands on his heaving chest and began to push firmly, turning her head away from the drunken fumes upon his panting breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she espied Ruhk beginning to lunge forward, nostrils aflare with rage at the Night Elf's boldness.

'But your struggles are most appealing, my sweet. I assure you it only serves to fuel my passion, thus why deny me that which only would bring aught but pleasure to us both? If you will but kiss me, I will show you sensations yet unknown to you; you will writhe under me and beg for more.'

His hands slid to her buttocks in an earnest grip that was almost painful. As she felt him grind against her, she allowed her reserve the merest slip.

'Do you attempt to sate your lust upon me, libertine, you may find it to be your last.' The Night Elf's eyes widened in horror as the pretty young thing in his arms metamorphosed into a snarling demon with glowing catlike eyes with fangs that hinted at the carnage they were more than capable of.

Before he could cast her from him, Ruhk shouldered his vast bulk between them and seized him by the throat. The Tauren's inexorable iron grasp halted his attempts to expose her and he found himself helpless to do anything but gasp for air as Ruhk dragged him towards the exit and brusquely flung him into the balmy Bay night.

Aisling stood impassive and cold-eyed among the suddenly silent patrons for a moment before remembering herself. Oh fel...I'm expected to be upset, aren't I? Burying her face in her hands, she began to manufacture a series of heartrending sobs.

Ruhk turned back to her, his liquid eyes questioning, 'You ok, missy?' Perturbed, he attempted to place a comforting paw upon her shoulder but she turned and ran from the room. Behind him, the patrons seemed to shrug and the silence at the bar was soon replaced by its customary cacophony of drunken conversation and lewd yells.

((tbc...be prepared for an injection of gratuitous violence ))