Truth be told, she was the first lamia he had seen at all, and he was somewhat taken aback when he first noticed her. He had always been told to stay away from them; his childhood was filled with stories of little rats disappearing down many a lamia's gaping mouth when they wandered from the home nest, or refused to eat ant stew. But she seemed perfectly benign out in the open, and the various persons around her hardly even noticed her, save a young human who tripped over her tail as he ran across the pathway from a pursuing market guard.
That still didn't stop her from being notorious with the other soldiers stationed in Sazta City. Stories of her exploits abounded. She was the local temptress, according to some, who whisked young rats away from service. Supposedly, she was once part of the chieftain's harem and had escaped. Others said she was a magi or a spy from the northern federation who used special potions to lure the unaware into her arms. More than a few even claimed to have seen her pushing through the crowd with a large bulge in her midsection.
But Jeride saw no bulge, nor any potions. Her deep blue eyes met his suddenly from across the way, and if she used any sort of magic it involved no incantations or arm motions, for he found himself suddenly caught in an irresistible urge to approach her. He did so, walking up timidly as she stared into his eyes and waited.
"Hello," he said, leaning on his poleaxe as the wind whipped the feathers of his turban about.
"Greetings, sir," she replied in a deep, sultry voice. "Have I done something wrong?" She asked. She eyed his weapon cooly.
"No," he said, still caught in a daze. He noticed her worried gaze on his axe, and laid it against a nearby tent.
"You've never seen me before, have you?"
"I haven't."
"I've seen many of you." She moved slowly towards a nearby tent, full of richly ornate rugs. "Would you like to get out of the sun for a while?"
Jeride nodded, and followed her dreamily into the tent, taking care not to stumble over her long, tapered lower body. As he slipped under the flap of the tent, he noticed right away the cooler temperature and took off his turban. The lamia coiled at one corner, near an ancient wooden cabinet, and watched him patiently as he stood in the middle.
"Sit," she said, and he complied.
"I suppose this is your business."
"You could say that. I travel North, to my home, every winter to trade."
"Mmm"
"have you ever been?" She asked.
"No, no. This is my first post."
"You are a newbie," she said teasingly, smiling at him. He chuckled, pained, and nodded. Now that he was closer to her, he could appreciate her slender upper body, although he tried desperately not to stare. It was difficult.
"Well," she continued, "How long have you been to this fine jewel of the desert?"
"Three weeks."
"Only three weeks! You've barely arrived, mouse." She reached down into the cabinet now, and brought out a flask. Jaride eyed it cautiously, remembering the rumors of potions.
"A beverage," she said, noticing, and took out two earthenware cups. "Silkyweed extract. A... local brew, although this is from my personal reserve."
"You make it yourself?"
"It is not that difficult, once you develop a knack for fermentation. Some of the locals make it quite sweet, although I prefer my own taste." She poured some into both cups, and, holding them in her delicate hands, slithered over to him and placed one in the palm of his hand.
He took the cup from her and sniffed. It had a sweet, almost fruity smell, and he noticed the dryness of his throat. Eagerly, he took a sip of the liquid, and smiled as the sweet juice ran down his throat. "It's delicious," he said, taking another drink.
"Thank you." She took a sip herself, smiling. "Why don't I close off the flap, get some of that sun out?" She moved towards the entrance to her shop and began untying the ropes that bound the rolled flap.
"I thought you scalies liked warm spots," he said. He could feel the alcohol getting into his head as he stared more freely at her hips and the small curve of her sweet breasts.
"We're just as warm blooded as you, rat," she said without slight. The knot came loose, and the flap rolled down and waved back and forth, blocking the light. For a moment it was pitch dark inside, until his eyes adjusted and he made her form out as she slithered back towards the cabinet and pulled out an oil lamp. A match strike lit the tent up, the bright colors of the rugs suddenly flaring in his view, and then a steady, warm glow bathed the room as she lit the lamp and set it aside. The light played on her slightly iridescent scales, giving her skin the look of a green, shimmering ocean.
"Better?" She asked, and took another sip from her drink.
He lifted his cup to her in salutation. "Very nice." She smiled contently, and slithered back towards him.
"The sun gets to me sometimes," she said. "I've lived in this climate for decades, but I still cannot get used to it."
"Decades?" She looked young, although he realized that he had no real sense of age for such an exotic creature.
She nodded.
"How long do you live?" He asked.
"Several hundred years," she said, to his shock. "Very long, I know, although I am still young. Compared to your kind, at least."
That was true; the oldest ratkin barely made it past 40, and only then as weakened, dependent creatures.
"It must be amazing to watch the world change," he said, feeling very small and insignificant.
She shrugged. "It isn't quite like that," she said. "It changes just as slowly as you perceive. We just have to sit through that much more of it."
"Still, all the places you've been, the people..." he stopped, as he saw her face flash a hint of sadness.
"Many people, I've known, and watched wither. It is not easy; you grow to know death, to be acquainted with it." She stared at her drink, and took another sip reflexively. "But you don't dwell on that. You dwell on life, and living, and the moment." Her eyes came back to his, and she smiled at him seductively.
He smiled back, feeling somewhat dizzy. "Here here," he said, as she approached him. Her body seemed to wobble back and forth, until he noticed that it was him wobbling, barely able to stand. "This drink is strong," he muttered.
The lady nodded. "By the way," she said, as her arms met his waist, "I did not get your name."
"Jeride. Jeride Kamash."
"Jeride. My name is Nava."
"That's a nice name," he said stupidly, slurring. She smiled, moving her body around behind him, and he leaned back into her cool, hard scales, feeling her breasts on his back.
"It is an old name, from a language no longer used."
"It's very nice sounding," he repeated.
"You're warm," she said, clutching him and pressing her body into his back. The sensation was strangely erotic, moreso than he would have expected. The drink was really getting to him. He let his arms fall back onto her hips.
"Do you want to know why you feel so dizzy?" She asked.
He nodded.
She licked at his large ear, her tongue playing along the membrane, and began kissing his neck. Suddenly, two pinpricks of pain erupted on his shoulder, and he squeaked as he felt something burning enter his body. She was biting him!
"What are you..." he muttered, and began to go stiff.
"I put a little venom into it. Very potent, although in the drink it only dulls the... nerves a little. And the fear." She continued to clutch at him, holding his body as tingles spread over his skin. He tried to struggle, but his body seemed disconnected. "It paralyzes the body," she continued, "And dulls the spirit. Never lethal, just demobilizing."
She spun around towards his front, wrapping a full length around his legs, and kissed him seductively on his narrow muzzle. "Don't be too afraid," she said, despite the terror in his eyes.
"W-what are you going..." he muttered, panting.
"Just relax and let your body breathe." She looped around him again, and was now up to his waist. Another loop, and her cool body encircled her lower stomach and squeezed, although he could barely feel it.
"Please," he gasped.
"Don't worry, it won't hurt."
"Don't," he finished, as she let him collapse to the ground. Suddenly, he felt something moving up between his legs, and the tip of her tail tickled his scrotum. His eyes bugged, and then he felt more of that indescribable pleasure bubble up, heightened somehow by the drink. He groaned.
"That's it, little mouse," she said as she slid her body along his sheath. He felt himself swelling down there, growing hard as she rubbed at him, and her mouth came down on his own, kissing him. His eyes squeezed shut suddenly as he felt a warmth engulf his member.
"Ugh..."
Nava swooned, her eyes shuttering in pleasure as she drove her opening back and forth over him. "Just lie still," she said between heavy breaths. "That's it, that's good." She began moaning as her movement increased, and Jeride's body began to twitch and spasm in his own drug induced pleasure. His hips pulsed back against hers as their passions increased and ascended to climax.
At last, Nava shuddered, squeezing tightly around him as her opening leaked prodigiously onto his fur. A moment later, as she continued reflexively pulsing over him, he came with a shuddering gasp, clenching his eyes shut as spurt after spurt drove into her wet maidenhood.
When he finished, he withdrew and slumped, limply, in her supportive coils. His eyes slowly opened to find her staring lovingly at him.
"I suppose you know I'm going to eat you now," she said matter of factly. He hadn't... but somehow, he felt no fear in knowing and stared dumbly back at her. The sexual release had done just as much as her venom to plunge his spirits in an impenetrable murk, and any terror that lurked within him felt dissipated and unimportant. At the moment, his only concern was a sort of fulfilled longing for her presence.
"It won't hurt, in your current state," she said, holding his chin up to her mouth. "They say, back home, it feels rather close to being in the womb. You will feel it for a while, though, paralyzed as you are." She looked forlornly at him for a moment longer, with nothing left to say, and whispered a "thank you" into his ear. Then, slowly, she opened her jaws and ran them down over his muzzle.
Jeride watched distantly as her snout traveled up his own, pushing back his whiskers, until it overcame his vision and he was engulfed in the darkness of her mouth. It was wet inside, and reeked of that drink she had swallowed, but otherwise he felt at ease as his head was jammed towards her gullet. As she pressed his ears back, a pressure built around his muzzle and pulled on him, and very rapidly she began to swallow.
Once again the sensations were strangely pleasurable, and he found himself nuzzling into the wet space lovingly, pressing forward against his deadened instinct for survival. As the lamia engulfed his narrow shoulders, and continued down over his chest and stomach, he fell limp and motionless and let the rhythmic contractions run along his body and pull him down into her. The sound of the bazar was muffled; he felt and heard only her steady heartbeat and the occasional strain of her muscles making wet noises, and was able to concentrate on the sensation of slipping down a wet, narrow tube. The last of the outside world disappeared as her warmth slid around his footpads, and then as she dragged her lips along the tip of his tail.
Only the path of her viscera lay before him, and he slid through her body without complaint until he came to a stop in her stomach. There he lay, feeling it clutch at him. A liquid began pouring prodigiously around him, soaking his fur, but by then his oxygen deprived brain was barely registering any feeling at all, and he slipped into unconsciousness after a few minutes -- but not before having a familiar feeling of a similar place he had lived in, a long, long time ago.
Nava curled around the bulge in her stomach in a tangle of coils, listening gently to her digestion of the rat. For hours, she lay relaxedly, letting her own venom course through her body until at last her senses came back to her and the warmth in her stomach died away. She remembered the soldier's pole axe, sitting out in the hot sun, and slithered over to get it.
She spent the rest of the night sleeping, exhausted as her body went to work on the rat. The next day, she was seen in the bazar, perusing the merchants, and rumors once more spread through the city. The emerald lady had claimed another victim.