They say love is blind. They don’t know what they’re talking about.

Atrocious Lex | Part Seven

Ayla looked down at her captive with a smirk that lacked a certain amount of warmth. As silence stretched out she put her hands on her hips. “Are you always in the habit of spying on people?”

“Sometimes?” Atrocious answered the question with a question as her eyes darted around the room. She was looking for a way out, but Ayla was blocking her way fairly effectively. Sure she could have maybe pushed past her or applied a little more physical force if necessary but Atrocious was not given to outright aggression in most instances, and certainly not against beautiful ladies she’d recently seen in compromising situations. There was also the magic to consider, oh, and the fact that Ayla was bigger than she was. None of those things would help if worst came to worst.

“Someone should teach you a lesson,” Ayla purred, reaching out towards Atrocious with her fingers splayed. “A lesson in when to look and when not to look.”

“Listen, I…” Atrocious began to apologize, but before she could finish the sentence her vision went black. She uttered a shriek of fear, afraid that Ayla might have killed her and that she was looking into the void of her own non-existence, but a hand on her knee and a voice that was quickly becoming familiar spoke.

“Calm down.”

“Calm down?” Atrocious pawed at her eyes, trying to pry away whatever was preventing her from seeing. “I can’t see! I’m blind!”

An amused chuckle floated to her as the hand patted her knee. “It’s just a spell. It will wear off after a time.”

Atrocious could hear a smile in the woman’s voice. It did not make her feel any better about her situation. She took a deep breath. She was clearly dealing with a mad witch of one description or another. She was just going to have to play along until she got her sight back, then run like hell.

“Now, what shall we do to teach you a lesson?” Ayla asked. “You’re filthy you know. What have you been up to?” It was a rhetorical question hardly requiring an answer and the mud didn’t seem to dissuade Ayla as she slowly slid her hand up from Atrocious’s knee to her inner thigh.

Atrocious gulped. The outcome of this little interlude appeared to be all too clear as her body instinctively responded to Ayla’s touch. The pulsing arousal between her legs returned with a vengeance, reliance on her other senses heightened by her inability to see. She parted her legs slightly and moaned happily when Ayla slid her fingers all the way up and pressed her fingertips gently against Atrocious’ core for a moment.

Unfortunately the pleasant sensation was short lived. The fingers withdrew and the next thing Atrocious felt was a quick slap across her face. It was not hard enough to be truly aggressive, more like the swatting motion of a cat toying with its prey. Caught between desire and fear, Atrocious growled in response.

“Naughty,” Ayla noted in the darkness. “Very naughty.”

Before Atrocious could curse, the fingers returned between her legs. Ayla stroked through her britches, petting her pussy with a massaging motion that elicited soft moans. It was hard for Atrocious to stay angry when she felt so good, it was hard to be afraid when her hips were lifting off the chair and her mind was consumed with the desire to remove her pants.

Boldly, Atrocious reached down and shoved at the waistband of her britches, forcing them down over her behind. She was forced to clamp her thighs together a motion that ejected Ayla’s fingers, but it was the work of a moment to kick her muddied pants off and when she was done she spread her legs hopefully once more.

A delighted burst of laughter met the action. “A miscreant that takes her own pants down, fancy that.” Atrocious felt Ayla come closer, her breath soft on her ear. “I’d love to take you my dear, but first…” Atrocious cringed, expecting pain and recrimination. Maybe she was about to be beaten, or perhaps forced into hard labor. What Ayla actually said was worse. “You need a bath.”