The majority of votes on the last poll said that the erotic content in the tale was shameful, so I have endeavored to address that issue in this post. If I’m anything, it’s accommodating. Accommodating and inspiring. Accommodating and inspiring and prim and proper.

Atrocious plucked a pristine white teacup up by its ceramic sliver handle and tentatively sipped at the brew within. She was well washed and dressed in her freshly cleaned clothing, her cheeks ruddy red with good health, her eyes sparkling. Whilst she imbibed her liquid refreshment Ayla stood behind her carefully re-braiding her hair.

“I rather enjoyed our intimate congress,” Ayla said, her brow furrowed slightly with concentration as she deftly wove Atrocious’ blonde strands into tight plaits. Ayla’s own hair was swept up into one large braid and wrapped around her head in a style that drew attention to her fine high cheek bones and exquisite eyes. She wore a long beige silk gown cinched just below her bosom and to Atrocious she appeared to be a very vision of celestial femininity.

“Mmm, quite,” Atrocious agreed, coloring ever so slightly at Ayla’s tawdry choice of words. “But let us not speak of such base things. Let us speak of loftier ideals.”

“Very well,” the witch agreed amicably. “The weather is pleasantly tolerable today.”

“I can only concur,” Atrocious nodded. It was true, for the sky was wonderfully blue and barely a cloud dared blemish the sky. Colorful butterflies flitted about in the bushes, flashes of bright red and blue wings against the prickly gorse. “Pray tell me,” she said, carefully placing the tea cup back on its saucer. “When will this spell of propriety dissipate? I must confess I find it rather difficult to express myself adequately.”

“That is because you wish to say terribly foul things,” Ayla smiled smugly. “I tire of the profanity.”

A glimmer of anger danced in Atrocious’ eyes, the only outward expression of the anger that was boiling in her breast. “Perhaps I would not be so profane if you would be so kind as to allow me to leave. I have matters to attend to.”

Preoccupied in the act of tying Atrocious’ braid with a thin leather cord, Ayla took a moment to reply. “And what matters are those?”

“They are only of concern to me,” Atrocious said, drawing herself up rather stiffly.

“But I have made them my concern,” Ayla insisted.

Atrocious was not swayed by the argument in the slightest. “You are not my female progenitor!”