Things have come to a head, a head I say!

The sullen stand-off continued inside the witch’s hut. Ayla was entirely physically recovered from the blow almost immediately, but her bruised ego was not so easily magicked away. She sat bolt upright on the bed, glaring at Atrocious in a menacing fashion. Atrocious remained slouched down against the far wall, her arms wrapped around her knees. Eyes filled with uncertainty flicked watchfully between Ayla and Kira as she chewed on a ragged fingernail. Only the warrior seemed unaffected by all the drama. She lounged in the chair she’d rescued after its tumble with Ayla, smiling quite merrily. “Oh cheer up,” she said eventually. “You both look like someone told you the sky is falling.”

“I will be much better the moment I switch her behind red,” Ayla said, her voice as crisp and cold as the winter wind.

“Easy there,” Kira said, holding a hand up. “It’s not going to improve matters.”

“It will improve matters for me,” Ayla insisted.

“Will it? If you beat her for hitting you, what will she do next? You think she will suddenly become obedient?” Kira laughed a short laugh, letting the dimples in her cheeks come out to play. “Ayla, you have to know better than that.”
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Hullo! The last poll gizmo got broken in the shift, but I’ll bring it back in future posts, because it was fun. In the meantime you can comment if you’re so inclined. Or you could lurk in the shadows and giggle to yourself too, that’s also thoroughly acceptable. Although admittedly, this isn’t really much of a giggly instalment.

Atrocious lurked in the corner of the room whilst Ayla recovered. She’d tried making for the door again, but a look from Kira had been enough to make her reconsider that course of action. The warrior had a certain understated authority about her, and Atrocious was wary of crossing anybody else that day. Her knuckles were aching from the blow she’d inflicted on the witch and the uncomfortable feeling of guilt had settled in her stomach to stay. No matter how many times she told herself that Ayla had totally deserved what she’d gotten, she still wasn’t used to hitting people and seeing them hurt. Once the initial rush of besting Ayla abated, there was nothing but a sick feeling left behind.

“Okay, sit up slow, I’ll get you one of your potions,” Kira was saying whilst Atrocious inspected her metaphorical navel.

Ayla sat up slowly, a dark reddish bruise blooming on her jaw. The look she gave Atrocious was devoid of emotion, which was scarier than if she’d been obviously angry. Atrocious wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere she wouldn’t be hunted down. She shrank into the corner, hoping that whatever Ayla did, it wasn’t too bad.
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In which ends of tethers are discovered…

Kira’s dark, lustful gaze ran hot over Atrocious, but Atrocious was rendered immune to its charms by a growing anger rooted in the realization that she had been very close to being sold like a pig.

“One moment please.” Atrocious held up a finger at Kira, turned on her heel and marched back towards the witch’s cottage with determination written all over her face. The warrior watched her go with something of a smirk, then followed at a distance.

Atrocious stormed through the forest, bounded over the garden fence and kicked the wooden cottage door open with enough force to shatter the lock. Without waiting to see if she was in trouble, she stepped inside the cottage fuming with barely controllable fury. “You.” She pointed a shaky finger at Ayla. “You were going to SELL me!” Continue reading →

Experimentation with other site formats aside, this has been sitting in my drafts folder for far, far too long…

Having been put outside, Atrocious did the logical thing and made a cautious attempt at escape. Her enthusiasm at the prospect of getting free was tempered by a strong sense of skepticism. She doubted that Ayla would simply let her walk away, and it turned out that she was right. As soon as she reached the front gate, she felt a force pressing her back towards the house. She opened the gate and tried to walk out anyway, but the more she tried to leave, the more the force pushed back.

Making a muffled sound of frustration, Atrocious tried harder still. It was a mistake. The force, which had been a nebulous, wall type feeling suddenly became quite discrete. She felt as though she was being manhandled back to the cottage, carried by unseen hands. Fighting against them didn’t work, she tried struggling and was rewarded with a hard slap across her ass.

Spinning around, Atrocious slapped back at thin air and was pleased when she made contact with something solid and fleshy. There was a muffled sound of pain then she was taken hold of very firmly indeed, yanked forward and pressed against a chest that boasted the finest pair of invisible breasts she’d ever felt. A deep female voice rolled through her.”Stop fighting, disobedient little brat.”

“Let me go,” Atrocious whispered hoarsely, forcing her vocal cords to work against Ayla’s spell.

“Behave yourself.”

Atrocious could barely make it out, but she thought she saw the outline of a strong, muscular woman holding her. The image shimmered and faded, leaving her caught up in the invisible woman’s grasp. “Why can’t I see you?”

“Because you’re not meant to,” the voice informed her. “Now go and sit down before I use you.”

“Before you use me?”

“It’s been a long time since I had pretty pussy like you.” There was unbridled lechery in the voice. Atrocious pulled free and took a step back and took stock of her situation. She now found herself stuck between an amorous witch and a rough talking invisible genie of some kind.

“Are you working for Ayla?”

The voice rumbled with dark laughter. “No I trade with Ayla, but I see she’s busy now.”

“What do you trade in?”

The voice came from behind Atrocious this time and a hand snaked around to cup between her legs. “Flesh.”

Having spent an extended period of time with Ayla, Atrocious had pretty much hit her limit of tolerance for being groped. Without any regard for the consequences, she lashed out at the invisible woman, pushing her away. “Leave me alone,” she growled.

“Fiesty,” the voice noted. “But you better settle down. Ayla won’t mind me trying the merchandise.”

“I’m not merchandise.”

“Oh but you are.”

“Well if I was,” Atrocious said, growing deeply irritated, “I wouldn’t be for sale to invisible cowards.”

“Call me a coward?” The voice was in front of her now and Atrocious stumbled backwards as the woman came into view properly. She’d removed a ring from her finger and in doing so blinked into real existence. She was very broad and tall for a woman, almost as tall as Ayla. Her long black hair was plaited and wound around her head and she had a vicious scar running across the bridge of her nose amidst a sea of freckles. She was wearing high quality reinforced leather armour and she looked big, and mean and mad.

“Are you…” Atrocious shook her head, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Are you a…”

“Spit it out,” the warrior prompted.

“Are you a Valkyrie?”

The warrior burst out laughing and slapped her knee. “You’re priceless. I wish I was a Valkyrie. No, I’m just your regular mercenary.”

“Huh,” Atrocious said, squinting at the woman suspiciously. “Well look, I’m actually not for sale, so I’m going to get going.”

She tried to step around the woman, but the warrior blocked her path easily. “Ayla hasn’t done a very good job training you,” she frowned. “She usually does better.”

“Ayla hasn’t been training me,” Atrocious sighed. “I’m not for sale.”

“You sure match the description, cute ass, smart mouth, pretty eyes.”

“So what, you came here to buy a sex slave?” Atrocious’ lip curled in disgust.

“I came here to get someone to carry my gear and do as she’s told.”

“Well then lady, even if I was for sale, I wouldn’t be what you’re looking for.”

“You just need to be broken in properly.” The warrior leered. “I’d probably enjoy that. A couple cuts of the cane and you’d lose that smart mouth of yours.”
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By the third day of her captivity Atrocious was beginning to grow desperate. Escape seemed to be almost impossible. Every time she thought she could sneak out the front door or test a window, Ayla prevented her escape. The witch showed no signs of intending to do Atrocious any harm, but a benign captor is still a captor and Atrocious wanted out of there.

She was sitting on the bed and beginning to despair of ever finding a means of escape when the front door opened and a young female murkblood simply walked in. Atrocious stared at the intruder, she had quite forgotten how simple it was for some people to just go through doorways as they pleased.

The staring served two purposes, for the murkblood was one of the most curious Atrocious had ever seen. Her features were distinctly human, but there was still something ‘other’ about her. Her eyes were brown and wide with large pupils that put Atrocious in mind of a startled cat. Her dark hair was cropped close to her head and though her features were pleasant enough, one tooth pushed its way out from her upper lip and rested atop the lower. It was less of a tooth than a fang, Atrocious considered, observing the length and pointedness.
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I’m not sure what it is about this series, but every time I come to write a scene between these two characters it seems to quickly devolve into tawdry intercourse. I do beg your pardon for sullying your screen in such a fashion.

Atrocious was beginning to worry. As Ayla’s fingers wove through her hair, she was forced to face the fact that she had been kidnapped by the witch, who seemed to have no intention at all of letting her go.

“I do not care for the effects of this spell,” Atrocious complained. She was unable to express herself in her traditionally forthright manner for Ayla’s magic still prevented her from speaking with anything but the utmost propriety.

“Would you care for a hot bottom instead?” Ayla made the inquiry gently as she ran her fingers through Atrocious’ hair, scratching her scalp lightly as she went.

Atrocious trembled with the pleasure that accompanied Ayla’s touch. “I would not,” she said.

“Then you should be thankful for the magical means that keep you out of trouble,” Ayla chided her gently.

“I should not be in trouble,” Atrocious pointed out. “If anyone should be in trouble, it should be you.”

“And how do you come to that conclusion?”

“I come to that conclusion by recognizing that you are holding me against my will.”

Ayla chuckled, a light, incongruous sound. “What makes you think that your will matters?”

Atrocious replied boldly in an attempt to assert herself. “What makes you think that it doesn’t?”

“Because I can do with you as I wish,” Ayla said. “You are a young woman alone in the forest. Any number of fates could have befallen you. As it happened, I was the fate your footsteps chose for you.”

“So you admit then, that you are a predator, no better than a bandit or a rat,” Atrocious replied heatedly. The spell was making her work harder to express her disdain, but it was not impossible to do so.

“Careful,” Ayla warned. “I will not hesitate to warm your bottom if you insist on displays of temper.”

Atrocious scowled. She was not pleased at all. Far from being even slightly ashamed of what she was doing, Ayla was openly taking her like a slave. The witch’s sense of entitlement was out of control.

Ayla seemed to sense Atrocious’ growing discontent, for she interrupted Atrocious’ train of thought with a threat. “If I have to discipline you again, you will not be a happy girl.”

“Why is that?”

“Because next time I will use a slipper made of reeds. It stings and welts with every single blow,” Ayla turned Atrocious around on the stool and smiled as if she rather enjoyed the idea. “You will be a very tearful and sorry young woman.”

Dismay was quickly growing in Atrocious’ mind. Her captor was beautiful and sometimes benevolent, but there was a chilling undercurrent of sadism that she was beginning to fear.

“Aw,” Ayla said, gently brushing a light kiss over Atrocious’ lips. “Don’t pout. Your sweet little behind was made to be punished.”
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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.
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