Vix sat down and began whittling, avoiding the chaos of conflict in the work of her fingers. Ayla had returned to the task of packing in her improbable fashion, putting everything into a little bag which did not grow any larger for the objects it contained. Liz was standing by indignant, her mouth moving without words, for it seemed she could not voice the full depths of her annoyance.

“You have struck me,” she finally said. “And so you must be struck back!”

Vix looked up just in time to see Liz dart forward and slap Ayla fiercely across her ample rear.

Ayla calmly put her bag down and turned to Liz, who seemed to have realized her error for she was already backing away. Unfortunately there was nowhere to back. She soon found herself pressed against a wall whilst before her, Ayla beckoned slowly.

The witch did not seem upset. If anything, she seemed amused, but it was not the sort of amusement which would bode well for Liz. It was the sort of amusement which would likely come to full fruition when Liz was squealing her apologies at the top of her lungs.

In all her days, Vix had never come across someone so determined to find trouble. How Liz had managed to survive Ariadne, Vix had no idea. The goddess was notoriously impatient with the disobedient. It was with a certain amount of envy that Vix watched the scene play out in front of her. Liz was rude and she was disobedient and in return she gained the attention of the beautiful witch.

Whittling harder, Vix returned to her labors. Her pockets were beginning to grow full of little bits and pieces, parts of what would one day be a larger whole. That was what really mattered, not the silly little games playing out before her.

There was a whacking sound, followed by a plaintive yelp. She supposed Liz was being thrashed, but she could not be bothered looking up to see. Neither Liz nor Ayla seemed to notice that she was still in the room. She had disappeared without the use of an invisibility potion.

As she whittled, the squealing and the smacking grew in intensity. It seemed that Liz was paying aplenty for her rudeness. A quick glance revealed that Liz’s bottom had been bared, and her naked cheeks were glowing red. Ayla had managed to wrangle Liz over her thighs and was wasting no time or energy in teaching a lesson. Every time her palm landed a fresh blaze of red bloomed on Liz’s bottom.

A little smile spread over Vix’s face. The attention Liz was getting didn’t look quite so fun now. It looked painful and very embarrassing. She could see every part of Liz’s privates, including the blondeish down covering her vulva and the winking sphincter of her bottom. Her jealousy faded as Liz’s cries turned plaintive.

“I loathe you!” Liz screamed the words at the top of her lungs.

Her loathing did not seem to do anything to dampen the effects of the witch’s palm. Ayla tightened her grip on the material at the scruff of Liz’s neck and spanked harder still, making her cheeks jiggle and wriggle with a hard, fast rhythm that sounded not unlike the beating of a clockwerk heart.

Liz lacked maturity, Vix mused to herself. She was yet to learn that when one was faced with bigger, stronger, more powerful people it was best to avoid their wrath. That was maturity, avoiding things and maintaining decorum whilst one did. It was very immature to yell precisely what one thought, to recklessly express oneself without carefully considering all the possible ramifications of one’s actions. Liz very much deserved the thrashing she was getting, Vix thought smugly to herself. It was a shame for a woman of Liz’s age not to have learned to meekly assent to the will of Ayla and those like her, the betters of the mere mortals of Lesbia.

“Stop it!” Liz demanded at the top of her lungs. “Stop it at once!”

“Do you really think shouting is going to make her stop?” Vix could hold her tongue no longer. “Why do you not try apologizing? This is in very bad taste.”

“If you have a bad taste in your mouth maybe you should remove your tongue from this witch’s rear,” Liz shot back. “You’re eating sh… owwwWW!”

Ayla slapped Liz soundly on her upper thigh before she could finish the thought but it was too late, the unpalatable image was already firmly embedded in Vix’s mind.