“Remove your clothing,” the witch commands. Orla does not obey. When she makes no motion to do as she is told, the witch snaps her fingers and a sudden heat flares over Orla’s body. Her clothes are ablaze, for one brief second they burn and then they are gone. She is left completely naked. Her powerful thighs, her round buttocks, the thickness of her belly slimming to a neat waist and above that her full breasts.

She seeks to cover herself, but Sabine will not allow that. She steps closer and brushes Orla’s hands away from her form.

“You can hide nothing from me,” she says, her eyes gleaming with lust. Orla feels an unfamiliar tremor in the very pit of her being. The witch’s body is intoxicating, her cleavage draws Orla’s eyes as it approaches, Sabine’s breasts finding their level just below Orla’s lips.

Her bottom burning, her lust inflamed in a way she cannot explain, Orla extends her tongue and takes Sabine’s left nipple between her lips. Sabine lets out a hiss and runs her hands over Orla’s back all the way down to the assassin’s buttocks, her nails brushing against the raised welts from the cane.

“This is punishment, remember?” Sabine purrs softly, slapping Orla’s heated cheek.

Orla has forgotten all notion of punishment. It matters not how much her bottom burns when it is her loins which flare much more brightly. She is consumed with lustful desire of the kind which leads even the wisest and most cautious of women to make mistakes.

“Lay back on the bed,” Sabine says. “Present yourself to me.”

Orla does not wish to obey, but her body does. She finds herself taking steps backwards until the bed meets her behind her knees and then, under Sabine’s gaze, she lays back, the pale curves of her body framed by dark satin.

“What now, witch? What will you do to me?”

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Every kingdom has its bad witch, but few have a witch like Sabine – she who calls the serpents, she who holds the souls of her servants in thrall with powerful charisma. Sabine is the ultimate authority before whom royals and peasants go to their knees. It goes without saying that a woman such as she has many enemies intent on her destruction. None of them are bold enough to face her themselves, but they are not above sending assassins one after the other. Each and every one of them has failed.

Until now. Orla Lorcan is not much to look at, but she is the best assassin in the land and great riches have been promised to her if she is able to defeat Sabine. Unlike the other assassins, Orla is able to penetrate Sabine’s defences and to face the bad witch herself. But getting to Sabine is only half the battle.

When confronted by Orla, Sabine is more amused than frightened. She imprisons the assassin and toys with her, using her wickedly sensual powers to bend Orla to her will. What began as an assault on Sabine’s life becomes a carnal battle for Orla’s eternal soul.

Orla’s resistance crumbles as Sabine imposes orgasm after orgasm upon her, alternately satisfying her and denying her the ultimate pleasure. But will Sabine conquer the spirited woman? Or will Orla somehow triumph where others have failed?