Lesbia Chronicles: Over Witch's Knee

by Ther Renard

  "Hey," Kira said, cuffing her lightly over the head.

  "Ow, what?" Atrocious looked up into the warrior's strong face. "What did I do?"

  "It's going to be alright."

  "You don't know that."

  "It's going to be alright." Kira repeated herself, her hand going to the pommel of her sword. Atrocious picked up on what she was really saying. It was going to be alright because Kira was going to make it alright. No matter what.

  Smiling a weak smile, Atrocious nodded. "Thank you."

  She did not know what she'd done to earn Kira's loyalty, but she was glad she had it. As gratitude spread through her, so did something else, a tingle, the memory of how Rogette and Kira had looked entangled together. Atrocious bit her lip and blushed. Was it possible to be aroused out of thankfulness? Or was she developing a taste for the sort of woman for whom limits and laws could be scythed through with a strong arm and tempered blade? Either way, she found herself looking forward to the coming of the dusk where they would surely have to make camp and then perhaps she could demonstrate her gratitude not just in words, but in a more tangible way.

  Sure enough, the sun soon began to set. The moment the golden orb dipped to the horizon, the soldiers broke to make camp with an efficiency that left Atrocious quite stunned. In mere minutes they had cleared brush, gathered firewood, pitched tents, started fires and were boiling water. There was a beautiful synchronicity to the way they worked, like ants in an ant hill. Or was it ant hole? She tried to think but she couldn't quite remember. Both ways made sense, ants did sort of make little hills, but it was the holes in the hill that were the important parts.

  Mercutio took it upon himself to pitch Kira's tent personally. The young soldier had followed at their heels with all the loyalty of a puppy and when the last stake was hammered into the ground, he positively shone at Kira's word of thanks.

  Kira and Atrocious retired for the evening shortly afterward. It was a small tent and they sat cross-legged on opposite sides, Atrocious nervously looking at Kira, bubbling with energy that could not be expressed in any graceful way. She opened her mouth to speak and was surprised by the words that came out.

  "I'm scared."

  "It is too late to be scared," Kira replied cryptically. "The die is already cast and what will be already is. You can taste it, can't you?"

  Atrocious shook her head. Kira's words sort of tickled her brain in a way that let her know there was some kind of sense in them, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

  Kira smiled slightly. "They say a warrior at the peak of her powers can see into the future. She sees her opponent's moves before they are made. She wins the battle before drawing her sword."

  "So you're telling me you already know what the outcome of all this is?"

  "I'm telling you that there is no need to worry."

  Atrocious studied Kira's face. There was little light in the tent, but what light there was made her appear quite otherworldly. She had shed her usual armor and was wearing little more than a vest, the shadows played about the musculature of her arms, occasionally highlighting a scar - evidence of a time where her prescience had obviously failed.

  "You doubt me."

  "I... I don't know," Atrocious replied. "I don't know anything anymore."

  A hand slid across her thigh and squeezed comfortingly. "Do you at least trust my ability with a blade?"

  Atrocious nodded as a shiver zipped through her body. Kira's hand was large and strong, positioned on her tender thigh it made a heat travel to her nether regions.

  "Yes," she said, her voice husky with near instant arousal.

  For a time there was little said. Kira left her hand where it was, a touch that was both possessive and comforting. Atrocious barely dared move, lest Kira likewise moved and the touch was lost. Finally an order floated out of the shadows.

  "Lay back."

  In a rare moment of obedience, Atrocious laid down, resting her head on a bedroll. Her tunic rode up, just barely covering her privates as Kira's hand began to move in a slow seduction. She moved her fingers up the inside of Atrocious' thigh, coming ever so close to the needy apex.

  "Please..." The moan was drawn from Atrocious' lips, a cry of pure desire as her arousal spiraled about under her skin, her flesh becoming heated and moist of its own accord.

  "Please what?" Kira crouched above Atrocious' slender prone body. "What do you want from me?"

  "Touch me..."

  "I am touching you."

  "Touch me there..."

  A low chuckle, then finally, the lightest touch, a brushing sensation against Atrocious' downy netherlips. She lifted her hips towards the stimulation, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. She made a strangled sound of frustration.

  "More..."

  "Greedy little thief," Kira chided in the black depths of the tent, her voice and touch weaving a spell to match any Ayla could cast.

  Atrocious laid in place as the warrior's hand slipped up under her tunic and, avoiding the seat of her erogenous need, moved up along the line of her stomach in a caress that almost reached her breasts. It was a slow massaging movement, part of the continued erotic teasing. Kira's callused palm slid down again. This time she ran the heel of her hand right down the slit of Atrocious' lips with a light pressure that elicited another breathless moan.

  "Aren't you just the receptive one," Kira purred, a pleased note in her voice. "A few quick touches and you're ready to be mounted..." she leaned forward, her lips close to Atrocious' ear as her fingers lightly toyed across the surface of Atrocious' pussy, not parting or penetrating, just teasing "... and ridden hard.”

  Atrocious arched her hips and wished fervently for more of Kira's commanding sexual touch, but it was not to be, for at that very moment there was a sudden and completely unwelcome commotion in the bushes outside their tent. Kira was gone in an instant, leaving Atrocious laying there with her legs spread, her loins aglow with need. There was a brief scuffle, then a high pitched yelp.

  "What is the meaning of this?" Kira's growl was clear in the night.

  "Er... I was... coming to see if you needed anything." Merc's timid tones floated through the thin fiber of the tent wall. Atrocious groaned and palmed her face. At this rate she was never going to get laid.

  A loud smacking sound and another yelp was followed by a terse, "Get out of here."

  "Sorry!" Merc's squeaked apology retreated into the night.

  A moment later Kira was back, muttering direly under her breath. "Damn boy."

  "He's in love with you," Atrocious teased.

  "Can you blame him?"

  Atrocious didn't need to see Kira's smirk. "Who is he anyway?"

  "A prince. One of the younger ones would be my guess. I lose track." Kira went to her knees and groped about the tent, looking for Atrocious. She found an arm and caressed it lightly before taking a firm hold.

  Atrocious was more concerned with the revelation than Kira's grip. "He's a prince - and you hit him?"

  "There are princes everywhere these days," Kira replied. "Can't swing a sword without hitting one."

  Atrocious wondered at what Kira's life must have been like for her to have such a cavalier attitude towards royal personages. The only time Atrocious had ever met anyone noble was when one of the duchesses had passed through her village and even then she hadn't really seen much aside from some pretty brocade, for tradition demanded that all peasants lie face down in the presence of nobility. She said as much to Kira, who snorted.

  "You can assume that position if you like," she said, grasping Atrocious by the shoulder and flipping her face down. "It suits my purposes."

  As her tunic slid up over her hips once more, Atrocious was glad to discover that Kira had not lost her ardor in the interruption. The heat still pulsed between Atrocious' thighs and when the warrior lowered her head and licked slowly along the outer lips of her most secret and sacred places she moaned quite audibly, forgetting just how thin the walls of the tent were.
r />   Kira's mouth was as talented as the rest of her body. Atrocious was soon gasping and shuddering with growing arousal as a soft, warm tongue played about her folds, teasing her into a wickedly wanton state in which the world faded away as her clit became the center of everything, the entire universe pulsing under Kira's ministrations.

  Chapter Nine

  "Come," Ayla said, gathering her things and nudging Rogette awake. "We don't have much time."

  Rogette roused slowly, rubbing her eyes blearily. "What time is it? Where are we going?"

  Ayla's fine features were drawn with concern. She had spent the intervening hours since the departure of the Imperial group staring into a pot of what had seemed to Rogette to be little more than water and leaves. It had been as scintillating as watching mud dry, hence her fall into sleep.

  "We are going to go after Kira and Atrocious." "They may be heading into a trap."

  "Oh." Rogette nodded. "I reckon they definitely are," she said with all the certainty of someone who is stating the obvious whilst simultaneously having no idea what she is talking about.

  Walking in the light of the moon, Ayla and Rogette picked their way along the thin mountain path. They made quite a striking pair, Ayla's tall but curved silhouette thrown long on the road whilst the smaller and much more scantily dressed Rogette scampered back and forth for a time, scaling trees to look ahead then tumbling out of branches to land with lithe grace. She looked very much like a wood sprite, an elemental part of the forest not at odds with the world she found herself in, but part of it. After a while she satisfied herself that the forests were clear of brigands and such and settled to walk next to Ayla. She was heavily silent, which prompted Ayla to ask after her thoughts.

  "You don't think they're..." Rogette waggled her eyebrows suggestively and twirled a piece of braided, beaded hair about her finger.

  "Being intimate? It would not surprise me," Ayla said with a small smirk of amusement.

  "Why's that?" Rogette kept the question casual. Perhaps a little too casual.

  "Atrocious... happened across my path," Ayla said, skimming over much of the truth of how they had met. "Around the same time that Kira was looking for a new girl. I sent word to Kira that I might have someone after her tastes. Kira laid but an eye on Atrocious and she's been with her ever since, protecting her against every bandit and soldier that's crossed her path," Ayla's eyes twinkled. "Don't let the growling and lecturing fool you, Kira is quite enamored of Miss Atrocious."

  "Oh." Rogette's face fell.

  "I'm sorry," Ayla said, realizing all too late that feelings had been hurt. "Are you..."

  "No," Rogette said, lifting her chin and smiling a jaunty smile that ended somewhere near her nose, getting nowhere near her eyes at all. "I like to play the field, so it's good really. I hope they are getting it on. Maybe it will improve both their moods. They're so crabby all the time, all blarrghh..." She screwed her face up and made a clawing motion with her hands.

  Ayla smiled gently. "Is that so."

  "Oh yeah," Rogette said. "Pains in the ass both of them."

  "Mhm," Ayla murmured.

  Pain in the ass was only the beginning of Rogette's character diagnosis, cum assassination. Over the next three hours Ayla was treated to an explicit breakdown of every single one of Atrocious and Kira's character flaws, along with assumptions and speculation about the source of their issues.

  "I don't think Atrocious is even a thief," Rogette said snidely. "She has almost no life skills. She's just a little peasant brat willing to spread her legs for anything with a blade or a staff."

  "And yet here you are, coming to help save her," Ayla noted.

  "Well it's not like I want her dead," Rogette snorted, tossing her head. "I mean I know I just met you all but..."

  Not a word of inquiry had been made up until that point as to Rogette's reasons for leaping around inn roofs apparently on her own. None of the women were inclined to pry too deeply into the circumstances of those they met, those with secrets to keep tended to respect the secrets of others.

  "You have become a member of our little band," Ayla said, reaching out and patting Rogette's shoulder reassuringly. "And we protect our own."

  "Exactly," Rogette's eyes glittered bright in the moonlight. She quickly swiped at them with the back of her sleeve. “Excuse me,” she said. “I need to, er, I need to see what's in that tree.”

  She scampered off, trying to hide her emotions. It did not work. Her gait was full of glee, and though she was but a shadow amongst shadows, in Ayla's eyes, she glowed with joy.

  Chapter Ten

  A three day march brought Atrocious, Kira and their guard to the fortress outside of Kavden. The fortress was old, older than Kavden itself. The huge stones that described the perimeter were eight feet tall and four feet thick. Each one was inscribed with carvings from the very old ones. A thick wall of wooden trunks, each one sharped to a devastating point, was built atop the stones, lashed in place with thick braided rope coated with oil to prevent rot. The wood was relatively new, but the stones were almost older than time itself. Atrocious found her gaze drawn inexorably to the complex carvings laced across the rock. There was something about the carvings. They drew the eye. It was as if they wanted to be looked at, as if they wanted to be understood. It occurred to her that maybe they were not so much decorations as the writings of a language, though not one Atrocious could read or speak.

  “Those look like your tattoos,” Atrocious pointed out as they drew closer.

  “They do,” Kira agreed. “Though they are not tattoos.”

  “They're not?”

  “They're marks.”

  “Marks of what?”

  Kira did not answer the question. She acted as if she had not heard it at all.

  “Marks of what?” Atrocious repeated herself.

  “Marks of something you will be lucky never to hear of,” Kira said. “So I will not speak of it.”

  Atrocious screwed her face up. That was no answer at all.

  There was no time to query Kira. They were about to go through the great arch and into the fortress proper. Atrocious was hesitant to cross the threshold, but Kira tugged her onward and the guards were behind her, hemming her in to the very end.

  There was a lot of shouting going on in the camp, but it was an ordered shouting that kept columns of Imperials moving in precise order as they thrust pointed spears towards straw dummies lashed to poles in a training exercise that did not do anything for Atrocious' peace of mind. She felt like one of the dummies. Even with Kira by her side, it was obvious that they were far outnumbered and now that the fortress gates had been closed behind them they weren't going anywhere until the Imperials decided to let them go. Which could be never. Would probably be never. She felt dizziness sweeping over her as she took quick panicky breaths.

  She wanted to run away. She wanted to run more than she wanted anything else. Every instinct she had, every fiber in her body was telling her to flee. The warrior seemed to sense it. Before Atrocious took so much as a step, Kira looped an arm around her neck and pulled her close.

  “Not so fast," Kira murmured under her breath. "Keep it together."

  Before Atrocious could erupt into full blown panic, a large barrel chested man with a fire red beard came forward. He was fearsomely intimidating with his large skull-crushing hands and a plethora of shining weaponry strapped all over his body.

  "Where is the prisoner?"

  "Step forward, prisoner!" Captain Sylvie rapped the order out. Atrocious was nudged forward.

  The big man took a look at her, leaning down and peering out under big bushy red brows before straightening and casting a dire look at Sylvie. "I said prisoner, not wench. Why have you bought me this scrap of a woman?"

  "I am not a wench!" Atrocious tried to defend herself, but Kira reached out and wrapped a hand over her mouth before she could say any more.

  "This is Atrocious. She claims that the accusations were false, General Nelson," Sylvie in
formed her superior. "She wishes to face her accuser."

  "Hmph," General Nelson snorted. "Where the blasted hell is Jacey?"

  Jacey was sent for, but not forthcoming. It seemed that the guard had made herself scarce. Atrocious and the guards who had bought her in stood around for what seemed to be a very long time during which every corner of the place was scoured and Guard Jacey was nowhere to be found. Atrocious was somewhat glad for the fact. She had not wanted to see the haughty Imperial again, even with an armed escort at her side.

  General Nelson eventually turned to Atrocious. "Have you murdered her too?" Atrocious went wide eyed at the accusation, but before she was required to defend herself, he laughed. "Calm yourself, wench."

  "He keeps calling me that," Atrocious muttered to Kira.

  "Keep your lips sealed and your head held high," Kira replied. "This is not the time for one of your scenes."

  "I don't make scenes."

  "You do."

  "I do not!" Atrocious stamped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. "You think the worst of me, that is all."

  A few heads turned towards the pair and Kira's gaze turned serious as she glowered down at Atrocious. "Stop. Now."

  "So she has a temper," General Nelson observed. "A murderous temper, perhaps?"

  "She has the temper of a squalling service wench, not a murderer," Kira replied, drawing a booming laugh from General Nelson.

  "The next person to call me a wench is going to regret it," Atrocious promised in her most fearsome and intimidating voice. For reasons she did not understand her threat provoked more laughter - not just from Kira and General Nelson, but also from the soldiers they had been traveling with. Surrounded by sniggers and snorts, Atrocious whirled about, her expression fierce. "What are you all laughing about?"

  "Oh Kira! Kira! Kiraaa!"

  Somewhere in the back of the gathered guards, someone did a passable impression of her voice in the throes of passion. Atrocious turned a bright red hue and hid her face in her hands as laughter boomed out all around her. She had been fearing death at the hands of the Imperials, but the merriment and mockery was very possibly worse.