Lesbia Chronicles: Over Witch's Knee

by Ther Renard

  "You're not afraid, are you?"

  "I lost my fear a long time ago," Kira said. "And I would pay all the gold in Lesbia to have it back."

  Atrocious screwed up her face. "Why?"

  "When you lose fear, you lose attachment to the world and its things. When you lose the ability to fear, you lose the ability to love. You are left a ghost on the world, living in it, but not truly of it. It makes for an excellent warrior, but a poor person."

  "I think you're a very good person," Atrocious said.

  Kira smiled slightly. "When you and I met, I had just sold my previous companion. Forty pieces of gold I got for her. I was coming to Ayla to purchase another. And Ayla would surely have sold you to me, had it not been for the soldiers you bought to her door." Kira paused, her eyes solemn in the fading light. "Ayla and I are not good people, Atrocious. We have known too much pain, too much loss, too much death."

  "But... Ayla loves me."

  "She loves you as far as she is able to. But her love is a strange thing, is it not?"

  "She made love to Rogette in front of me as if it was nothing," Atrocious agreed.

  "Because it is nothing," Kira said. "When you are accustomed to taking love where you find it, you find it everywhere."

  Atrocious' eyes began to prickle with hot tears of hurt. "Why are you saying these things?"

  "I do not say this to hurt you," Kira said. "I say this so because you wanted to understand why we are all marching toward the jaws of death. There is nothing left in this world for Ayla and I. If we best this beast, we will have atoned for a portion of our sins. And if we are consumed, then the world will be a slightly better place."

  There was a moment's silence whilst Atrocious digested that statement. Then she growled. "That is the biggest load of self pitying bullshit I have ever heard."

  "It's the truth."

  "No it's not!" Atrocious sat up stiff, wagging her finger in Kira's face. "It's what you've told yourself so you can pretend you don't care. Well you do care. And you are afraid. You're so afraid you can't even allow yourself to feel it."

  Kira caught Atrocious' finger waggling hand and pressed a kiss to the tip of her disapproving digit.

  “For the sake of our souls, I hope you are right.”

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Atrocious was determined not to speak to Ayla when she returned to the cottage. She didn't want to speak to the witch, she didn't want to see the witch, she didn't even want to smell the witch. If she'd had it her way, she wouldn't have gone home at all. She would have stayed with Kira, but the warrior was working long into the night sharpening and tending weapons and she insisted Atrocious go to bed.

  When Atrocious let herself into the cottage it was well past midnight. She expected everyone to be asleep, but Ayla was still awake and working in the kitchen. She was stirring a cauldron hanging over the fire, her face a picture of perfect concentration as her lips moved rapidly, whispering an incantation. Her hair was tied up as usual, but after a long day over a hot cauldron there were several long strands hanging about her shoulders, over her ears and sticking to her temples. Her tall, statuesque figure was somewhat hunched as she worked, but still graceful in the flickering light.

  Atrocious averted her eyes as she walked in. She ignored Ayla's greeting and made her way toward the stairs. Her plan to shun Ayla worked for all of five strides. Before she could place her foot on the first stair, Ayla's large hands settled on her waist. The witch swung her around and lifted her to sit on the now empty kitchen table.

  "Augh! No! Disgusting!" Atrocious protested, trying to push off the table. "This is probably covered in Rogette juice."

  "Hush."

  Ayla said the word in a tone that indicated she expected to be obeyed. Releasing Atrocious' hips, the witch moved her hands to rest either side of Atrocious' body, leaning down so that they were eye to eye. Atrocious found herself caught with the full force of Ayla's gaze as the witch gave her a look that was beyond stern, so much so that it transcended strict and just fell shy of severe.

  "You are going to have to learn to contain your temper."

  Atrocious could only splutter in response. She'd at least expected an apology from Ayla. Instead she was getting a lecture.

  "Hold your tongue," Ayla said before Atrocious could voice the thoughts. "You didn't finish asking your questions earlier. You decided you didn't trust me and you threw a temper tantrum."

  "You fucked Rogette," Atrocious fired back. "You..."

  Ayla's eyes narrowed just a fraction. Atrocious fell silent.

  "I have failed," Ayla said. "I have failed to earn your trust. We cannot leave here until I have it."

  Biting her lower lip, Atrocious wasn't sure what Ayla meant. "We can't leave the table?"

  "No," Ayla smiled slightly. "We can't leave the village."

  "Fine by me," Atrocious said. "I've never wanted to leave anyway. I don't want to fight the sort of witch that scares Ariadne. I don't want to fight anyone."

  Ayla drew in a breath. "Is this where you want to live out the rest of your life? Are you comfortable with the rest of your life not being all that long?"

  "What do you mean?"

  Ayla stroked Atrocious' cheek softly. "I am sorry. But what is coming won't stop out there. It will consume every little bit of life it finds. And then, it will come here. And if we face it here, we will lose."

  "But why me?"

  "Why any of us?" Ayla shrugged.

  "You are a great witch. Kira is a great warrior. Thorberta is a great guardian. Rogette is a great sl..." Atrocious trailed off as Ayla's brow rose. "Well, anyway, I'm not a great anything."

  "You're a great brat," Ayla replied fondly. "And there is more besides, even if you don't see it as yet."

  Sighing, Atrocious leaned back, resting her palms behind her. "Are you going to have sex with Rogette again?"

  "That was not sex," Ayla said. "That was harvesting ingredients."

  "Oh, well, then maybe you won't mind if I 'harvest' half the village," Atrocious replied.

  "Careful," Ayla cautioned. "I will not tolerate disrespect."

  "Oh, it's not disrespect," Atrocious explained. "It's, uh, it's planting marigolds in July." She smirked at Ayla. "It's so easy to explain things away when you just call them something else."

  "Perhaps," Ayla replied with admirable patience. "But a switch across your bare behind will sting just the same whatever you care to call it."

  ~~~

  Whilst Atrocious and Ayla discussed the nuances of language, Kira was hard at work running a whetstone along the length of her favorite blade. It had once been a perfect sword, forged by the finest craftswoman in Lesbia, but time and use had introduced scratches and the occasional dent. Another warrior might have discarded the blade, but to Kira the sword was more than a weapon. Each nick and dent represented a moment of survival, a bond between warrior and weapon. Moonlight gleamed along the length of her soul sword and her muscular arms caught night shadows as she concentrated on the task at hand. All was quiet save the smooth sound of stone on steel. Until...

  "Leave it in the sheath," Kira murmured, apparently speaking to thin air.

  There was a soft snort and Rogette stepped into the light. "It would be beneath me to attack you."

  Kira glanced up under drawn brows, her dark eyes locking on Rogette's curvaceous form. "I give you fair warning, my patience is waning where you are concerned."

  "I have the might of Ariadne behind me," Rogette said. "I have borne her mark. It is the highest honor."

  Kira said nothing, but returned to working on her blade.

  "A higher honor than you could ever hope to achieve," Rogette added, putting her hands on her hips as she strutted back and forth in front of the warrior.

  Still Kira ignored Rogette.

  Rogette put her hand on the pommel of the dagger Ariadne had given her. The movement elicited a flicker of an eyebrow from Kira, but no comment. She pursed her lips, her expression becoming peevish. She was not
getting the reaction she wanted. That displeased her.

  In a moment of impulse, Rogette drew her blade. Later on she would protest that she just wanted to look at how shiny it was, but there was no time for explanation in the moments after steel departed the confines of leather and fur. The act set in motion a physical reaction so swift and violent that it beggared belief. One moment Rogette was standing, blade in hand. The next, both she and her blade were prone on the grass.

  Kira crouched atop the foolish robber, one hand securing her in place. In almost perfect silence broken only by the stress panting of her captive, she reached down and encircled Rogette's wrist.

  "Do you remember this?"

  She squeezed her thick, strong fingers around Rogette's forearm, making the thin scar stand out clear in the moonlight. Rogette whimpered, nodding her assent. She saw it. She was not eager to receive another like it.

  "You don't bear Ariadne's mark," Kira growled softly. "You bear mine.”

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  "Are you going to calm down and start behaving yourself?"

  "Are you going to stop fucking other people?"

  Ayla pushed back from the table and stood tall, crossing her arms over her chest as a wry smile played about her lips. "Are you asking for exclusivity, my pet?"

  "I'm not your pet," Atrocious glowered. "I'm your..." She didn't know how to finish the sentence. Words flew through her head, Rogette's snide slave uppermost among them. What was she to Ayla? "I'm not your pet," she repeated.

  "You are mine," Ayla said, providing the answer.

  "But you are not mine. You are anyone's you fancy."

  Ayla raised a brow. "You have not been entirely faithful yourself," she reminded Atrocious. "Or do you think I don't know you and Kira slept together?"

  "Kira is different!" Atrocious blushed.

  "Is she? Why?"

  "Because..." Atrocious frowned furiously as she tried to work out why Kira was different. "Because she's not Rogette, that's why."

  "So this is about your jealousy of Rogette, not any qualms about who I am intimate with."

  "Rogette takes everything. She gets everything," Atrocious whined.

  "Does she really get everything? Absolutely everything?"

  "Well not absolutely everything," Atrocious admitted. "But she gets more than me, always."

  "She gets different things, because you and she are not the same person. She is more often rewarded because she is more often compliant."

  "No she's not!" Atrocious squeaked the exclamation. "She's just more sexy. Stupid, sexy Rogette."

  Ayla shook her head, fine wisps of hair floating with the motion of long-suffering disapproval. "You and she are not rivals," the witch said. "There is plenty of affection for the both of you."

  No sooner had she spoken than the door to the cottage opened. Rogette and Kira entered together, the back of Rogette's leather suit caught in Kira's strong fist. The robber was squirming and cursing for all she was worth, her pretty face twisted into a mask of anger.

  "Unhand me, you scum sucking peasant!"

  "I will unhand you when I am done whipping your arrogant little hide," Kira replied.

  She would no doubt have made good on her promise, but Rogette's sounds of distress had triggered a dangerous reaction. The pile of dark rags that had been crumpled near the fire suddenly sprang into snarling life. Roused from sleep, Thorberta was instantly in kill mode, her eyes narrowed, her fangs bared as she hurled herself at Kira.

  Caught entirely by surprise, the warrior was forced to drop Rogette to deal with the far greater threat almost at her throat. In the split second before fangs connected with flesh, Kira dropped to one knee, letting Thorberta pass harmlessly overhead.

  Thorberta hit the ground on the other side of Kira, transforming the energy of her pounce into a forward roll. For a rotund young lady, she was incredibly agile. It seemed like only a second before she was back on her feet, ready for another attack.

  Caught facing the wrong way, back and neck exposed to the ire of the chimera, Kira was an easy target. She would surely have been severely wounded if not for Rogette, who scurried around to put herself between Kira and the slavering beast.

  "No!" Rogette said, her voice booming with rare authority as she held herself tall and straight, her chest out, her eyes flashing. "Bad!"

  Thorberta stopped dead. Her motion had been stilled, but the corner of her lip lifted as she snarled at Kira, who stood and turned, her hand on the pommel of her blade.

  "No!" Rogette repeated. "Don't you dare snarl at her."

  The snarl was replaced with a whimper as Rogette turned and pointed to the depths of the house. "Go lie down," she ordered, her eyes locked on the unfortunate beast as Thorberta slunk back and settled sheepishly at the very rear of the cottage.

  When Thorberta was safely settled, Rogette glanced up at Kira. "You're welcome, peasant," she said, smirking.

  Kira narrowed her eyes and looked quite furious, but did nothing. "You will keep, m'lady," she said in a low tone that promised dire consequences. "I will deal with the whelp first."

  "See?" Atrocious' whine broke the tense silence. "Rogette even gets a puppy."

  Chapter Thirty

  Rogette strutted through the cottage with a cocky gait, confident in the knowledge that Kira would not dare touch her after Thorberta's display of feral aggression. Atrocious watched her, grumbling under her breath about how it wasn't fair. Rogette had somehow managed to avoid a spanking from Kira of all people. If Kira couldn't punish Rogette when she needed it, then who could?

  The answer came much sooner than Atrocious expected. As Rogette passed by Ayla, the witch's fingers clasped firmly on the robber's lobe.

  "Time for a spanking," the witch said. "A very sound one at that."

  "What? No!" Rogette tried to protest, but it was too late. Ayla was already pulling out a kitchen chair.

  "I am tired of your disrespect, young lady," Ayla said firmly. "You have been treated with kindness and responded with nothing but attitude. It is not acceptable."

  As Atrocious watched with undisguised glee, Ayla sat down, turned Rogette over her lap and began spanking the robber. If Rogette wanted to fight back, she didn't. She seemed altogether shocked by the discipline she was receiving by Ayla's hand, so much so that she was almost limp - at least until the sting began to settle in. Then she began to whimper and whine, not that it did her any good.

  Given the chimera's recent outburst, the witch might have done well to be concerned about her reaction, but Thorberta did not so much as make a whisper of a noise. She sat up and watched with keen interest as Ayla peeled down Rogette's britches and began spanking her bare round bottom with supreme gusto. Framed by the leather caught under the curve of her cheeks, her bottom became the focal point for every eye in the room. Two round globes quickly became pink as Ayla's large witchly hand landed over and over again.

  "You are a very, very naughty girl," Ayla lectured, her tone maternal as she paid special attention to the sitting regions of Rogette's behind. They soon turned a deeper red, but the witch did not seem to be satisfied with the effect. She reached out and took a wooden spoon from the table and applied the flat of it to Rogette's bottom. The effect was instantaneous, a nice red mark dead center of the uppity madam's left cheek and a squealed plea for clemency.

  The plea went unheeded. Wrapping her arm more firmly around Rogette's waist, Ayla lifted her thigh, putting Rogette's bottom at an even more spankable angle. She then proceeded to discipline Rogette with a great deal of ardor, very thoroughly laying the implement across Rogette's deserving cheeks until they were so red they almost glowed.

  "I'm sorry!" Rogette squalled. "Please!"

  Ayla made no response, aside from pushing the leather britches down further, exposing the very bottom curve of Rogette's cheeks. When she began to spank the robber there a squalling was set up that almost made Atrocious feel sorry for her.

  Almost.

  Trapped across the witch's l
ap, Rogette was given no choice but to take her spanking. She clearly found the experience deeply unpleasant, and with the vigorous application of the spoon she became quite agitated. She vented her displeasure in the form of inventive curses, creating words that had Thorberta's head cocking to to the side with such frequency she looked like a clockwork toy.

  Though it was running long, the punishment did not seem to lose any of its allure for the onlookers. Kira folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the wall, a slight smirk on her lips as she watched Rogette get her comeuppance.

  Rogette's desperation was growing, as evinced by the high pitched shrieking, squealing and squirming she was doing. She kicked and wriggled, she bucked and thrashed, but she could not get free. In a last ditch effort, she played the one card she had left – Ariadne's dagger.

  Ayla had clearly not thought to disarm the robber when she partially disrobed her, likely because only a fool would draw a physical weapon against a witch. Rogette was not a fool, but she was desperate. After a particularly stinging volley directed across the center of her bare bottom, she reached down, drew the blade from the scabbard hanging near her thigh and raised it as high in the air as she could. It was clearly a threat rather than an attempt to harm, but that made it no less unforgivable.

  Atrocious' gasp of shock as the silver blade rent the air was matched by Kira's protective movement towards the witch. Neither of them need have worried. Ayla simply grasped the wrist holding the dagger and used Rogette's flailing momentum to flip her over onto her back.

  Trapped across the witch's lap, Rogette's eyes went wide with fear as she looked up into Ayla's stern face. Ayla was not entirely human, everybody knew that. But her elvishness often faded into the background, like decoration, something to be admired, but not overly considered. However there were some moments when her elf nature came very much to the fore. As she looked down at her squirming captive, she looked very... other.