The long arm of the law

There was something of a scrum for Kinki's attention after that. Most of the male stallholders… and several general onlookers… rushed over to try and offer something for a ‘go at the goods’. The witch was offered whole fish, loaves of bread, jewellery. One man even took the silver watch from his wrist and tried to strap it onto hers.

Kinki just chuckled to herself at the glut of attention, biting into the supple flesh of her peach. Once they worked out that she didn't really mind them just copping a feel of whatever they wanted, without needing to offer anything in exchange… she elected to just let them tire themselves out with it. Having lived away from ‘civilisation’ for so long, she was half-curious just how far they'd go if given nothing in the way of guidance or boundaries. It was hilarious to listen to them squabble amongst themselves and end up forming something of an orderly queue: allocating each other a certain amount of time playing with her body, one after another.

Meanwhile, beyond the obviously enthusiastic; a second circle was forming. This one comprised of those huffers and tutters who wanted to make it absolutely clear that they disapproved of everything going on here… but still wanted to get as good a view of it as possible. Decent, genteel folk who simply wouldn’t stand for this sort of thing but also couldn’t let Ethel from across the street say she’d been closer to the action. Of course, no-one was actually going to step in and do anything about the situation, until a harried looking young man in a smart uniform hurried up: clearly still trying to make heads or tails of just what he was being called over to.

“Make way! Make way! Yes Madam… obviously I’m going to deal with it, but I’ve got to get there first… What’s going on here? Jesus Christ, Graham… get your finger out of there! You’re in the middle of the bloody street man!”

The officer finally managed to fight his way through the throng, having to bodily shove back a couple of those who hadn’t yet got their turn and were clearly unhappy about it. When at last he’d persuaded the aforementioned ‘Graham’ to remove his digits from inside Kinki, he turned to the witch herself… Unable, quite, to keep his own eyes from wandering as he did so.

“Where are your clothes, Miss?!”

“I don’t own any.” She shrugged, still a paragon of relaxed confidence.

“You don’t… What, none? At all?!”

“Nope.” Kinki smiled, apologetically. “I suppose I had some when I joined the coven… but that was three years ago and I haven’t really bothered since.”

“Three years ago…” Repeated the young man in stumbling hesitancy, clearly unable to quite register that admission with his world view. If people were indecently exposed, you just told them to put their bloody clothes back on.

“Well look… You can't just go around like that… or let people touch you up in full view of the town. I-I'm gonna have to ask you to come down to the station.”

“Okey-doke.” Was the carefree reply, along with an offered pair of slender wrists.