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Angela and the Witch House (R.G. Bargy)


Angela and the Witch House by R.G. Bargy

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It was called the Witch House because it was supposedly previously owned by a witch, in fact a whole line of witches. Rumour had it that she still haunted the place. No one had wanted it until Angela found it by chance. Young and free she did not believe in ghosts, but soon people noticed a change in her. She was now vibrant and motivated, yet secretive.

A story of self-discovery and sexual excesses within the murky world of bondage for pleasure. Angela discovers an unknown heritage and an unlikely knew common interest with a very old friend. It would change her life forever.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Burping Frog Publishing    Published: 11 / 2017

We do not recommend this book for readers under 18 years of age

No. words: 43000

Style: BDSM/Bondage - Content: Moderate - Classed as: Consensual -    Bondage/BDSM and Romance, Sex Slavery / Training

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

Current all-time sales ranking: #3929


Excerpt..

Angela and the Witch House excerpt
by R.G. Bargy

It was called the Witch’s House and had the looks to match. Rumour had it that a long line of witches had lived there, or maybe it was just one, but now it stood empty. No one wanted it. The price really was steal and Angela had not believed her luck. She had been desperate to move out of her parent’s house but, despite a good job and a higher than average income it was almost impossible to get a foot onto the property ladder, especially so close to central Birmingham. It was almost as if the house had called to her. She had never been in this area before and only chance, or so she thought, had taken her along this quiet back street. She had seen the for sale board, almost camouflaged by the huge Oak tree by the gate. Why she had even bothered to find out more beggared belief. The estate agent had virtually begged her to take it. Even more amazing was that she could actually afford it, just.

Her parents had not believed it either.

“What do you need such a big house for? You will rattle around in it and it will cost a fortune to keep.” Her mother had complained.

“It’s not that big, only three bedrooms, kitchen, dining room and lounge.” she had answered defensively. “I am sure I can pick up some furniture from the charity shop and besides it is virtually furnished with stuff left behind by the previous owner.”

“That’s not what I meant. Why do you need to move out at all?”

“Oh mother! I can’t live here for the rest of my life, but I will come and see you and maybe scrounge the odd Sunday lunch or something.”
“That’s settled then, I will expect you for Sunday lunch.”

Angela had looked pleadingly at her father but to no avail.

“I suppose you will need me to decorate,” he had said.

“Actually it doesn’t look too bad. A little dusty, but nothing that a good spring clean will not sort.”

They had insisted on helping her move in and roped in a few friends and neighbours to scrub it up. Then, with some generous donations and a few smart buys she had got the place looking presentable. She then threw a house warming party for all and sundry which meant another day’s cleaning but eventually she was able to shut the front door, make a coffee and put her feet up in her own lounge. And it felt good,

Angela was 23. She was average height and build, not too fat or thin and presentable attributes. Her hair was a natural blond which she kept around shoulder length. Her single status was as much due to her taste in men as it was her desirability. She was strong minded yet secretly desired to be dominated, but as yet, no one had managed to penetrate her bravado and assertiveness. She had known John since childhood and everybody had already married them off, but neither he nor she had got passed the talking stage. They enjoyed each other’s company but more like brother and sister than lovers. She was not a virgin, but that was more due to teenage naivety than serious dating. The whole episode had been both clumsy and painful and not in the least like something she wanted to repeat. She had got to know herself though, and her friendly vibrator was in the bedside cabinet upstairs waiting for her.

She relaxed, her eyes wandering around the unfamiliar lounge when a glimpse of light caught her eye. A light where there should not be one. It was coming from a crack in the paneling. She put her cup down and went for a closer look. Without warning the panel opened. There was a room with what appeared to be a bare light bulb. Her first reaction was to turn and run but curiosity got the better of her.

“Angela.”

It was almost inaudible. Definitely female. Soft, and almost enticingly gentle.

“Who’s there?”

“Angela.”

“Who are you?”

“Come in, and I will show you.”

That sounded like a trap if ever there was one. A door she did not open might well shut on its own as well.

“Show yourself,” she demanded

“That is not how it works,” came the unhelpful reply.

“Why should I trust you?”

“You bought the house didn’t you?”

She took a step closer. The room looked bare with a simple table in the middle. On it was something that looked familiar. She took a step closer. Surely not!

“Yes it is” the voice said.

“I hadn’t said anything. How do you know what I was thinking?”

“I knew your name?”

“Who are you?” It was more of a plea now than a demand.

“Look on the wall.”

There was a picture. She had not seen it. Maybe it had not been there? It was of a woman. She was comely in a medieval sort of way. Her eyes were bright but her clothes were dowdy. The hat said witch.

“I am the spirit of this house. I have no form but this house does my bidding. I can move things, create things, change things even stop time itself.”

“Are you trying to drive me away?”

“On the contrary. I hope that you will stay for a very long time.”

“So you do not intend to harm me?”

“Not in the way you might think. I cannot do you permanent damage and that includes death, but I can give the illusion of pain and it will seem very real. More important though, I can give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.”

“There must be a catch.”

“Only this. You must tell no one of me, without my permission,” she added, almost as if it was an afterthought.

“I am not sure anyone would believe me even if I did.”

“Do not be tempted to try.”

She walked up to the table. It was definitely her vibrator, or a very good facsimile. It even had the small chip in the battery cover where she had knocked it in her rush to hide it from her mother.

“Now go and enjoy yourself. When you are ready, present yourself in front of the panel, naked. And be prepared to do whatever I ask of you.”


Excerpt..

Angela and the Witch House excerpt

by R.G. Bargy



It was called the Witch’s House and had the looks to match. Rumour had it that a long line of witches had lived there, or maybe it was just
one, but now it stood empty. No one wanted it. The price really was steal and Angela had not believed her luck. She had been desperate to
move out of her parent’s house but, despite a good job and a higher than average income it was almost impossible to get a foot onto the
property ladder, especially so close to central Birmingham. It was almost as if the house had called to her. She had never been in this
area before and only chance, or so she thought, had taken her along this quiet back street. She had seen the for sale board, almost
camouflaged by the huge Oak tree by the gate. Why she had even bothered to find out more beggared belief. The estate agent had virtually
begged her to take it. Even more amazing was that she could actually afford it, just.



Her parents had not believed it either.



“What do you need such a big house for? You will rattle around in it and it will cost a fortune to keep.” Her mother had complained.



“It’s not that big, only three bedrooms, kitchen, dining room and lounge.” she had answered defensively. “I am sure I can pick up some
furniture from the charity shop and besides it is virtually furnished with stuff left behind by the previous owner.”



“That’s not what I meant. Why do you need to move out at all?”



“Oh mother! I can’t live here for the rest of my life, but I will come and see you and maybe scrounge the odd Sunday lunch or
something.”

“That’s settled then, I will expect you for Sunday lunch.”



Angela had looked pleadingly at her father but to no avail.



“I suppose you will need me to decorate,” he had said.



“Actually it doesn’t look too bad. A little dusty, but nothing that a good spring clean will not sort.”



They had insisted on helping her move in and roped in a few friends and neighbours to scrub it up. Then, with some generous donations and a
few smart buys she had got the place looking presentable. She then threw a house warming party for all and sundry which meant another day’s
cleaning but eventually she was able to shut the front door, make a coffee and put her feet up in her own lounge. And it felt good,



Angela was 23. She was average height and build, not too fat or thin and presentable attributes. Her hair was a natural blond which she
kept around shoulder length. Her single status was as much due to her taste in men as it was her desirability. She was strong minded yet
secretly desired to be dominated, but as yet, no one had managed to penetrate her bravado and assertiveness. She had known John since
childhood and everybody had already married them off, but neither he nor she had got passed the talking stage. They enjoyed each other’s
company but more like brother and sister than lovers. She was not a virgin, but that was more due to teenage naivety than serious dating.
The whole episode had been both clumsy and painful and not in the least like something she wanted to repeat. She had got to know herself
though, and her friendly vibrator was in the bedside cabinet upstairs waiting for her.



She relaxed, her eyes wandering around the unfamiliar lounge when a glimpse of light caught her eye. A light where there should not be one.
It was coming from a crack in the paneling. She put her cup down and went for a closer look. Without warning the panel opened. There was
a room with what appeared to be a bare light bulb. Her first reaction was to turn and run but curiosity got the better of her.



“Angela.”



It was almost inaudible. Definitely female. Soft, and almost enticingly gentle.



“Who’s there?”



“Angela.”



“Who are you?”



“Come in, and I will show you.”



That sounded like a trap if ever there was one. A door she did not open might well shut on its own as well.



“Show yourself,” she demanded



“That is not how it works,” came the unhelpful reply.



“Why should I trust you?”



“You bought the house didn’t you?”



She took a step closer. The room looked bare with a simple table in the middle. On it was something that looked familiar. She took a step
closer. Surely not!



“Yes it is” the voice said.



“I hadn’t said anything. How do you know what I was thinking?”



“I knew your name?”



“Who are you?” It was more of a plea now than a demand.



“Look on the wall.”



There was a picture. She had not seen it. Maybe it had not been there? It was of a woman. She was comely in a medieval sort of way. Her
eyes were bright but her clothes were dowdy. The hat said witch.



“I am the spirit of this house. I have no form but this house does my bidding. I can move things, create things, change things even stop
time itself.”



“Are you trying to drive me away?”



“On the contrary. I hope that you will stay for a very long time.”



“So you do not intend to harm me?”



“Not in the way you might think. I cannot do you permanent damage and that includes death, but I can give the illusion of pain and it will
seem very real. More important though, I can give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.”



“There must be a catch.”



“Only this. You must tell no one of me, without my permission,” she added, almost as if it was an afterthought.



“I am not sure anyone would believe me even if I did.”



“Do not be tempted to try.”



She walked up to the table. It was definitely her vibrator, or a very good facsimile. It even had the small chip in the battery cover
where she had knocked it in her rush to hide it from her mother.



“Now go and enjoy yourself. When you are ready, present yourself in front of the panel, naked. And be prepared to do whatever I ask of
you.”


Excerpt..

Angela and the Witch House excerpt


by R.G. Bargy





It was called the Witch’s House and had the looks to match. Rumour had it that a long line of witches had lived there, or maybe it was just

one, but now it stood empty. No one wanted it. The price really was steal and Angela had not believed her luck. She had been desperate to

move out of her parent’s house but, despite a good job and a higher than average income it was almost impossible to get a foot onto the

property ladder, especially so close to central Birmingham. It was almost as if the house had called to her. She had never been in this

area before and only chance, or so she thought, had taken her along this quiet back street. She had seen the for sale board, almost

camouflaged by the huge Oak tree by the gate. Why she had even bothered to find out more beggared belief. The estate agent had virtually

begged her to take it. Even more amazing was that she could actually afford it, just.





Her parents had not believed it either.





“What do you need such a big house for? You will rattle around in it and it will cost a fortune to keep.” Her mother had complained.





“It’s not that big, only three bedrooms, kitchen, dining room and lounge.” she had answered defensively. “I am sure I can pick up some

furniture from the charity shop and besides it is virtually furnished with stuff left behind by the previous owner.”





“That’s not what I meant. Why do you need to move out at all?”





“Oh mother! I can’t live here for the rest of my life, but I will come and see you and maybe scrounge the odd Sunday lunch or

something.”


“That’s settled then, I will expect you for Sunday lunch.”





Angela had looked pleadingly at her father but to no avail.





“I suppose you will need me to decorate,” he had said.





“Actually it doesn’t look too bad. A little dusty, but nothing that a good spring clean will not sort.”





They had insisted on helping her move in and roped in a few friends and neighbours to scrub it up. Then, with some generous donations and a

few smart buys she had got the place looking presentable. She then threw a house warming party for all and sundry which meant another day’s

cleaning but eventually she was able to shut the front door, make a coffee and put her feet up in her own lounge. And it felt good,





Angela was 23. She was average height and build, not too fat or thin and presentable attributes. Her hair was a natural blond which she

kept around shoulder length. Her single status was as much due to her taste in men as it was her desirability. She was strong minded yet

secretly desired to be dominated, but as yet, no one had managed to penetrate her bravado and assertiveness. She had known John since

childhood and everybody had already married them off, but neither he nor she had got passed the talking stage. They enjoyed each other’s

company but more like brother and sister than lovers. She was not a virgin, but that was more due to teenage naivety than serious dating.

The whole episode had been both clumsy and painful and not in the least like something she wanted to repeat. She had got to know herself

though, and her friendly vibrator was in the bedside cabinet upstairs waiting for her.





She relaxed, her eyes wandering around the unfamiliar lounge when a glimpse of light caught her eye. A light where there should not be one.

It was coming from a crack in the paneling. She put her cup down and went for a closer look. Without warning the panel opened. There was

a room with what appeared to be a bare light bulb. Her first reaction was to turn and run but curiosity got the better of her.





“Angela.”





It was almost inaudible. Definitely female. Soft, and almost enticingly gentle.





“Who’s there?”





“Angela.”





“Who are you?”





“Come in, and I will show you.”





That sounded like a trap if ever there was one. A door she did not open might well shut on its own as well.





“Show yourself,” she demanded





“That is not how it works,” came the unhelpful reply.





“Why should I trust you?”





“You bought the house didn’t you?”





She took a step closer. The room looked bare with a simple table in the middle. On it was something that looked familiar. She took a step

closer. Surely not!





“Yes it is” the voice said.





“I hadn’t said anything. How do you know what I was thinking?”





“I knew your name?”





“Who are you?” It was more of a plea now than a demand.





“Look on the wall.”





There was a picture. She had not seen it. Maybe it had not been there? It was of a woman. She was comely in a medieval sort of way. Her

eyes were bright but her clothes were dowdy. The hat said witch.





“I am the spirit of this house. I have no form but this house does my bidding. I can move things, create things, change things even stop

time itself.”





“Are you trying to drive me away?”





“On the contrary. I hope that you will stay for a very long time.”





“So you do not intend to harm me?”





“Not in the way you might think. I cannot do you permanent damage and that includes death, but I can give the illusion of pain and it will

seem very real. More important though, I can give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.”





“There must be a catch.”





“Only this. You must tell no one of me, without my permission,” she added, almost as if it was an afterthought.





“I am not sure anyone would believe me even if I did.”





“Do not be tempted to try.”





She walked up to the table. It was definitely her vibrator, or a very good facsimile. It even had the small chip in the battery cover

where she had knocked it in her rush to hide it from her mother.





“Now go and enjoy yourself. When you are ready, present yourself in front of the panel, naked. And be prepared to do whatever I ask of

you.”


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Author Information

R.G. Bargy is an active participant in the bondage lifestyle, giving as well as receiving. His stories are derived from experience, as much as from fantasy, and he loves to share those experiences with his readers.

 


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