The Witch House

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The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Thu Oct 20, 2016 1:09 pm

In case some have not seen the thread. This storiy is inspired by an idea and I have been given free reign. I welcome comments and suggetions. This is the prologue, the 1s chapter will follow

Prologue

Angela willed herself not to climax but it was no use. The vibrations were as much a part of her as a limb or organ and even if her hands were free to move they would not have been able to remove or affect the stimulation. Her tormentor was tuned to her deepest needs and vulnerabilities. Her cries of despair were muffled by the padding in her mouth that was as immovable as the ties that bound her. She basked in the glorious immobility as her body tried to buck and convulse. She would pass out and awake as if nothing had happened. Even time almost stood still. She was convinced that she had been bound for many hours and yet it will have been one hour, no more and no less. There would be no marks or evidence of binding or duress only the glow of satisfaction from orgasms the like of which she could never have conceived before. Even so she always tried to resist. Not because she did not enjoy the climax, but because the journey was equally if not more exciting and the orgasms meant journey's end.

She stood up. She was naked, of course but the room temperature was comfortable and there were no windows in this room that might reveal her nakedness to others. Not that there was anybody else in the house. And the privacy of the house was protected by the mature garden and high walls.

It was time to go out. A pity, but, despite all the magic, she must be seen to live a normal life, whatever that might actually be. The last thing she needed was for some concerned friend or family member to come looking for her. True, the house looked perfectly normal, and she had entertained both family and friends, formally and informally but the secret must remain with her or it would be lost. John was waiting, She liked him, but it could never get beyond frindship. Not as long as she lived in the Witch's House.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Thu Oct 20, 2016 1:10 pm

1

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 there are a couple of bits 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 panelling. 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."

"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"

She picked up the vibrator. Nothing happened. The door was still open. She turned and walked out, forcing herself not to run. The door closed behind her. A quick glance showed that there was no evidence that it had ever existed. Her coffee was where she had left it. She drank it. It was perfect temperature to drink, almost as if she had never left. She gave another look around the room, walked to the door, switched off the light and made her way upstairs, vibrator in hand,

She undressed slowly anticipating what was to come. She could not resist looking for her vibrator in the drawer where she thought she had left it. It was not there.

"Well, well" she said out loud. "Curiouser and curiouser said Alice. And I did not even ask her name."

She switched off the lights and lay back on the bed vibrator in hand. She automatically moved it around her clit, but her mind was elsewhere. What did she mean by 'Do whatever I ask?'

"Oh, oh,"

She shuddered.

She put the vibrator away in the drawer and settled down with a smile on her face.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Sun Oct 23, 2016 2:09 pm

2

Angela awoke refreshed.

"What a strange dream," she said out loud. "so vivid."

She dressed with purpose. Her morning routine had not changed, despite moving out alone. Muesli breakfast and a pot of tea ensured that she was set for the day. She made her packed lunch and set off. Her appointments were within the Birmingham area so although it was comparatively few miles the traffic ensured that she was driving for most of the day. She dropped into the gym for her daily workout and picked up a Chinese for dinner. She found a mindless programme to watch on TV before settling down with a book. Her taste in reading varied. At present she was on the third of a series of medieval mysteries. Perhaps that was why she had dreamt about witches?

She slept well but if she had dreamt the details escaped her.

Another day, the routine continued. This time she went to Worcester. She was pleased with how it went and the M42 behaved well getting her home a little earlier that usual. She was not an exciting cook and tended to alternate between takeaway and frozen convenience meals. She had a night out with the girls and spent a little time making herself conventionally beautiful. She had been tempted to talk about her dream but something made her stop. Something about not telling anyone? But it was only a dream wasn't it?

Another dreamless but refreshing night and life went on.

She was relaxing with a cup of coffee when the thought crossed her mind.

"Perhaps it was not a dream?"

She put her cup down slowly.

"Present yourself naked?"

She felt very self conscious. Her clothes dropped to the floor, She could gather them up before going to bed. There was a mirror on the wall to her left. She was not groomed and her daily make up was looking tired.

"Well, here I am," she announced.

After what seemed like an age but was probably less than a minute the door opened.

"Not a dream then," she said.

The room was different. The floor was soft. The light seemed less harsh and unfocussed. The table was still there but there was now a sort of chaise-long on the right.

The door closed.

She felt a surge of panic. She was trapped. It took all of her will power not to turn and scratch at the wall behind her.

"Welcome back Angela. Please, take a seat. You are perfectly safe."

The voice was soft and gentle.

"I want you to touch yourself, as you would for pleasuring."

She felt herself go hot from foot to scalp. She touched her breast but it was an empty gesture.

"Perhaps if you closed your eyes," the voice suggested. "forget where you are."

She tried to relax and closed her eyes. She was aware of her heart pounding. Her right hand traced around her right nipple and she gently pulled at it. Gaining confidence her hands wandered over her body concentrating mostly on her breasts. Her left hand dropped down between her legs.

"Do not bring yourself off."

The voice was now firm and insistent. Angela withdrew her hand and opened her eyes.

"That took some effort didn't it?"

"I guess so. I am not used to being ordered about."
"I am sorry, but you will, I hope, understand why."

"Don't get me wrong, I find it quite exciting, I am just not used to it. In fact this whole thing is a bit bizarre. I was not even certain it was real."

"Do you trust me?"

"I think so. I mean I have to, what with the locked door and all that."

"It will open if you stand in front of it. Do you want to leave?"

"No," she admitted.

"Do you see what is on the table?"

"Looks like handcuffs."

"Put them on."

She walked over to the table. She had never been this close to a pair of handcuffs but was pretty certain that once put on she would not be able to take them off. without a key or something and there was no key. She placed one over her left wrist and closed it, there was a sort of ratchet so that it would tighten but not loosen. She tightened it as far as she dared. The other cuff sort of dangled. She considered for a moment. The police always seemed to handcuff hands behind the back. Could she? Yes she probably could. She felt her heart race again. A little clumsily, but effectively, she cuffed her right hand so that her wrists were secured behind her.

"Now try and touch yourself"

It was pretty obvious that she could not succeed but she made a couple of valiant attempts.

Suddenly the right hand cuff opened again.

"Do you now see something else on the table.?"

Angela was again uncertain whether it had appeared of whether she had just not noticed it. It was a slightly strange looking thong. The front was quite wide and stiff but the back was virtually string, maybe fine leather. The front was probably a sort of leather as well.

"I see it."

"Put it on. But I should warn you. if you do you will not be able to remove it."

Angela shrugged. In for a penny...

It felt a little silly with a handcuff dangling but she put her legs through and pulled the thing up. Sure enough, when it reached her waist it automatically tightened to a snug fit. She could not even get a finger inside it.
"Your sex is now mine," the voice said. There was no malice, or even glee. It was just a matter of fact. "It is magical. It will allow you to urinate or defecate and you will not notice, or see it, you can even wash through it, but if you try and touch yourself it will block you. Others are not affected. But if you have intercourse and climax there might be consequences when you return."

"I assume you are not denying me completely? After all you did promise me pleasure beyond my wildest dreams."

"Let me demonstrate."

Suddenly there was a vibration. It was as if her whole body was vibrating but concentrating right inside her. She automatically clawed at her sex but all she felt was smooth material. It stopped. Then her anus was invaded. Then the vibrations returned the intrusion vibrating as well.

"Ow!"

It was some sort of electric shock, inside her. Again she could nether reach nor affect anything

Her legs turned to jelly as she felt something fuck her.

"Oh my god," she uttered.

The sensations stopped.

"Now cuff yourself again."

Angela realised that it would make no difference whether her hands were free or not. She could not stop whatever this spirit wished to do to her.

"I think you should return to the couch."

Angela obeyed, lying awkwardly on her wrists.

She sat there conscious of little other than the fact that she was waiting and that her hands were uncomfortable behind her.

Unbelievably a fly landed on her nipple. She felt it. She shivered. Its wings beat and her nipple vibrated. She could not get her hands to it and her attempts at blowing at it failed.

Her first thought was revulsion, but it was doing something to her. Something else.

Another fly. This could not be real! They were buzzing in harmony. It was going right through her nipples. She was getting turned on again.

The vibrations started up again inside her,. They were only just noticeable but they matched the flies. Her body was vibrating. And she could not stop it.

"You must resist the climax."

Resist? How could she resist! She tensed up but that just enhanced the vibrations.

Her anus was invaded again. It must be some sort of magic because there were no protrusions in the thong she had put on

She lost track of what was doing what. She was in sensual overload. Nothing was going to stop the growing climax, except that it was still building! She was not climaxing!

She pulled futilely at her wrists. She did not really know why. Her whole body was vibrating. She had to do something!

The climax when it finally came was mind-blowing.

But the vibrations did not stop.

It took a few moments to realise it. She was thrashing in ecstasy but through it was almost a pain, or a craving, or, she could not grasp it, but it was building again, possibly higher than before. She must come again. She wanted it. She had never wanted it more. She was still conscious of the handcuffs and the impossible task of breaking free of them. What for? The vibrations were inside and beyond her reach, yet she needed to reach them.

"Oh shit!"

It was not like her. The need to vocalise. Her mind was going numb. She was not even certain if it was now ecstasy or agony, but it was still not stopping.

"No more!" she pleaded.

"One more," was the cold response.

"No o o o !"

Her voice screeched as her insides exploded again.

She was now rolling on the floor. How she got there she was not certain.

The vibrations faded, slowly, bring her down. He cuffs released and disappeared. She flung her arms wide, in submission.

How long did she lie there? Time had no meaning. The ache was both good and bad. She was exhausted. She could not persuade herself to even try and move let alone get on her feet.

The door was open. Clearly it was time for her to leave.

She crawled. It was undignified but who was to know? Some disembodied spirit? She reached her chair and scrambled into it. The door had already closed. She looked around. Surely it must now be dark outside but the curtains were not drawn and light still streamed in. What time was it? Was it morning?

Unbelievably she had been in there for one hour.

Her hands clawed down between her legs but, although she could see her pubic hair, she could not reach inside her. Clearly this magic went beyond the room and the spirit had implied that it could follow her movements beyond it, even beyond the house.

There was a satisfied glow in her belly, for want of a better description. Her clothes were scattered where she had left them, Shakily she gathered them up. She was alone, but not quite ready to wander around naked. Clutching the clothes over her modesty she staggered upstairs to find her gown. Strength was returning to her legs but she now felt like she had over done it at the gym.

She made herself a cup of hot chocolate. And sat in the chair with her chin on her hugged knees, mindlessly rocking herself.

"I still never asked her name.," she said out loud, "maybe next time."

She was certain that there would be a next time. But not for a day or two. She was literally shagged out.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Wed Oct 26, 2016 7:29 pm

3

Sleep did not come quickly that night, not that she was worried or concerned but the feelings in her groin perpetually reminded her of what had happened and she continually tried to touch herself. It was just the fact that it was clearly forbidden and she felt the need to rebel. Eventually she drifted off. She had vague memories of dreams but nothing tangible. The sensations had reduced to a dull ache when she awoke. She knew that she would go back into the room, but today was Sunday.

Angela was not a church goer but Sundays had a different routine. She was an addict to car boot sales and one in particular. She dressed with expectation. One day she would find that one bargain that would mean the end to all this driving and work.

One day maybe, but not today. The heavens had opened, albeit for a brief period but it sent everyone scurrying for cover and most sellers packed up. She had found a mirror she liked, but that was for the house, not for any sort of profit. She got home a little bedraggled and treated herself to a relaxing bath rather than a quick shower. She looked at herself, half submerged. She did not think of herself as narcissic but she did try and keep in good shape. She had never considered tattoos or body modification. She was not even sure why the thought had crossed her mind now.

She dried and dressed. It was a good half hour's drive to her parents, ironically driving back towards where she had been earlier.

Her mother was in the kitchen, her father reading the paper. She let herself in, shouting a greeting as she did so.

She exchanged some small talk with her mother before going into the sitting room and picking up the magazine that accompanied the paper. It was almost as if she had never left home.

The meal was a traditional Sunday roast, her mother clearly deciding that she must make sure that Angela had at least one decent meal a week.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, what's on you mind?"

Angela paused. Oh what the heck,

"have you ever worn handcuffs?"

He mother almost choked. Her father looked angry.

"Not you as well!"

Angela was more than a little confused.

"I am sure I don't know what you mean,," she said defensively.

"I will explain later, if you want, but why do you ask? Has someone suggested it? John perhaps?"

"Don't be silly. John and I are just good friends." She was racking her brain trying to think of a plausible reason for asking. "No, it was just I came across a DVD of 50 Shades, you remember that book that caused such a fuss a while back. I was wondering. Do people actually do such things?"

"I am sure that they do," her mother said, her composure returning, but Angela had clearly stirred up something. "but surely its more than that. Have you ever tried them?"

That was the one question she had hoped to avoid.

"I have no reason to," she lied.

Her mother seemed to accept it, although Angela recognised that look. The look she had seen when the vibrator had flown out her drawer accidentally when she had been looking for something else.

There was an awkward silence.

"Who is for dessert?" her mother said brightly. "Summer Pudding. Probably the last one of the year."

They finished the meal in comparative silence. Angela helped her mother clear the dishes.

"Come up stairs," her mother said quietly, "I have something to show you."

They went upstairs conspiratorial like a couple of school girls. Angela had never seen her mother like this. She went into their bedroom, a hallowed hall, Angela had hardly been in since a youngster. Her mother opened the wardrobe and pulled out a box from the back. It was a little tired, clearly having been used for a very long time.

"The answer is yes, and here they are."

She was holding a pair of handcuffs.: bright, shiny with a key in the central lock.

It was Angela's turn to be embarrassed.

"Did dad?"

"No, your father hates them. I am a self bondage addict. Your father did indulge me for a while but he really does not like it. It caused a few rows I can tell you. We don't talk about it now."

"Do you still?"

"Yes, when he is not around. I think he knows it as well, but, like I said, we don't talk about it."

"Why do you do it?"

"It's exciting. And yes it is very erotic."

"Do you get off on it?" She felt a little embarrassed still. it was not the sort of thing she expected to be talking about. She tried to imagine her mother squirming in bondage but it was just beyond her.

"Yes and no. I find it sexually exciting but I do not always orgasm."

"So you do sometimes orgasm. Do you multi-orgasm?"

"Are you sure you don't know what I am talking about?"

"You would be surprised what's on the Internet," Angela answered quickly.

"No I wouldn't. I probably know more than you do." Her mother was clearly not messing about. "Seriously, are you involved in something, or seriously think about doing it? I am not being critical. Hell, I have been doing it most of my adult life, but there are risks. I nearly killed myself once. I don't want to bury my favourite daughter because of a sexual accident."

"I am your only daughter," Angela pointed out with a smirk.

"You are not doing or thinking of doing something are you?" her mother repeated

Angela had no answer. She could not tell her mother about the room.

"I am just curious," she eventually said. "I had no idea that you did such things."

"There is no reason why you should. Your father will probably accuse me of encouraging you or something."

"Why do you do it?" Angela repeated

"I told you, it is exciting."

"But doesn't dad satisfy you?

"It's not the same. I was into self bondage long before I met your father. I thought that once I got sexually involved I would not want it any more. I was wrong. The first time your dad caught me he was both angry and hurt."

"I think I can imagine."

"Probably not. I know that I could never picture my own parents having sex let alone in bondage."

"It is a bit," she paused, uncertain, "I don't know, just something I never thought about. I mean you had to have sex to get me. Were you tied up then?"

"No, your father never took advantage of me in bondage, even though I might have liked it. We only had conventional sex. I think he saw my self bondage activities as some sort of cheating. I think he thought that he should have been enough for me. He really does not understand it."

Her mother was taking things out of the box. Angela caught sight of a ball with some sort of strap through it.

"Is that a gag?"

"Yes, but I don't use it unless someone else is nearby. it is very dangerous not to be able to cry out or get help. That was what nearly killed me."

"But isn't it pointless if no one is around to hear you?"

"There is always a chance of someone passing close enough to hear you, especially if you are not in you bedroom."

"You have done it outside?"

Her mother smiled.

"In the garden, even in a wood. It is very exciting to be helpless and vulnerable."

"But you might have got raped."

"I might, I suppose, but most people are probably like your father; secret knights in shining armour rushing to the assistance of the damsel in distress. But I was never in distress, although sometimes I got myself quite worked up. Especially if there was no way to get myself off."

"So it's not sexual."

"Oh yes it is. I get turned on just by being tied up. And the more restrictions the more excited I get, but I can't just orgasm. I need some stimulation. A vibrator works every time, but I can set it low enough not to let me get there. If I don't orgasm in bondage I will usually have one afterwards. But orgasming in bondage is much more powerful, and of course, if you can't stop it you have to orgasm again and again."

"Isn't that painful?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow. Angela only just caught it.

"You are not telling me you have never mulit-orgasmed?"

"I have never had the courage to try," she said honestly. The fact that she had been forced to it by someone, or something else was another matter.

"If it wasn't frowned upon I would be tempted to do it for you. I hope some day someone does. I can do it with a vibrator even out of orgasm, but then again, I know what to expect."

Again the vision of her mother writhing in orgasmic bliss alluded her.

"Would you be my safety if your father is not around?"

"What do you mean, come and untie you? I am not sure I could, besides I am over half an hour away, traffic willing."

"I guess not. It was worth a try."

"Your not embarrassed are you." it was not a question. "You would tie yourself up in front of me if you thought I would watch."

"I have got quite aroused just talking about it and showing you my toys. I haven't even shown you my prize. Even your father has never see this."

She left the box and went to a drawer. There were clearly knickers in it. It reminded Angela of where she kept her own vibrator. A vibrator that was now of no use to her.

It was in a glossy box. She saw the words Peanut Vibe on it. Her mother took it out and placed it on the palm of her hand.

"It has five speeds and is remotely controlled, one of which is a variable setting which switches it on and off at random sometimes hard and sometimes not. It can drive you crazy. Would you like to try it?"

"I don't think so," she said quickly. "There are some things I wouldn't share even with you."

Another raised eyebrow? Perhaps Angela had revealed more than she ought to have.

"I see some rope. Can you actually tie yourself up?"

"Of course. You can even tie your own hands but I only do that if I want to be able to escape. Handcuffs are better because you have to wait for the key to become available."

"You mean you actually do this freezing in water thing?"

"That and a key safe with timer. I even tied myself up by the front door and waited for the key to drop through the letter box, having posted it to myself. But that was a long time ago. It was a bit crazy even then."

"So do you torture yourself? I mean I looked at one site and the things they got up to were positively weird. Even drinking urine or crawling naked over tacks or broken glass."

"Yes I know that site. The fact that you do still makes me wonder about you. I have never been into watersports and the like although I did piss myself and worse when I got stuck. I have various nipple clamps and butt plugs that I occasionally use. These are the most intense, they are called Clover clips. They tighten with pressure and don't slacken until you release them."

"Don't you find it hard to put them on yourself?"

"Not really. Most things don't start to irritate or hurt straight away, and by the time they do you are already unable to stop them. By the time I put them in or on I am 90% immobile, usually just one hand free."

"Does pain and discomfort turn you on or off?"

"Bit of both. Pressure on my nipples arouses me,. You will not have seen my piercings."

"Piercings?"

Her mother opened her blouse and revealed her breast from out of her bra. There was a barrel through the back of her nipple.

"I also have a pierced labia. Your father went mad but it was too late for him to stop me."

"Did it hurt?"

"No more than peircing my ears, but I almost orgasmed."

Her mother giggled.

"Do you have a pierced belly button?"

"What for? It's not erotic and I am not a belly dancer. I did think of a nose ring but your father forbade it and I was not enthusiastic enough to defy him again. He actually likes the nipple barrels. Not sure why."

"You say he does not like you tied up?"

"No, he doesn't understand it at all. He used to indulge me, like I said, and I got some really good inescapable bondage along with some really good orgasms but he felt cheated. He wanted to get me off; not some machine. And like I also said, he refused to have sex with me in bondage so he usually tied me up with my legs together and without any sort of stimuli. Once he gave me a crupper and told me I wouldn't be freed until I had orgasmed. It was glorious. But he only did it the once."

"I never knew," Angela said wistfully.

"We made sure you didn't," her mother said, "I think that is what upset your father at the table. Maybe it's in the genes?"

"I never said that I was either doing it or going to," Angela reminded her.

"Yes, dear." The look said much more. "We had better go back down now. Shame. I thought for a while that you might indulge me."

"Sorry, mum. I am barely getting used to the idea of you doing it at all, let alone watching or helping you do it."

"Maybe one day."

Angela did not answer. She left her mum tidying away her toys. Her father was watching the football.

Nothing more was said on the subject. Angela stayed until after tea.

In the quietness of her own home she reviewed her talk with her mother. Had she been wrong to deny her? Why could she not accept it? Was what she was now doing so really different?

The answer was inconclusive. It seemed that the spirit was going to insist that she put on or self applied anything, especially restrictions. So in that sense it was self bondage. But on the other hand the spirit controlled both her release and any stimulation or pain. Then again that bullet had basically taken the control out of her mother's hands as did any remote release or key control. She was convinced that her mother would love the room and the spirit, but, at least for now, they must never be introduced.
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Chapter 4

Unread postby RGbargy » Sun Oct 30, 2016 5:03 pm

4

It was no longer a case of disbelief or denial. Angela knew that the room existed and had some idea of what it contained. But she was in no hurry to go back in. The reason she knew about the web sites was that she had spent many hours surfing sex sites as both a teenager, and a young adult. In truth the self bondage site had put her off such things. She had never even tried it and none of her flirtations had ever suggested it. She had not found wearing handcuffs either particularly exciting or frightening. She was certainly not rushing to have another try. On the other hand the orgasms had been both exciting and frightening.

She flung herself into her work and followed it up with a punishing workout. John was still the only person who came close to the definition of boy friend, but only inasmuch as he was male. She had a group of single females who met together regularly. The conversation was normally about male conquests or girlie accessories. Angela kept her end up with tales of purchases at boot sales and encouraging, or commiserating with, her friends. She was not in the least tempted to discuss her latest adventures. And the thought of her mother tying herself up was not one she wished to even consider, let alone divulge.

It was Friday when she finally presented herself again. She undressed upstairs and came down in her robe. She felt much less self conscious. Her mind was clear. There was a little anticipation that manifested itself as proverbial butterflies in her stomach and a slightly dry mouth. She let her gown drop and stood resolutely. The door opened.

It was different; very different. The ground was stone, almost damp. The light came from flaming braziers that exuded some warmth but the atmosphere was stuffy. This was a dungeon. Ahead was a contraption that could have come out of any medieval castle except that it looked almost as if it had been made yesterday. The table was no longer in the middle and was rustic to match the surroundings. The edges of the room were in darkness.

"I have some questions," Angela said boldly.

"Proceed."

"What is your name?"

"Does that matter?"

"I wish to know, that is all"

"You may call me Ann"

"I had expected something more archaic, or even witch like."

"I am not a black witch, or even a white one. In modern game parlance you might call me chaotic neutral."

"Were you burnt at the stake?"

"No, I was not troubled by authority or even the local community. There were rumours, but nothing was ever investigated, to my knowledge."

"Why then?"

"Do you mean why you?"

"Not only me. I sort of assume that this has gone on before and that I am not the first."

"You are perceptive."

"So why?"

"I was a lesbian before the term existed. I only love women. "

"Love? Is that what this is?"

"Not yet."

"Am I on trial?"

"In a sense yes. If you respond to me our love will blossom. If you reject me I will drive you away, as I have done others."

"Are you jealous? I mean if I found someone I wished to marry?"

"That would be unfortunate, yes."

"What about other women?"

"I think I like your mother."

Angela's heart jumped.

"You know about her?"

"Only what you know."

"You must also know that I am not comfortable with the reality of it?"

"I understand, but, as a respect you are not barred from discussing me with her."

"I am not sure that I can. I think she might want to see for herself."

"I might like that."

"And I might not."

"She could come in alone."

"That might not help me either."

For a moment or two Angela tried to diagnose why she could not accept her mother either in bondage or orgasmic bliss. It was irrational; and possibly selfish. She might even have been wrong not to offer her mother the help she craved. She would have to think some more on this.

"Anything else?"

The voice disturbed her reverie.

"Am I going to enjoy this?"

"I hope so. Try to keep an open mind. Remember that the journey is as important as the destination."

Angela walked over to the table. There was a chain. She had never seen one like it in real life but her research identified it as a nipple chain. It had manually adjustable clips rather than the clover self tightening type.

"I suppose that you want me to put that on?"

"It is not necessary, but I think it will enhance your experience."

"Can't you just impose it, like the flies or the other stimuli?"

"I could, but, as I think you already realised, this is a two way process. I need your willing participation and involvement."

"Is not being here willing and involvement enough?"

"No."

She picked it up. There was some weight but she had no sort of reference as to how that might feel when in place. She felt a tingle in her nipples as if she was anticipating the effect it might have. She actually wanted it.

"Are you going to change it once I am wearing it? Make it heavier, or add something?"

"No, but, for instance, if Your other put it on it might loosen or fall off. I can make sure that it does not."

The ends were like flat tweezers with a sleeve that closed them the nearer it got to the ends. Angela gingerly tightened one onto her left nipple until it hung on its own accord. She could feel it, but it was neither painful or particularly uncomfortable. She put the other side on but when she let go the chain pulled at the clasps. She sort of winced, not out of pain as such, more like a reaction. Something stirred in her groin, already.

"Now go to the cross and strap yourself in. The wrist cuffs are self locking but you will have to secure your ankles and the strap at the waist and forehead."
It was an Andrew's cross, being an X not a T or crucifix. She bent down and was conscious of the movement on her nipples. The straps were lined with some soft fur like fabric and bucked like a conventional belt. The stretch was not strenuous but once in place she could not move her legs. Buckling her waist was like putting on clothes. Strapping her head meat that she could not really see to place her wrists. There was an ominous click as her left wrist found its place. She wasted no time with her right wrist, There seemed no point in delaying things. She felt very exposed and vulnerable and the chain was still rocking from her movement.

She waited.

The urge to try and move was irresistible. Her body invented itches or irritants for her to try and reach or scratch.. She was now conscious of a dull ache in her nipples and a growing ache lower down. Her eyes rolled around trying to see where her head could not move to help her. Her mouth was dry. She licked her lips but there was no saliva to moisten them.

She waited.

She had never been tied down before although once, as a child she had got trapped in a confined space for a short time. She had screamed for help then. She did not scream now.

She waited.

The irritations persisted but she no longer attempted to move. The chain lay still, but her libido was smouldering.

She was suddenly aware of the ground moving, No, it was the cross. it was revolving ever so slowly. She gasped. and pulled at her wrists. It was instinct.

In her sixth form she had gone with some friends to a funfair and been dared to try the centrifugal cage. It had been the longest two minutes of her life. Now those feelings rushed back to her. While at full speed she had been held against the back unable to move the world rushing past in a blur. She was nearly upside down now. The movement was slow but inexorable. Her hair touched the ground. Her stomach refused to reach her mouth. Her nipples complained at her. The wheel turned agonisingly slowly. Her breathing eased as she returned to upright, but the wheel had not stopped.

She knew now what to expect as she turned upside down again, but the knowledge was of little use. She concentrated on breathing easily. Shutting her eyes had no effect..

Was it going faster? She was almost certain of it but the increase was almost imperceptible.

She was now certain. How fast would it go?

Speed changed things. the effect of being upside down lessened but the movement itself cause different effects. The chain was in perpetual agitation and her nipples reacted to every pull. She was a little light headed, giddy perhaps. It was becoming more and more like the circus ride and less and less like erotic stimulation.

She felt the braking when it came. The reduction in speed was more rapid taking only a few rotations to drop down to almost nothing. When it stopped she was panting. She was sweating. She wanted to get off.

Now the vibrations started against her clit. Low and enticing, but unmistakable.

The cross started moving again. Slowly as before.

As the turning increased so did the vibrations. She could not reconcile the mixed stimuli. He nipples were now on fire.

"You must resist."

The words from the Borg filled her mind. resistance was futile.

As the feelings inside her welled up her breathing became laboured, thrown off by the turning of the wheel. She was tensing against her bonds and trying to writhe and wriggle to no effect. As the climax came she both welcomed and cursed it. The wheel was turning faster than ever with her hair now standing up with the centrifugal forces. She heard screaming. It must have been hers.

She must have feinted, or whatever the correct term might be. The wheel was upright and motionless. She still could not move but all movement and vibration had stopped. She heard a feint click and her right wrist was released closely followed by her left. Her first act of freedom was to release her nipples from their torture, and winced, but somehow in a good way as each one was freed. Shakily she undid the buckles, unsure whether her legs would take her weight. The door was open. It was time to leave.

The clock showed that it had taken one hour. She did not believe it. She put on her gown but left it undone being reluctant to let it touch her still sensitive nipples.

Every clock showed the same thing, even her computer. But how did she follow that? It was too early for bed. If this was the way it was going to work she would have to make it an hour before she wished to go to sleep or maybe a spare hour in the day? Maybe not. In truth she was shagged out, again, possibly more so. But, she was also on a bit of a high, her senses tingling and a very satisfied feeling below. Which ever she would have to ensure that this time limit was reliable and try and work to it. There was no doubt in her mind that she would return. She was already addicted. It was now more than just curiosity. She wanted to feel like she did now. Maybe sleeping afterwards was not such a good idea? Sleep would deaden and loose the aftermath that she had suffered to gain. She could even, almost, understand what her mother had spent a life time craving.

She basked. There was no other word for it. She slumped in her chair, her gown open to the world. Her eyes glazed. She might have actually gone to sleep. She eventually stirred and made herself a drink before watching something mindless on the Television. She went to bed satiated and still aglow. If only she did not have to work in the morning.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Tue Nov 08, 2016 7:50 pm

5


It took a great deal of will power and self discipline not to either take a 'sickie' or even go straight back to the room. Although, as before, there was still an echo of pleasurable pain in her groin and she really did not need or want further orgasms, the temptation was very real.

She followed her morning routine with determination and soon the night before was a dim, if confusing memory. Had she enjoyed it? She enjoyed the resulting feelings but the actual ordeal on the wheel had tried her endurance. Being tied down had sort of made it easier, but even so there must be a less traumatic way to get orgasmic bliss. She recalled that her mother could multi-gasm just with a vibrator. Clearly that route was barred, but only if she remained under the spell of the spirit. If the chastity was removed she could do what she wished. Yet, her mother still craved bondage, so maybe that was part and parcel to her pleasure?

As the week progressed her curiosity, even craving returned. She sat in her chair trying not to look towards the panel. There was nothing to see. The light had never returned. Even so her eyes kept straying towards it and there was a wetness in her palms and corresponding dryness in her mouth.

She ripped her clothes off, scattering them. She stood, naked, resolutely. She was not disappointed.

She walked in and stopped dead. For a moment she thought she had made some sort of mistake and gone upstairs to her bedroom. Except that it was not quite right. The bed was hers, or at least a very good copy, but all her normal bits and pieces were missing. The wardrobe and other furniture were not real. She could put her hands through them but her eyes saw them as real.

There was some rope neatly lined up on the bed and what was obviously a ball gag, handcuffs and some sort of nipple pumps. Clearly she was not to be trusted to secure her hands properly with rope, but she was expected to both secure and titillate herself.

"Before you ask, yes you will always spend 1 hour of real time in here, but your perception of it may not agree. I say this because the whole point of today is to give you a taste of prolonged captivity."

"Thank you," Angela answered.

"I think you know what I expect. Your previous research should have shown you how to use rope, or do you want me to guide you?"

"I have never tied anyone. let alone myself," she confessed. "Perhaps a little help."

"Sit on the bed and watch your TV."

She was about to say that it was not real but an image appeared on it. She watched a demonstration of ropework, probably a netcast but she did not recognise the people involved. The basic technique of doubling the rope and cinching seemed straight forward enough. Then there was an instruction for tying her own breasts. It seemed fairly straight forward also. Finally there was instruction on fixing a crupper. She was intruiged. Wasn't the chastity belt going to interfere?

"Not if I don't want it to." Ann said, answering her thoughts.

"How do these work?" Angela said picking up one of the plastic tubes. It had a screw thread inside and a ridged wheel at the closed end.

"You place it over your nipple and turn the wheel until it is firmly sucked into place. It is a little more stringent than last time but I am sure you will be able to cope. I suggest it is the last thing you do before securing the handcuffs. Do you know what a hog-tie is?

"Bending your legs back to your hands?"

"Yes, I want you to secure the cuffs to your ankle tie so that when you put them on you are virtually touching your feet. It will be quite strenuous."

"I see."

Actually she could not really imagine how it would feel but she did understand what was expected.


"Place the handcuffs under your ankles and when you cinch them ensure that you catch the cuffs as well."

"I understand."

"Now, in your own time proceed. Start with the Crupper. I do not want you to include any extra knots but it needs to be tight to have the right effect."

"I will take your word for it."

She considered the ropes in front of her. Which one?

"Start at the left. You will find each one is about the right length. The longest one is for your breasts. The ropes get longer as you go up your legs: ankles, knees and then thighs."

"I have seen this. Why the thighs? Isn't that a little excessive?"

"Maybe but it makes you more conscious of the crupper, amongst other things."

"Oh."

"And don't forget the gag."

"Did I scream last time?"

"Yes, but that is not the reason for the gag. It makes you that little more helpless. As you can guess from the amount of talking already. Once you put that on you can neither ask for clarification nor freedom. In conventional bondage there is a safe word or grunt but I will not, no can not, cause you actual harm. What goes on in here only leaves if I allow it to. I may, sometime, decide to flog you to an inch of your life but when you leave there will not be a mark on your fair skin. I can even disable you or maim you in here without permanent damage. If you lose consciousness you will not die. But that is not for now. Suffice it to say that even gagged you are in no danger but you are totally at my mercy."

Angela shivered. involuntarily.

"Proceed," Ann repeated.

Angela picked up the gag. Strictly speaking she was both obeying and disobeying.

She felt a little silly The ball felt strange. The strap pulled at the sides of her mouth. She could still breathe through her mouth, just, but she felt a little spittle. She resisted the temptation to try and speak.

She considered the next rope. She picked it up and doubled it, taking a turn around her waist, then pulling the two loops back in the opposite direction making a second turn and threaded the ropes between the turns. She then turned the whole thing around on her waist so that the lengths dropped from the small of her back, pulling it as tight as she could. She then pulled it between her legs and split the ends so that one went behind and the other in front. tying then together and tightening so that the rope tried to drop off her hips but could not do so. The rope between her legs bit inside her splitting her bum cheeks on the way to the back. She noted that as she bent down for the next rope the crupper tightened. She stood and the crupper relaxed a touch. nevertheless there was a tinge of something, even now.

She felt even more foolish taking turns around her chest above and below her breasts then splitting the rope passing the ends ether side of her neck and then cinching near her arm pits before taking them to the middle and cinching the middle. Her breasts were now being squeezed. It felt very strange, It was almost like a tight bra but the pressure was not even and her nipples seemed to protrude further than usual. That was probably her imagination.

She sat on the bed and the crupper tightened as she reached down to her ankles. She remembered the handcuffs. She repeated the procedure of a loop and passing it back around, and through the two turns, Her ankles were not very tight together but as she took each end either side and through, catching the cuffs en route she felt the ropes tighten, a second turn and they were firmly held. She knotted off and gave a little wriggle. Yes her ankles were held. Next her knees. She was getting a little more confident. With her thighs she had to squeeze to get the rope between them. Her legs were now firmly locked together. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable.

She paused. There was something else? Oh yes the nipple things. She considered one. Placed it over her nipple and gingerly turned the wheel. She felt it sort of bite and some pressure on her nipple as the expired air pulled at it. She risked another couple of turns. Then repeated with the other one. Even now she could feel the pressure both on her breasts themselves and the nipples in particular. Her libido rose a notch or two. Even now there was an unscratchable itch in her groin.

She rolled onto her chest and manipulated the handcuffs onto one wrist but it took several goes to manage to catch other. She then tried to relax but found herself straining, bent backwards in a bow, her arms taught and her legs bent almost double. She gave out a gasp of complaint and found that she spluttered. She rocked trying to get comfortable but it was not going to happen. She realised that every movement caused a pain in her nipples. She flopped onto her side in agony and despair. Her mouth chewing the gag and making ineffectual noises, spittle dripping out of the corner of her mouth. She fought for breath, not because it was difficult to breathe but because she was panting from the strain.

Ann said nothing. Angela was gagged.

How long did she lie there? She could not even manage to turn or get back onto her chest. She was almost completely immobile. The crupper was tearing her in half but not providing any sort of satisfaction or stimuli. Her breasts were warm and her nipples on fire. What the hell had she done? She tried to complain or get Ann's attention but the gag prevented anything other than some muffled grunts.

Angela did not think this was erotic. She was in agony. The handcuffs were biting into her wrists now and her arms felt like they would fall off. She was sweating. She was drooling. She was...

Excited! For crying out loud she was horny as hell! Despite everything there was an expectation. She knew that sooner or later she would be forced to orgasm. She wanted it, more than anything yet in this position, and under this strain, could she actually achieve it?

The vibration when it came was not what she expected. It was in the rope. Her mind grasped at it, willing it to get her off, but it was not strong enough. She howled a cry of disappointment but even that was lost.

The build up was slow, almost imperceptible. Suddenly her body strained and from nowhere convulsed. The ropes held firm, but her muscles still strained and tried to contract. Now she could feel the vibrations more strongly. She willed herself to another climax, and another , and...

"Oh shit!"

The words did not come but neither would the orgasm. Her body strained. She forgot everything else and focussed on her groin,

"Yes, yes, YES!"

No words, of course, but the relief was incredible. As if by magic, in fact it was by magic, the ropes just fell off and the cuffs opened, even the tubes dropped off her nipples and the gag disappeared from her mouth. She scattered the ropes and lay on her back stretching then alternately pulling her knees to her chest. Her legs now locked together by her own will not ropes. The now familiar ache pulsing through her.

"Fucking hell!"

"Now, now, language. I'll put that gag back on."

Angela could not be sure whether it was a joke or not.

"Sorry," she said, "it's not like me, really. Though on this occasion it seems quite apt. That was hell right up to the final climax."

"I will let it pass, this time."

She was serious! How peculiar?

"Now leave."

She sounded irritated. Angela scurried out like a scolded school girl.

She quickly gathered up her things and retreated to the safety of her own bedroom. There was a damp patch on her bed, which was ruffled and unmade. Angela would have to change the covers before going to bed. Perhaps this was a sort of punishment for her outburst? Or maybe it would have been there anyway. Ann had already demonstrated that she could move things around from the house to her room. But she had also said that things only changed outside if she wanted them to. Angela was certain that Ann could have restored her bed if she had wanted to. The fact that she hadn't spoke volumes.

Angela showered. She had sweated profusely but there were no rope burns or even residual red marks, as promised. Perhaps even the dirty feeling was more in her mind than actuality? The water splashed over her and she luxuriated in its caress and warmth.

She took her time drying both her body and her hair. She had been in the room for 1 hour but, as suggested, it had felt like much longer. Again she was ambivalent, unsure in her own mind whether she had enjoyed the wait or just the climax(es). Could she have one without the other? Perhaps it did not matter. As long as she wore the chastity device she could not test what sort of orgasms self stimulation without bondage could achieve. And, if she admitted it, she had no real desire to change things for now.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Mon Nov 14, 2016 7:30 pm

6


Her life went on. The weekend was upon her. She found herself opening the family front door, She was not aware of any change in her look or demeanour but her mother clearly saw something.

"You are looking well, vibrant even. Is there something you wish to tell us?"

"I am not pregnant, if that's what you mean," Angela quipped, unsure exactly what she did mean.

Once again her mother manoeuvred her upstairs for a motherly chat out of her father's earshot.

"Tell me your not tying yourself up."

"It's not that simple," Angela weedled.

"Either you are or you are not," her mother insisted.

"What makes you think I am?"

"Now I know you are. Come on, out with it."

"I am not sure that you will believe me."

"I have always known when you are lying to me, even if you thought otherwise."

It was a rather startling revelation, and one that Angela found hard to accept.

"If I told you that the house was haunted, would you believe me?"

"What has that to do with you tying yourself up?"

"Everything."

"I don't understand."

Angela paused. Her mother looked both expectant and perplexed. Angela needed to tell her. She needed to tell someone.

"Well..."

She started and it came tunbling out. She hardly stopped for breath. Her mother listened, straight faced. She occasionally offered a word of encouragement or query, but mostly she listened.

"... and she wants to meet you."

Angela had not intended to say that, but it just came out.

"And I think I want to meet her," her mother confirmed.

"I don't know. I am having enough trouble visualising your self bondage let alone seeing you naked or in orgasmic ecstasy."

"She did say that I could go in alone."

"Yes, but... " she faltered.. Her mother looked flushed. Angela could not deny it,

"you will fall under her spell."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"I have been thinking, "Angela said slowly, "I have been a little selfish."

"How so?"

"You asked me for help and I said no."

"I understand."

"That's as may be, but it doesn't make it right.

"This is something very personal and private. And I do understand. I am your mother, not your sex partner."

"I really don't know what to do. It is so confusing and bewildering. But if I can't tell my mother and share with her, who can I tell?"

"You are sure that this Ann is not malevolent or dangerous?"

"I am sure that she can't actually hurt me or kill me, yes. But it feels very real."

"I guess it is no different from a boy friend," her mother conceded. "I don't think my parents really approved of your father."

"Really?"

"No one is good enough for your daughter. One day, if you have children, you may understand that. I will also admit that I have ulterior motives for wanting to meet this Ann. But I do worry about you as well."

"I Know."

They had never been very touchy, feely since her childhood but Angela now felt the need for a big motherly hug.

She felt like a child again. She fought back the tears welling up in her eyes.


"I will not insist," her mother said. "but I am very jealous of you, and that is hard for me to come to terms with also."

"Give me a little more time," Angela said. "I had already decided to be your safety if needed."

The look on her mother's face was a mixture of surprise and something else. Probably excitement.

"I will have a word with Ann," Angela continued, "and see if we can make it so that you come in after I am immobile. So that I can't interfere or even object to what happens to you."

"You don't have to," her mother repeated.

"I know, " Angela whispered, "but I want to, really I do."

She basked in her mother's arms.

"We had better go back down, your father will be wondering what we are doing."

It was hard not to look like a couple of conspirators. Angela was sure that her father knew something was up. He might even have guessed the basic topic but chances were he would not dream in a million years what they were actually planning. She could not really believe it herself.

Alone in her house she agonised and worried over what she had agreed to. In all fairness she had no right to stop her mother getting what she had craved for, or the reassurances about her precious daughter, but...

Angela kept putting off the next confrontation, not that she expected any argument or refusal.

Life was good. she was good at her work and it was providing a more than adequate financial reward. She had friends and a social life, and then there was John.

Why had John never dated anyone? Why was he not only single but at her beck and call? Why did he not demand something of her or even woo her affections? Clearly Ann would never accept him but knowing that, should she not let him go? Even in a world that had turned mad she could never have foreseen the bombshell John had for her.

"I am gay."

"You are joking, of course."

"No I am not. I have had a boy friend, even lover, for quite some time now but we have kept it quiet."

"Gay? Are you sure? I mean, we have never... You have never... I have never..."

"You are my friend, a good friend, almost a sister to me. Even my parents don't know. They seem to think that we will..."

"So do mine."

"You're not upset?"

"Why should I be? Like I said, I have never encouraged or even expected anything of that sort from you. I must admit I am a little surprised. Are you going to tell your parents?"

"I don't know that I can."

"Don't you think that they ought to know?"

"Why? It's my life!"

"Do you love this man? How long have you known him? How long have you been sleeping together. You have been sexually involved? Not that it's any of my business of course, but have you?"

"Yes. For several months now."

"Are you dominant or submissive?"

"What makes you think I am either?"

"Just what I have read or heard of."

"We tie each other up."

Angela spluttered. She knew, that instant, what had gone through her mother's mind. Her mouth opened, and then closed. She could not think of anything to say.

"I never knew you were into bondage," she said lamely

"I wasn't. Peter introduced me. I was scared witless at first but now I love it."

"Are you sure its not the bondage rather than Peter that you love?"

"It might be, I suppose. Never thought of it like that."

"Like I said, it's none of my business."

"You're not shocked?"

"Surprised maybe."

"You won't tell anyone?"

"Your secret is safe with me," she assured him, resisting the temptation to reciprocate. She had a feeling that if she admitted her new experiences they might find a new shared interest, and Ann would definitely not approve.

"So what do you want me to do? She asked.

"Behave as if nothing was different."

She tried to look reluctant, maybe he was so desperate he did not notice. In truth it made her life much easier, for now.

"Okay, if that's what you want," she conceded.

The subject was dropped like a hot potato. All she needed now was for her girl friends to invite her to a BDSM orgy and her world would implode.

It didn't of course. And despite her self consciousness and conviction that they would somehow know, her weekly conflab went without incident.

Still she procrastinated, unwilling to follow through with what she had promised. As the next weekend loomed closer she steeled herself. It was time to negotiate, or whatever the right term was. She had to see Ann. She was also curious as to what she might come up with this time.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Thu Nov 17, 2016 9:32 pm

7


She was prepared, at least as prepared as she could be, without knowing what exactly would happen. She undressed in her bedroom and wore her robe downstairs. She could have gone naked but her sense of decency prevailed. If someone came to the door she could open it without embarrassment or delay. She was calm, sort of, but expectant. She let the robe drop and stood.

Again the light was subdued. She could see something on a clothes hanger, but she had some business to attend to first.

"I assume you know what I have agreed with my mother?"

"Yes."

"And you agree also?"

"Of course. You come in and restrain yourself and then I let her in. She will think it a matter of a minute or so, but you can take as long as you like."

"Thank you."

"We shall see."

There was something slightly ominous about that comment but Angela let it pass. She would proverbially cross that bridge when she came to it. For now her curiosity centred on the garment in front of her. It looked like a onesy, inasmuch as it was a full body item but the material was very light, almost translucent.

"Put it on, feet first, and roll it up your body. Put your hands and arms in and the head covering. It the zips up and down the back. Take your time, so as not to rip or damage it, although I can of course repair it."

There was a convenient chair. It started like putting on stockings or tights but then the comparisons stopped. She had never seen of worn anything like it. It was some sort of Lycra, almost rubber. It hugged her like a second skin. There were no gaps for nose, mouth or ears. She managed to bunch her hair inside. The Zips met at her neck. There was no mirror but she guessed that she would look more like a dummy than a person with no facial features, although her nipples still showed. She could still breathe easily and see through a slight haze. Ann's voice was slightly muffled but still understandable.

"It is called a Zentai suit," Ann informed her. "Now walk forward."

An area was revealed. The floor was a rubber like you would find in a wet room. There was a strap attached to a ring on the floor and lined leather cuffs suspended on a chain. She also saw something that looked like a control pad in a cradle.

"Strap your ankles, then cuff your hands in front of you, then pick up the pad. Be careful though, the pad is on a spring and when you let go it will rise out of your reach."

The strap was just that. She took it twice round her ankles and buckled it tight. The cuffs were also buckled and she had to use her mouth to tighten the second one. She reached for the pad and felt it almost slip due to the material on her fingers. It had two buttons. The top one pulled the chain on her wrists up. She guessed that the bottom one would lower them again. It was a steady pull and when her arms were above her head she let the button go.

"A little more," Ann said.

Angela was not so sure but did as she was told. As her arms straightened her grip on the control weakened. She let go and, as promised, the control lifted out of her reach. She was a bit more stretched than she might have liked so that her heels were off the ground.

"Excellent," Ann said.

She stood. It was neither comfortable nor particularly uncomfortable, although she would have preferred to have her feet firmly on the ground and a little more play in her arms. It occurred to her that the air was getting moist.

Due to the covering on her face she could not really see it but she was conscious of the material on her becoming heavier. She could now actually taste the moisture on her lips. The skin contracted, hugging her tightly all over. What little movement she had was lost. Her vision was now blurred and the material taught over her mouth. She was reminded of a scene in a horror movie where a girl was sprayed with water and then frozen, but for now she was just getting wetter, and heavier.

Angela resisted the temptation to speak. She was not really sure what she might say?

"You must resist."

Angela still had no idea how to resist. She had no control over her libido and, even now it had cranked up expectantly. The vibration was predictably low.

Suddenly she was pounded by strong water. It whipped and assaulted her, soaking her even more. The protective covering was no barrier and she spluttered as water invaded her mouth. Her arms were unable to protect her and she could not run away. Her feet slipped in the water making her arms take her weight.

It was a distraction. The vibrations had continued.

She felt her whole body vibrating in unison and nothing she could do would stop it.

Her body wanted to buckle but she was held rigid.

One, two, three, four, she lost count. Her head was going dizzy and her mind numb.

She awoke curled up on the floor, naked and dry, the now familiar satisfied ache in her groin.

"Until next time," Ann said. "I look forward to meeting your mother."

Angela was in no hurry. She now knew that time was irrelevant in here. She could wait until her legs would carry her in some sort of dignity.

She picked up her gown as the door silently closed behind her. At least this time she did not need a shower! Even her hair was bone dry and in place. She made herself a cup of hot chocolate and watched the late news.

Switching off the Telly her mind wandered back to John. Was he now tied up and squirming? Or maybe he was the one in charge. What did they do? Suck each other's dick? Or maybe some sort of anal copulation? Or was it like her, the idea being for the tied up one to have a forced orgasm? Could men have multiple orgasms? She had no real idea. Her experience with copulation and hetro-sex was actually very limited and not particularly pleasant. She decided to dismiss the whole thing from her mind. What John did was his business. What she did was becoming more public, or at least to the attention of her mother. And that idea was more than a little unsettling.

Why?

There was nothing intrinsically wrong with what she was doing? It was harming no one, not even her. And she was getting sexual satisfaction like never before. And it was not that different from what her mother had been doing, unbeknown to her, most of her life. Yet the world at large frowned on such things. It was that mixture of bondage and sex. Either was acceptable in moderation but mixing the two was taboo. You could restrain or cage someone for punishment but not pleasure. She vaguely wondered whether any criminals actually enjoyed their incarceration? Or maybe they were still plied with Bromide or some other inhibitor just in case. Could she actually learn to control her orgasms? Or maybe she would get used to the stimuli so that it was less effective thereby needing greater and more aggressive stimuli like drug or adrenaline addiction. She did get the impression that Ann was slowly making things more stringent. Would there be a point when Angela would say no? Could she refuse Ann? Maybe at the start, when she was applying things to herself, but once the bondage was complete she had no say in what happened next. And so far, she had found the endurance as stimulating as the titillation and ultimate climax. She wanted to resist, and would do so even if Ann did not demand it. But she could not help but wonder what Ann had planned this next time...
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Fri Dec 02, 2016 10:01 pm

8

They had not made any specific arrangements, obviously, and Angela was not sure how much her father was supposed to know. Clearly the details would be kept from him but would he know that they were meeting? And on what pretext?

She need not have worried. Inevitably her mother had got it all under control. It was just as well that Ann had agreed because her mother was coming like it or not. And the double meaning was not lost on Angela, even though it still sent strange goosebumps through her.

"I have some bedding for you," her mother said innocently, "I will bring it over Wednesday evening, if that's alright?"

"Are you sure mum? You don't mind?"

"Of course not, dear."

And so it was. Wednesday seemed to arrive like an express train. There was her mother with a bag of bedding and a look that could only be called expectant.

"So how does this work," she panted.

"Don't you want a drink or something?"

"Don't be silly."

"Okay, okay. Just try and calm down, please."

"I am sorry, you have no idea..."

"Actually, this time I do," she interrupted. But that does not make it any easier for me. So," she paused, deliberately, "listen carefully. I will go in first. I don't want you to take off anything. I still am not comfortable with the idea of seeing you naked, but once I am set I won't have any choice in the matter. The door will close, and then you can take your clothes off and stand as I did. The door will then open. I don't know exactly what will happen next but Ann will answer any questions you have and then offer you a try. If it is anything like normal you will have to restrain yourself, but from then on Ann is in control."

"Will I have to wait long?"

"No, part of the magic is the passing of time. What seems like a minute or two out here can be ten or fifteen minutes, or more inside. I do not know what she is planning for me or you."

Angela had never seen her mother like this. It was almost frightening, or maybe a little revolting. She stripped feeling ridiculously self conscious. She had not been naked in front of her mother for a very long time. Her mother kept a discreet distance but did not avert her eyes.

"You are keeping well," she said.

Angela stood and the door opened. She heard a feint gasp behind her.

"So it is true..."

Angela went in quickly. She surveyed the scene and her stomach leapt towards her mouth. Ann did not say anything. She did not have to.

There were two chairs less than two feet apart, facing each other. They were simple wooden chairs with relatively high backs. She could see straps on the front legs and several others on the back. To the right side of each was a side table with a gag and nipple weights. A conventional wand vibrator was taped on each seat. Angela had no doubts that it would be perfectly placed. Both she and her mother would get a full view of what was happening if her mother agreed. And Angela was almost certain that her mother would agree.

"I suppose I can refuse?" she said

"If you do you must leave," Ann said unhelpfully, "And your mother will not be allowed in."

"Then I cannot refuse," Angela concluded. "You are not making this easy for me."

"Call it one last test," Ann said.

Angela growled.

The chairs were parallel to the door so it made little difference which one she chose. She sat down and strapped her ankles to each leg of the chair and a second one just below each knee. There was a strap for her waist. The vibrator sat snugly lightly opening her vagina lips. The nipple devices had powerful clamps and a brass weight dangling down. The gag was padded leather tied behind her head with thongs. Finally there was a self locking clasp either side of the back, level with the seat for her wrists. She was now set. The door opened.

At first her mother was in shadow. The light of the room outside was brighter than the ambience inside. She saw her mother stop and take in the view.

"So where is this Ann?"

Angela mewed pathetically. Clearly she could not answer.

"I am here," Ann said, "but I have no physical form. Why are you here?"

"I am concerned about the welfare of my daughter."

"As you can see, she is perfectly safe."

"I suppose that is a matter of opinion. Did you do this?"

"I can only provide the materials. Angela has to put them on herself."

"How do I know that you mean her no harm?"

"I suppose you cannot know. You can only accept or reject my assurances. But I have also provided you with a demonstration. If you want to stay, you must take your place opposite Angela. Or you may leave."

"What if anything goes wrong?"

"Nothing that goes on in here is carried outside unless I allow it. Even if you had a heart attack and died in here you would get up and leave as if nothing had happened. But I cannot stop you having another heart attack outside if it really is your time. What matters is that Angela is in no danger while she is in here, and neither are you. The heart attack was an example not some sort of clarevoyancy."

"I think I understand."

"Are you going to stay?"

"I would not miss this for the world."

"Angela gave me that impression. You know what you must do. The wrist clamps are self locking. Everything else you must do yourself. You will find that the vibrating wand is perfectly placed for you although, currently, it is inert."

Her mother came into Angela's view. There was something slightly surreal about a naked woman with her mother's head on her. The figure was aged but not in bad condition really. She could now see clearly both the nipple piercings and the rings in her labia. There was also a tattoo that Angela knew nothing about.

Her mother did not immediately sit down but inspected Angela. Angela felt herself go hot as before. She would have loved the floor to open up and swallow her or maybe Scotty could have beamed her up. Anything to get away. But, of course, she was held firm, mostly by her own handiwork.

"Simple and effective," her mother said, with a clear tone of approval. "Right, let's get on with this."

Her mother was clearly excited. She wasted little time buckling herself to the chair. She did not even wince at the nipple clamps and weights. The gag was put on with the ease of someone who had done it many times before. One wrist, two wrists and she was set. Angela looked, and felt almost like she was looking in a mirror, except that the woman staring back was a much older version.

They waited. Angela was used to this but her mother was clearly expectant. She was not fighting her bonds but her face was now flushed, as Angela's had been. Suddenly there was a flash in her eyes and a tension in her limbs. But Angela felt nothing. Clearly her mother's vibrator was working but maybe not enough. She could see tension and maybe a little frustration in her mother.

There was a muffled howl. Angela could only guess that the vibrator had been turned off or at least down.

Watching her mother had been a good distraction from her own needs. She was getting conscious of the unfamiliar pressure on her nipples. As expected, her own vibrator started up, but now Angela expected it to stop again before she could climax. Would she be a good spectacle for her mother? For now she closed her eyes and concentrated on her own body. She tried desperately to relax and enjoy rather than push for an orgasm. She was starting to lose when it went still.

She opened her eyes to see her mother staring, almost in disbelief. May be it was disbelief, but this was Angela's domain. She knew the rules. Her goal was to resist. As she watched her mother it was clear that her goal was to climax, but Ann was having none of it.

The next burst was more powerful. Angela was convinced that it would slow down or stop again but instead she felt herself reach the point of no return. She tensed involuntarily as her body hung on the brink. Surely Ann would stop it but no. Her composure failed her. She now fought against the straps as the vibrator buzzed on relentlessly. Through a haze she could see her mother fighting also, but it was unclear whether she was in orgasmic bliss or frustration. Angela no longer cared.

Nothing else mattered now. The first one had taken her by surprise but had not been that powerful. Continued stimulation after climax was an unfathomable mixture of both pleasure and pain. Had she been free and controlling it she was almost certain that she would lighten up until the sensitivity lessened, but instead the vibrator buzzed on with what could even have been increasing speed. There was no escaping it. He hips were wedged to the back of the chair and the seat and the vibrator was actually parting her vaginal lips. Nevertheless she still tried desperately to get off the vibrations, fighting her bondage. She could not even bend forward to relieve the strain on her groin.

One, two, three, four, why did she count? five... that plateau again. For what seemed like an age she tensed and vibrated, her whole body in sync with the wand between her legs. It was almost more pain than pleasure. The release as she climaxed was out of this world.

This time the vibrator slowed, taking her down gently. She basked in the glow and the aftermath before remembering that her mother was just feet away from her.

She opened her eyes, unaware that she had closed them. The woman opposite was in the same orgasmic bliss that Angela herself had been in. Was that what she looked like? Angela could see the strain of muscles and the beads of sweat. The eyes tightly closed and the strain on her face. She could actually identify the climax when the chest tried to break free and bend over and the gasp of realisation that it was not over yet.

Angela could not tell whether the continuation was wanted or endured. She watched the build up. She watched the straining. She was almost certain that her mother was in seventh Heaven. The last big climax shuddered through. Was that relief or disappointment she could now see in her mother's face?

There was a feint click in the wrist cuffs. It would seem that this time she would have to release everything else herself. Her first action was to unclip her left nipple and she almost feinted from the pain. She quickly; released the other one and was grateful that most of her body was still being held firm. Her mother was still regaining her composure and her wrist were still held firm. Angela undid her gag. She then set about releasing the straps that held her to the chair.

"I want you to free your mother," Ann told her.

Angela resisted the temptation to ask why.

Her mother must have heard. Angela was about to undo the gag, but Ann spoke again,

"No. Do not take the gag out."

Again Angela was curious but said nothing. From her own experience she decided that it might be best to start with the nipples. She could see her mother watching but unable to either encourage or complain. It was almost reassuring to see the reaction as the blood returned to her nipples. The strain in her wrists was evident and Angela waited until she had calmed down again before continuing. Angela then released her legs before undoing the belts at her waist and chest. The wrist cuffs clicked almost simultaneous with the undoing of the last belt.

"You may take the gag out as you leave," Ann declared.

The door opened. Angela knew better than to dally now.



"Would you like something to drink before you go? It is still early, as I said, it only takes and hour of real time, no matter what happens in there."

It felt awkward. Clearly neither of them knew what to say.

"Wow, what a ride," her mother said eventually. "Thank you for that. You have made your mother very happy, if a little jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Yes, I have waited a lifetime for such an experience, and may never get another one."

"Oh I don't know. Ann may let you in again."

"She might, but I saw how embarrassed you were. No, this is your play not mine. I am satisfied that you are in no danger. Let nothing more be said of it. And that includes my self bondage games."

"But,"

"No buts. I am getting too old for this anyway and you do not need the added pressure of looking after your mother's sexual fantasies."

"We shall see," Angela said quietly.

"No, I will be off. Thanks again. You are a very lucky girl."

She watched her mother get into the car and drive away. Part of her wanted to be able to accommodate her mother, and the rest was relieved that she did not have to. She closed the front door onto the world and made herself a hot chocolate.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Wed Dec 07, 2016 7:14 pm

9

With her mother off her back, at least for now, Angela felt less pressurised and stressed. In truth, the so called test had been easy enough. Once she had immobilised herself things had been out of her control. In many ways it had not been her mother, just another woman and it was not as if she had touched her sexually herself. The act of untying had not caused any problems either making her think that possibly she could rescue her mother in an emergency without too much embarrassment. Her mother had nullified the arrangement for now, but maybe that had been a thing of the moment. Angela was certain that her mother would go back to her self bondage, looking for that elusive thrill. It occurred to Angela that she might even be able to provide it, even without Ann's help, but to do so would breach several moral codes of modern society. Perhaps she could hire a professional Dominatrix? Her mother would probably not go for that and her father would be even less enamoured if he found out.

Angela had read somewhere that men think of sex every 9 minutes or so. It seemed a little exaggerated, and probably not true all the time. Perhaps when not occupied? What was becoming clear was that she was now thinking about sex, or at least bondage sex, most of her solitary time, even while driving. She was becoming a little obsessed and it could not be healthy, could it?

So far she had managed to limit herself to no more than once a week. The chastity device had not really bothered her. Yes, she had used her vibrator regularly, but not every night, and maybe, even, not every week. Her days of surfing the Net for sexual gratification were long gone. She now had the real thing so pictures, or even videos had little to offer her. She had looked up Zentai suits, just for interest. There were links to mummification or rubber encasement implying that these were either similar or progressions from Zentai. As Angela had no control over what happened in the room it was sort of academic, but Angela found herself wondering whether she would like such things? She was not conscious of any sort of claustrophobia or aversions to rubber but, on the other hand, had no real cravings or anticipations for them either. She guessed that it would be quite difficult to mummify yourself although she could envisage standing on a turntable which, once set in motion would do it automatically. Was that really self bondage? Come to think of it, what she was doing was more than what her mother was capable of on her own. She had said as much. One thing was certain: she had no desires to try anything on her own, outside the room.

She seemed to have more energy and focus than before. Her work metrics were up and she had regained some of the enthusiasm and enjoyment from her work that had been fading with familiarity and repetition. Even her friends had noticed a change which she was finding hard to explain away.

"She's got a new fellah," one had suggested.

Her denials had been met with disbelief.

"I am enjoying being in my own house," she said. It was perfectly true, but...

"Well I am getting married."

"Who?"

"When?"

"I didn't even know you were seeing anybody."

The gasps came from all directions, Angela included.

Marie showed off her ring. It must have set someone back half a year's wages at least.

"Wow!"

"Come on then, spill the beans. Who is he and why haven't we heard about him?"

"Well it's not something we tend to discuss," Marie said defensively. "I am sure that I have mentioned Paul before now. I met him at an office social. We sort of clicked and have been seeing each other for some time. Then he gave me this. I hadn't seen it coming, but, I said yes."

"Have you set a date?"

"No, he doesn't want to rush into it. I am meeting his parents next week."

"You haven't even met his parents?"

"No, and he hasn't met mine either."

"Have you slept with him?"

"Slept yes, but not had sex. He wants to keep that until our wedding night."

"How corny."

"I think it's cute. Does that mean he's a virgin?"

"Well I am."

"Surely not!"

"I am, honest."

Angela could actually believe it. There was often banter about sexual encounters but she was almost certain that Marie had always kept in the background on those occasions.

"Well, I think you should try before you buy."

Barbara, or 'Babs' as she was usually known, was always a bit outspoken.

"Oh I don't know." Angela chirped in, "When I lost my virginity it hurt like hell. Perhaps it would put her off."

"Too late if you're already married."
"I think that's my point," Angela said.

"Don't spoil it for her. I have always enjoyed my sex."

"You're just a slut."

They giggled.

Angela was quite pleased that the conversation had veered away from her, despite her little revelation about her first, and little did they know, only, sexual encounter.

The rest of the evening was spent discussing boyfriends and Paul in particular. Angela was able to talk about John without revealing his little secret, or her's for that matter. They then started planning a hen night.

"Hold on," Marie said, "we haven't set a date yet. It might not be for a year or more."

"It will take that long to find a date for the Chippendales."

"I am not sure they do private shows, especially in England"

"I doubt that we could afford them either."

"I am sure we can come up with something, though."

"I am regretting telling you already."

"Well a rock like that would have been hard to explain away."

"I guess so."

Angela had more mixed feelings about the news when she thought about it back in her house. It probably marked the start of the break up of the group, and she had got used to it. The last thing she wanted was to become isolated so that she spent more and more time seeking thrills under Ann's tender mercies. She would do everything she could to keep things going even if the numbers started to dwindle due to changes in circumstances or just plain moving on.

As it was her next meeting with John was a little strained. She was not sure whether to bring up the subject of his boyfriend and, or, bondage. As it happened he actually asked her directly,

"Have you ever been tied up?"

She had half anticipated the question and prepared a noncommittal answer.

"I was once captured in a game at camp, but it wasn't sexual. They tied me to the tent pole. It was just a bit of fun I suppose."

It was a complete fantasy but John was not to know it.

"Aren't you even curious?"

"I suppose so, but it's none of my business really."

"The first time he tied me up I thought I had pissed myself, but it wasn't piss."

"Too much information," Angel said quietly. "I am pleased for you, I really am, but what you get up to is between you."

"Sorry, I don't want to embarrass you."

"I am not embarrassed, just not particularly interested," she lied. In truth, she was more than curious but afraid of where it might lead.

"Just tell me one thing, do you suck his dick?"

"First time I almost choked, but yes, I do it, usually when he has tied my hands."

She thought of a few more things to ask but decided to bide her time. Clearly it was going to become a regular topic of conversation and it might be wise to keep it focussed on him rather than risking him getting wind of what she was now up to. She would have to be careful not to sound too knowledgeable.

"I can't say that I have thought much about how two men would have sex. I mean it's not like you can have intercourse."

"The first time he entered my ass I thought I would burst but I quite like it now."

"Again, too much information."

Her mind immediately went back to when Ann made something go into her ass. She knew exactly what John meant but was less convinced about ever liking it.

And of course the next Sunday lunch was a heady cocktail of secrets, and unspoken questions and answers.

"No I haven't been in the room again since," Angela said in a quiet moment.

Her mother raised an eyebrow. Probably she would have gone back in a shot, but Angela was not as hooked as she was and was desperate not to be.

"Have you tied yourself up since?"

The reaction told her even before her mum had admitted it.

"If you are going to, and I am not telling you not to, you must promise me that you have covered all emergencies and will ask me if you haven't."

"But you said..."

"Doesn't matter what I said before, I am saying this now." Angela put as much authority into her voice as possible. "Promise?"

Her mother looked both flushed and indecisive.

"Promise!" Angela repeated as firm as she could.

At that moment her father returned to the room.

"Everything all right, I thought I heard shouting."

"No just a little misunderstanding," Angela said quickly. "But I think was have sussed it, haven't we mum?"

She threw a look at her mother that would melt ice.

"Yes, of course, dear," was the submissive response.

They managed to defuse things enough not to arouse further suspicions, but before she went home Angela made sure that her mother had really agreed.

Back in the calm of her own house Angela felt an uncontrollable urge. It was not too late to scratch it either. Having ensured that the place was secure and that she would not be disturbed she presented herself, naked. The door opened.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Fri Dec 30, 2016 12:25 pm

10


The room was bare, apart from a little pile of rope and some handcuffs. The light was subdued so that the edges of the room were in darkness. In truth Angela was not sure how big this room actually was? It seemed to be outside both space and, of course, time.

"Good evening Angela," Ann said, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Hi," she replied.

"Do you know what a Frog-tie is?"

"I think so, doubling back the legs but not tying them together."

"Good, go ahead then."

"What about my hands?"

"We will come to that in a minute. First your legs."

"I have never done it, though. How do I proceed?"

"A loop around your ankle, Doubled and through, then several turns over the thigh, catch and split and cinch."

Angela obeyed. It was awkward trying to get at the rope under her leg to cinch it but she just about managed it. The second one was a bit easier, perhaps because it was on her left side and her right hand had more dexterity.

"Now tie your breasts like I showed you before."

"Okay."

"Now tie a double length around your waist with the handcuffs at your back, but don't put them on yet."

She obeyed again.

"Now take the longer length. double it and take it around your upper body above your breast but with your arms inside it, about four turns should do then split the ends, catching one inside the original loop and tying them off to make a band of rope. Now take the last length, double it and cinch under your left arm, back once then take it over your chest and cinch under the other arm, split and tie off.

"Interesting."

"Now cuff yourself."

Even as she moved her arms toward her back she felt the upper band pulling at them. When her wrists were secure she had virtually no movement in her arms.

"Very clever," she murmured, "now what?"

"Now you wait."

"Wait for what?"

The light went out.

It was as if she had her eyes closed, but they were wide open. This was blackness like she had never known, or knew existed. She literally could not see a thing. She shivered involuntarily.

She was kneeling, of course, her legs comfortably apart. She was now conscious that her sex was completely exposed, but there was nothing here, was there? She strained her ears.

Nothing.

Was it her imagination or had the temperature dropped? She was definitely shivering, but was it cold or fear?

She squirmed. It was pointless and she knew it. The handcuffs would stay locked until Ann released them, and the ropes were secured by her own hands.

She heard something. A noise. A rushing perhaps? No, lost of tapping, like, oh God no! little feet? Which direction?

She closed her legs but that made her kneeling precarious. She did not want to fall over.

It was getting closer.

Still she could see nothing.

They were on her. She had not idea what they were. Too big to be ants, too small to be rodents. They went up her legs and onto her body. For now her breasts seemed inaccessible until something found the top route. She was covered up to her neck. Some had even managed to get between her legs at the back.

How long?

She had no idea. It could have been minutes, or even seconds but it felt like hours. She knelt almost motionless, her mouth tightly shut, her eyes also, Nothing reached her face but her body tingled like never before. Mercifully, there was no pain.

Then they were gone. Like a passing storm or a miniature stampede She was left in silence her body still tingling and feeling like it was being crawled on.

She felt a familiar vibration between her legs and opened them slightly.
She almost did not hear the little creatures return.

Her senses went wild,

She fought to control herself as the swarm returned but the vibrations were now more powerful. She was rocking, She had to open her legs and the void was immediately filled. She now shook and twisted trying to dislodge what ever they were but she was now starting to shake, her body in tune with the relentless vibrations.

Eventually the vibrator won, as it was always going to.

She might have fallen over while the hoard was there, she might not, she could not be certain. The climaxes made her see stars as if the room had been set alight with fireworks.

She passed out her senses overloaded.

She was still bound, She struggled back to her knees confused. The light was back.

"So what were they?"

One little cockroach looked at her and then scurried away.

"They are actually very clean animals despite their reputation."

"But why?"

"Fear is a powerful stimulant. Whether it is actual, or just perceived, it hightens the senses and makes your climaxes more powerful. I make no apologies. You come, you accept what I give."

"Can I go now?"

The handcuffs sprung open.

"Until next time."

She had to untie herself. Several of the knots had over tightened but Ann offered no assistance, not even a pair of scissors or a knife. Eventually she was free. She hurried out and upstairs. She desperately needed a shower.

Despite everything she slept soundly with no nightmarish visions of swarming roaches. Perhaps even her subconscious was cleansed by the magic of the room? No consequences? Not even mental trauma? What else would Ann come up with? She had suggested actual bodily harm or even death was possible? The orgasms this time had been out of this world! She would have to wait and see if the next ones would match or even better them,
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Wed Mar 08, 2017 7:48 pm

11

The phone call, when it came, was unexpected. It was brief and to the point.

"I am going to tie myself up for a few hours. Please ring me around nine. If I don't answer then you had better come and rescue me."

She waited for an acknowledgement and then hung up. Angela found herself staring at the phone still in her hands. In many ways she was pleased, but she was also a bit nonplussed. She decided to set an alarm on her phone and then continue as if nothing had happened. All very well in theory, but in practice she couldn't stop thinking about it. What was she doing? How was she tying herself? What sort of release mechanism? Was she trying to get herself off? She may never know. Hopefully, in fact, she would not know. She would ring up, have a brief chat and hang up again.

She busied herself with some laundry, and then vacuumed through the house. She was not particularly fastidious and had half expected the house to slowly disappear under an ever increasing film of dust and grime. In truth she could afford to hire a cleaner but she was not certain whether Ann would consider them either a threat or a new play thing. Perhaps she would ignore them? Perhaps she should ask? As it was she had found herself conscientious enough. The place was tidy and reasonably clean.

She took yet another look at the clock. It was barely seven. Knowing the system she could afford her own play time and still have an hour to spare. She dismissed that idea immediately. Besides, it was only a few days since her last visit.

She flicked through the channels on the TV with growing boredom and frustration. There must be 400 or more channels and yet there was nothing she would even consider let alone actually want to watch. As yet she had resisted subscribing to films and had no real interest in sports other than maybe the Olympics and the like. The problem was that she really didn't know what she wanted to watch, so finding it was almost impossible. She was not in the mood for quizzes or puzzles. Her culinary skills rarely passed opening a tin or packet, She had even got an app on her phone to connect to various takeaway shops that would deliver right to her door. Eventually she found a documentary about the life trials of the Cheetah.

Still an hour to go.

She picked up the book she had on the go and lost herself in romantic intrigue. It was neither kinky nor even overtly erotic.

The alarm made her jump. She forced herself not to rush. The phone rang once, twice, three times and was answered.

"Hi, there. No problems. Not that I expected there to be any, but I did promise."

"And I am glad you did as I asked."

She fought the urge to ask for details, or even if it had been enjoyable.

"I will let you get back to your evening then."

Angela put the phone down. She realised that, despite the fact that absolutely nothing had gone wrong, she was breathing heavily and her heart was racing. How could she not know that her mother tied herself up? Surely there must have been some sort of clue? But she could not think of anything. Any evidence, she guessed, would have been in the bedroom and although it was never forbidden Angela had always stayed out once she has passed the stage of seeking refuge in her mother's bed to keep the night terrors at bay.

She shrugged. If she ever got around to starting a family herself, perhaps there would be secrets that she might wish to keep from her children? At present the whole children thing seemed a little unlikely what with Ann being very much lesbian orientated.

Her mind wandered over to John. He was still in the background, even now. Had she feelings for him? She was not certain, and to her mind that sort of meant no. She had always believed that she would know when the right man came along. John was just, John. He had always been there. He was almost the brother she had never had. She had never seen him naked. she had never seen any man naked, except fleetingly on a film or TV screen. And now he was gay Or maybe he wasn't? Perhaps it was the bondage rather than the partner that he found so exciting? Certainly, in her own case, it was the titillation and orgasms that kept her coming back for more. Perhaps John would react differently to her if she admitted a similar interest? She was not convinced that she was ready for that yet. And there were certain other dynamics involved if the partner was male. She had never actually sucked a dick let alone taken sperm in her mouth. John had also indicated an interest in anal sex. Would that be her using a strap on? Or would he expect to enter her that way as well as the conventional way? Would he look to giver her pleasure or would he be more interested in his own pleasure? And of course there was her own behaviour to consider. At present she was always the one tied up and helpless. Could she actually dominate? Did she actually want to dominate? What was in it for her?

Some of these questions were almost impossible to answer and may not be resolved until or unless the situations arose. Nevertheless she had raised the ideas in her mind and they did not seem to be easily dismissed.

For the first time Angela wished that she could satisfy the urge that had grown without Ann's consent or, more accurately, participation. For the second time that night she resisted the temptation to return to the room. She vaguely wondered whether Ann was fully aware of her thoughts.

She was unable to give the book further attention. A repeated flick through the channels proved equally fruitless. She resolved to go to bed.

Her mind would not let her sleep.

She was now naked. All she had to do was to go back down stairs and stand... She even considered trying to chain herself to the bed to prevent herself doing so. And then spent the next few minutes pondering the ramifications of these thoughts and the psychological hyperbolae involved.

Eventually, despite herself, she slept, the alarm waking her with a jolt. Another day.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Wed Mar 29, 2017 7:33 pm

12


Angela had mixed feelings as she stood at the wall, waiting. The last session had been a little uncomfortable. Not because of the position, that had been fairly mundane, but the inclusion of bugs. She had never been a fan of the reality shows that played around with such things. She was not particularly phobic, not of insects, nor spiders, nor any creature specifically, although stings frightened her a bit. A cousin of hers had an allergy that could kill her within an hour when stung if not treated. She, herself, had been stung and not had the same reaction, but such things can still play on the mind.

The wall opened, silently, as usual. The light seemed bright. The floor was soft. The atmosphere was warm and friendly. It was a bedroom. Not her's this time. This was opulent to the extreme with soft carpet and space around the bed. The sheet looked like silk.

The bed was at least a double, if not king size. A four poster with drapes and decorated fittings. Near each corner there was a leather cuff, lined with fur. Obviously each cuff was attached to an anchor point, probably at the base of the posts.. The chains could have been gold, but gold is soft and malleable. She doubted that she would be able to just pull herself free if, and when she put the cuffs on. There were bedside cabinets either side but only ornamental lamps adorned them.

"This is my bedroom."

"Your bedroom? I thought you lived here?"

"It was a long time ago. The furnishings have changed many times."

"I do not think this bed would fit in my room."

"The house has also changed."

Angela shrugged, mentally at least. It mattered little now. She was pretty sure what was expected of her, but she was in no rush.

"It looks very comfortable, even rich."

"I did not want for much. At least in home comforts," she corrected, "my social life was a little more complicated. Not only was I a lesbian, I was also a witch."

"Was there any more furniture?"

"You seem reluctant to lie down."

Perhaps Ann was sounding irritated.

"Are you in a hurry then?" Angela answered

There was a pregnant pause.

"I guess not. Time has little meaning here."

The sheet was indeed silk, or as good as, Angela still could not decide what was real here. There was no gag or other adornments so she buckled each ankle. There was plenty of slack in the chains and she was able to get her hands together to cuff herself, but, as soon as she did so there was a whirring noise and her limbs were drawn taught.

She let out a short gasp.

"You didn't think you were going to get that much freedom did you?"

This time Angela heard mocking in the voice.

The bondage was simple, yet she felt both more restricted and definitely more exposed that ever before. She squirmed, involuntarily.

"Excellent."

Angela gasped again.

Standing by the bed was a woman. The face was the one in the picture. She looked middle aged, with a soft complexion, her black hair controlled by a head band. She wore ornate dangling ear rings. Her shoulders were bare. around her torso was a leather basque which hugged her shapely body, allowing the tops of her breasts to be seen. The skirt was almost non-existent and could never have been from the middle Ages or wherever she claimed to be from. Black stringed leggings disappeared out of her view. She assumed that there would be some sort of leather footwear.

"I thought you had no bodily form?" Angela managed to croak.

"This is not my body as such. I have no feelings. I cannot be pleasured nor hurt, but I have full control, like anything else in this room.

She casually flicked Angela's left nipple.

"And you will feel for the both of us. Now it is time for you to be silent."

Angela had never seen the device that was suddenly presented to her mouth. She did not really see it now, only catching a glimpse of leather. There seemed little point in trying to refuse it. Her mouth was filled with what must have been rubber which expanded filling the cavity while the outer part pressed against her lips. She had little doubt that any attempted noises would be completely muffled although she could not resist trying.

Her ears did not even hear a whimper, but she could feel a vibration in her throat to indicate that she had tried.

There was another whirling noise and she found her arms being raised. The chains were not attached to the base, but running down grooves in the posts meaning that they could raise or lower. She was now held taught at a roughly 45 degree angle to the bed, her head unsupported.

Her eyes locked onto the woman, watching her pick up something and then crouch slightly under her left arm so as to have access to her bottom. She could not prevent it being invaded. The grunt went unnoticed, probably unheard, definitely of no consequence..

The soulless mechanism returned her to the bed, her own weight ensuring that the phallus would remain where it had been placed.

Ann was fiddling with something else. It was some sort of pump. Angela watched in morbid fascination as it was placed onto her nipple, depositing a tube that pulled her nipple into itself. It did not really hurt, but it raised her libido by a notch. She watched mutely as the process was repeated on the other nipple.

"Now for the crowning glory," Ann said triumphantly.

Angela's eyes bulged. The phallus must have been three inches in diameter and eight inches long. She would never accommodate it!

Once again she watched, unable to do anything. Ann lubricated the thing in full view and then placed it at her vaginal lips. Angela shook her head wildly, trying to make some sort of complaint but it was of no use. She was being split asunder.

When she had finished it was as if Angela had a cock of her own. She had not realised that it was double ended, but now she could just about see a glittering phallus in her lower vision. Glittering with lubricant. Surely Ann was not going to impale herself on it? Then again, why not, she would not feel a thing!

"Allow me to raise you back up so that you have a grand stand view," Ann said.

Clearly it was out of Angela's control. Her muscles were desperately trying to expel the intruders below her waist and failing. Her arms were beginning to ache from the strain.

Ann stood in full view.

"Have you ever looked at a woman? I mean really looked?"

Angela shook her head. In truth she never been tempted, let alone had the opportunity. Even at school the girls around her had showed modesty when showering or changing and showing any sort of interest would have been frowned upon. Now she had little choice unless she closed her eyes.

The strip was slow and erotic. Ann caressed her self as she removed each item. She tweaked her own nipples which duly swelled, possibly more than was natural, but who knows? Eventually there was a completely naked woman less than two feet from her.

As if from nowhere, well this was a fantasy room, Ann pulled up a chaise longue and draped herself onto it with her legs spread. She produced a smaller dildo and played with herself. She had claimed no feelings but she clearly knew what it was supposed to feel like and the facsimile body was behaving for all the world like someone in orgasmic bliss, complete with fluid leakage. Despite herself, Angela was getting more and more turned on.

The apparition approached her as the mechanism, lowered her back down.

"I think those things will have doe their job now," she mused.

With twist and tug, each nipple was released for its glass cage. And before she knew it Ann was sucking each one eagerly.

Angela threw back her head and screamed noiselessly. She had never felt anything like this. It was not really pain, but it was very intense.

"Let's have that gag off", Ann said.

But before she could say anything her mouth was covered by Ann's and her tongue explored where the rubber filling had been. Angela almost gagged, but realised that even this was sending her libido to new heights.

Ann pulled away.

"No words, or the gag goes back," she warned. "Time for the ride of your life."

Angela watched as Ann impaled herself. with consummate ease. She then started fucking.

Even from the first push Angela was in new territory. When she lost her virginity it had been painful but this was something else. He whole body shook as the phallus bounced against her insides. By default her clitoris was being rubbed a bit but this was no ordinary clitoral orgasm, it was building up deep inside in places she never knew existed. She was sweating. She was shaking. She was straining. She was cumming!

Her body was still stretched tight. There was nowhere to buck or bend. Instead the convulsion when it came ripped through her whole body like a shock wave. But Ann was still going. Like a machine with no heart, Ann was still pounding herself against the phallus and her fingers gripped each nipple and twisted.

This time the scream was piercing.

Was it pain or pleasure? Angela neither knew nor cared, but mercifully Ann dismounted.

Angela bit back a most unlady like expletive.

Almost immediately the chains slackened and Ann was undoing them. Soo her body was free of restraint and intruders.

"Will you come for a cuddle?"

Angela only hesitated for a moment. Ann enveloped her in arms and legs.

"Go on, you can have a nipple."

Her breast was so close, It took such a little movement. Angela sucked, expecting nothing but feeling somehow comforted. Then tasted something sweet. She stopped for a moment.

"Don't worry, this is fantasy. I can make it whisky if you want it."

"Milk will be fine," she mumbled

She lost track of how long they lay there.

Eventually she prised herself free and staggered toward the wall.

"Don't be too long," Ann whispered after her.

Angela made it to the safety of her own bed and sank into a deep sleep.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Fri May 05, 2017 9:47 pm

13

Angela was no a lesbian. At least she did not think she was. It mattered little that the sexual persona in the room was female. What mattered was the way she, Angela, reacted to the bondage and stimulation. If anything it was the bondage, not the feminine interaction that turned her on. She had been basically fucked last time albeit by a dildo rather than a real penis, but apart from the size, she doubted the feelings would have been that different. However, she might find it hard to prove things one way or the other unless she indulged in bondage sex with a man as opposed to the simulations in the room.

Her record with men was almost nil. John had never got past the childhood friendship and his declaration of being gay might be seen as a halt in that direction. Unless, of course, John was not actually gay. It could be that he was basically sexually naive and the bondage was just a motivation or even a distraction. She resolved to try and find out, one way or the other, which would, almost certainly, involve them in some sort of bondage activity. She had no idea how she would react to a tied up man but it did not freak her out as such. If she was the one tied up? There was little he could do that had not already been done to her. That may itself be a little naive but, once bound, it was out of her control.

She also needed to know more about why her mother needed to tie herself up? It was clearly sexual, but why could she not get what she needed from her husband? Especially as he clearly had not only no interest, but a distinct aversion to bondage that boarded on revulsion.

In the mean time there was the preparations for the big wedding and the consequences that meant to the girlie group. There was no doubt in her mind that her girl friends were all both heterosexual and almost certainly straight as an arrow in all ways. Although, the fact that she had suppressed her bondage activities might suggest that there would be other secrets hidden away from view. But this was one area that she was less keen to delve into in case it backfired and revealed too much about herself in the process.

At the moment they were still organising the hen night.

Marie had succumbed at last to the badgering and admitted that the marriage date was only a few months away. She had also insisted that they all attended as bridesmaids, with no one being specifically the head maid. There had been some half hearted complaints but it was settled. Marie had a rather rich God mother who was willing to kit them all out.

"Sounds awfully grand," Babs declared.

"But you can keep the dresses," Marie said magnanimously.

They decided on a budget for the hen night and a venue. The entertainment would be less famous than the Chippendales but promised a good eyeful or two. Angela was relieved that they were not planning any sort of abduction or trial for the hapless bride. The subject had reared its ugly head while Marie powdered her nose, but was dismissed quickly without Angela having to say anything.

"I would not appreciate it if it was me," she later admitted, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual.

"We just want a good fun evening."

The meeting drifted apart and Angela returned home with a smile on her face.

She decided to ring her mother.

"Can we have that little talk you promised? You know the one about how you got into self bondage?"

There was clearly some reluctance on her mother's part but they arranged to go shopping at the weekend and would conclude it at her house. She half expected her mother to demand another session but, even if the thought was there it was never expressed. And Angela was not going to offer it.

That just left John.

They still met regularly for lunch so she had the opportunity, but the courage was a little harder to muster.

"How's it going with your boy friend?"

"To be honest I am getting a little bored with it."

Angela raised her eyebrows.

"I tie him up, or he ties me up. The bound one sucks off the other one, or maybe gets fucked up the ass. He tends to prefer to do that even though I don't mind sucking Him off."

"I can't say I have ever done that," she admitted.

"I nearly threw up first time and even now I gag a bit, but apart from being a bit hot and salty there's not much to it. It's supposed to be quite good for you, so I am told.

"Does the tied up one get an orgasm?"

"No, that's not the idea."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, we just have never done it like that. Although I did spontaneously ejaculate which was a bit embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?

John seemed a little reluctant to expound. Angela decided not to push and changed tack.

"Was it your idea or his? The bondage I mean."

"His."

"Why did you try it?"

"I am not sure really. I guess I didn't really fancy sucking a dick without being forced to."

"That doesn't sound like someone who is gay."

John didn't reply.

Angela let him think for a while.

"What if I tied you up and then made you orgasm."

The look on his face was priceless. It was a confused mixture of shock and something else, possibly excitement. But then it passed.

""What do you know about bondage?"

Angela kept a straight face.

"Why, don't you think a woman can tie a man up?"

"There are professionals who do it all the time, but..."

"But I am not a professional?"

He was now looking flummoxed, almost embarrassed.

"Well you aren't, are you."

It was not a question.

"But I might surprise you."

"But why would you?"

"I think I still have feelings for you," she began," and I am not convinced that you are really gay," she paused. "And you might even have feelings for me."

"I have never thought of you in that way. You are more like a sister."

"Have you never thought of having sex with me?"

He suddenly went bright red. She desperately tried to hide a smirk.

"That settles it."

He looked confused again.

"I am going to come round to your house, tie you up and have my wicked way with you. I assume you have your own ropes and stuff?

"We use leather cuffs.."

"Then I will bring some rope with me."

"But I haven't said yes."

"You haven't said no either."

"But."

"Tell you what. I will give you a chance to escape. If you can't then you will have to accept what ever I do. Is that fair?"

"I guess so."

"Right, when then?"

"Um."

"When are you next seeing this boyfriend of yours?"

"We haven't arranged anything. I usually see him on Thursdays but I was thinking of cancelling."

"Do so. Tell him you are otherwise engaged."

"But what if he comes round anyway?"

"He will have to deal with me."

She watched his face showing every emotion from terror, through fear to anticipation.

"If you are sure."

"I am. I will see you Thursday night, what time?"

"He normally comes at 7.30"

She bit back a quip about what time he arrived at his house.

"I will be there at 7."

"Okay."

She got up and left so as not to give him a chance to change his mind. Walking back to the car she realised that she was almost panting. Her mind was racing, but she could not get her thoughts in order. Where to buy rope and how much. How to tie him. What to do with him. Could she suck him off? Would it be better just to mount him? She had better get a pill just in case. She realised also that she was now horny as hell, but that would have to wait.

One more thought crossed her mind. Ann would probably know, if not already. Should she confront it now or wait until the deed was done? What if it failed and he really was gay? She could be burning a bridge to a lifetime of sexual adventure and satisfaction. On the other hand, if John still had feelings that could be ignited, she could be having her own wedding. Then they would have to find a new home, but, she resolved, she would ensure that the new owner was suitable for Anne.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Sun May 14, 2017 6:06 pm

14


Angela could still remember when her father had tried to talk to her about the facts of life. It had been one of the most awkward ten minutes of her childhood, probably her whole life. Clearly he had felt some sort of obligation, based on tradition maybe, but his knowledge, especially about a girl's perspective, had been woefully lacking. She had never really talked about such things with her mother other than her recent revelations. Now she had an actual need. Her mother could provide, not only insight into self bondage, but also advice as to what she might need to tie John up successfully. She was not quite sure how she would bring this second subject up, or how her mother would react to the implications it provided. She would have to admit their current platonic relationship along with John's secrets, which she may not really be at liberty to reveal.

The reality turned out to be nearly as awkward as that time so long ago, at least for the shopping part. There was not the usual banter nor was there any real focus. Eventually her mother broke the uneasy silence.

"Your father has guessed that something is up. If you want to come back with me instead he has promised to keep out of the way."

"If you are sure."

"Of course. He was a bit put out when the subject first came up but I have convinced him that I had nothing to do with your interest and that, having brought it up, even he can see that my experiences must be valuable."

"But I thought he was dead against it?"

"He is, but he has also lived with me for nearly forty years. "

Angela had a renewed respect for her father.

"I don't suppose that he has a kink of his own?"

"That would be telling."

The glint in her eye and the tone of voice convinced Angela that there might be a skeleton still hidden somewhere that she may never find. She was not going to go looking for it now, that much was certain.

"Do you want a cup of tea before we start?"

"Maybe later."

"I understand. Let's go upstairs."

Another memory flew into Angela's mind. At sixteen she had quite easily passed as an adult and on one night out had come home absolutely plastered. She had thrown up in her bed and even stuffed her nightie down the toilet. In truth she had little or no memory of that part, but what she did remember was the night after. Normally it was her father who administered the discipline in the house but this time it had been her mother. Angela had never seen her like it before and had hoped never to see it again. She had felt both ashamed, embarrassed but even worse was the fact that her mother refused to punish her. That look, it sent shivers even now. She followed her mother, each step getting heavier. She stood at the entrance to the master bedroom, almost afraid to go in. Her mother was perched on the edge of the bed. Suddenly her face softened,

"Now, " she said brightly, "what can I tell you?"

Inexplicably Angela burst into tears.

"It's alright," her mother reassured her, "I am not angry with you. I want to help. I really do. Come on, sit down."

"Not yet," Angela began. "I am sorry, I have no idea where that came from."

"You are probably embarrassed. I was never able to talk about it with my parents, although I think they almost certainly knew."

"How young were you when you started?"

"Around puberty."

"How? why?"

"How is with my dressing gown belt. Why is not a simple answer."

"Go, on."

"Do you remember your first period?"

"Yes, I thought I was bleeding to death."

"And you came straight to me?"

"Yes."

"I am pleased. Unfortunately my parents were not so approachable."

"How do you mean?"

"I was scared stiff of my father and my Mother was a mouse. She could not stand up to him. Don't get me wrong he did not beat her, or me for that matter, but he was a puritan. A religious fanatic."

"I seemed to remember him going on allot about God and church and stuff."

"He had mellowed a bit by the time you knew him."

"Mellowed?"

"Sex was a four letter word as was anything related to it."

"Seems amazing he had any children at all, but, you were one of eight weren't you?

"He did not believe in birth control. After your granddad died your nan told me a few things. I am not sure why. Apparently procreation was part of the bible. I think that nowadays it would be called domestic rape. Actually it was probably coined and recognised already, but your nan would never have dared complain, let alone seek outside help."

She continued,

"I was not green. I knew what menstruation was. My elder sisters made sure of that and told me how to deal with it, but it felt dirty. I didn't want anyone to see so I stayed in bed. I fantasised about being kidnapped and tied my wrists to the bed head. It was all very innocent, but my eldest sister came in and found me. She thought it funny and decided to make it real and proceeded to tie my feet and then made sure I could not get my hands free either. She stuffed a towel between my legs and left me."

"Did you try and escape?"

"At first, yes but it was no use. I never found out how come she could tie that well. At the time I didn't think about that. I reverted back to my fantasy. I remember being a little disappointed when she came back to free me. That was until she only untied my legs. She wiped me out. I had not bled much. Unfortunately I climaxed. I say unfortunately. I don't think it was deliberate, but I am sure she knew it had happened. She never said anything though."

"Did she ever do it again?"

"No. And I don't think she knew what she started. I was very careful not to get caught again, although I had a few close calls I can tell you."

"Was it always sexual?"

"Not at first, no. But when I started masturbating it was a logical progression. The orgasms were stronger but I came too quickly. I still do, which is why I don't always have stimulation."

"Isn't that frustrating?"

"Of course, but that's the whole point."

"I hadn't really thought of it like that. With Anne it marks the end of the session."

"So you try and prevent it?"

"I haven't quite worked out how to, actually."

"With men it is even more marked. One they climax they go flaccid. Unless it turns them on, I had one friend who had an almost permanent hard on when tied up."

"You mean dad was not the first?"

There was another twinkle in her mother's eyes.

"When I left home I was a little promiscuous."

"But why did you end up marrying someone who does not like bondage?"

"Your father is a wonderful man and we are almost soul mates. It is only our sexual preferences that differ wildly and we have learnt to cope with that."

"Did you ever tie him up?"

"Yes, but he didn't like it. I kept him on edge for nearly an hour."

Angela felt her heart jump.

"How?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me I have raised a naive girl?"

It was Angela's turn to blush. She felt herself go hot from head to toe."

"I am not a virgin, but I have never jerked a man off let alone sucked his dick." She managed to blurt out.

"Do I get the impression you are thinking of doing one or the other?"

Angela wished the floor would open up and swallow her. Her mother was clearly amused.

"Do I know him?"

She had no choice now but to tell all.

"It's John. But its a little more complicated than that."

She babbled out the whole thing about his gay bondage activities.

"...and I have told him that I will tie him up and have my wicked way with him, but..."

"Now it all makes sense."

"It does?"

"Absolutely. Unfortunately I don't think your father would agree to a demonstration. I am not sure I could either.

"Neither am I. It was bad enough seeing you orgasm in front of me. I do not think I could cope with seeing you work on dad."

Her mother reached into her drawer. The vibrating phallus was almost identical to Angela's own.

"Imagine this is his dick. Along the base there is a tube. It carries the sperm to the tip. If you press firmly you can stop it, like you would a hose pipe, but make sure he is completely immobile, he will go crazy. After a minute or so it will dissipate. If you are lucky, and or, skilful, you can keep him on the edge almost indefinitely. With your dad it was easy because the bondage did not turn him on, in fact it turned him off so I had to work to keep him up. If the bondage is a turn on he may come anyway. You might try a cock ring but they don't always stop it."

"What about sucking him off?"

"Sucking is a misnomer. Do that and he wont thank you for it. The idea is to simulate your vagina. You hold it with your lips so that his skin moves up and down. That is what stimulates not some sort of compression. or even a vacuum. That can actually damage him.

"Will I choke?"

"Probably, at least the first time. It is only natural. He will be so excited that it will hit the back of your throat before you know it. It's hot and salty but you won't taste it until afterwards. If you can swallow without dribbling he will love you for ever. I will admit it took me a while to master it and you have only got one go. I could give you a sort of imitation."

"How do you mean?"

"A syringe with hot salty water. I have heard it can work but have never tried it."

"I think I will pass. I doubt that I will keep him off climax long enough to do it."

"Unless you let him come."

"What do you mean? I thought you said he will go flaccid?"

"Precisely but if you don't untie him, and he is turned on by bondage, he will recover. Some men can do it more than once, some can't. He should know whether he can or not, but I am not sure how you ask him. It is a bit like testing his manhood."

"I guess it will depend on whether he is turned on by bondage or whether it was just a means to an end. And to be honest, that is the whole point of doing it. To try and find that out."

"Is he worth it?"

"I have always thought the we would get together. I do like being in his company and we seem to have much to talk about when we meet.."

"What about Anne?"

"I can't marry her, or have children, or even lead a normal life with her. In truth she is a Dominatrix and I am not really that submissive."

"I did wonder."

"She has opened my eyes though. Thank you."

"Thank me? I am your mother."

"Yes, but you need not have done this."

"And you need not have done what you did the other day."

"I didn't do anything."

"But you would have."

"I guess so."

"So you don't want me to show you what I do?"

"No. That was never my intention."

Her mum looked relieved

"Shall we have that cup of tea now?"

"Good idea."
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Wed May 31, 2017 1:25 pm

15

All this talk about sex and bondage had wormed into Angela's psyche. She stood naked, but more than a little nervous of what she would find.

Did the wall take longer to move? Perhaps it was her imagination. The room was bright. The floor covering was deep carpet. And in front of her stood Ann, or at least the facsimile of her. She was not naked but the clothing was diaphanous with no underwear. Her black hair was loose. Her make up was light except around the eyes.

"Are you trying to woo me?"

"Perhaps."

"I am not sure that you can."

"I have to try, but first a concession. I am releasing you from your chastity.

"Why?"

"I am aware of your view of me, and, to be sure, I have that tendency, but, I am not inflexible."

"It would not have affected what I am planning."

"Maybe not, but, if you masturbate in front of him you will see for certain how he feels about you."

"I had not thought of that."

"Let me show you. Come and sit down."

It was not a conventional chair. Angela had seen pictures calling them bondage chairs. Instead of a wide back it had a single post with a cross piece. Each was rounded and smooth. When she sat the cross piece was just below the level of her arm pits. It took little imagination to realise what was expected of her. Even without any restraint she was being held to the chair. Ann bound her wrists behind her, taking two turns around Angela's waist. She sat placidly as Ann bound her wrists and arms with soft rope. In truth, this was the first time she had ever been tied up by anyone other than herself, yet it seemed perfectly normal somehow.

Ann bent down and gently sucked each nipple, flicking with her tongue. If Angela had been turned on before she was on fire now.

Ann proceeded to tie her captive's breasts. Angela thought that she knew how this would feel, but she was wrong. Ann took the expected loop around her upper body but then started to take turns around her left breast only. The constriction made her breast change shape. It was more than a little uncomfortable and it seemed to already make her nipple swell. By the time she had finished Angela was very conscious of the pressure on each breast. Then, when Ann bent down to kiss and tease a nipple, Angela jumped and squirmed as if hit by a bolt of lightening

She watched mesmerised as Ann produced the pump with detachable tubes and sucked her nipples into them. She could not hold back the gasps. Already there was an ache in her abdomen. Ann casually flicked one of the tubes. Angela fought to get her hands free but it was of no use. She kicked her legs out wildly.

"Naughty," Ann chided, "but we can soon stop that."

Ann returned to the task of tying Angela down. Her legs were bent under the chair and attached to the cross piece, perfectly placed for the task. She was unhurried and methodical. Angela could not prevent anything, She was now open and exposed and completely immobile.

Ann produced a feather. Angela did not fancy being tickled. She squirmed ineffectually as Ann approached but, to her surprise the feather was aimed between her legs.

It was the most infuriatingly light stimulation she had ever experienced. Just enough to get her even more turned on, if that was possible, but nowhere near enough to actually achieve anything. She resisted the temptation to howl but wished that she had been gagged.

"Cooking nicely," Ann commented, "Now..."

She stood up,

"As you know, this body is a facsimile, so I cannot actually climax myself, although I can give you a very good simulation. But, I am not convinced that you would be affected by seeing me climax, so I need to find something visual that will."

Out of nowhere there appeared a screen. Angela watched, mesmerised as she saw herself walking towards her, stark naked. She was clearly uncertain, her eyes wide. It only took a few moments to realise that she was watching her first encounter with the room.

It was incredible. She obviously knew what was going to happen but the anticipation was intoxicating. She found herself trying to duplicate it even though she could not move. Not one scenario, but each one, was displayed before her eyes, including the dual with her mother. Each time she saw herself climax her body ached for it to be so, but nothing in her could make it happen.

She had not even noticed that Ann was no longer with her.

"So far you have only experienced the cold stimulation of a fixed machine. It is time that you felt the touch of a woman."

The voice was behind her.

"First we release your nipples from their glass confinement."

It was like nothing she had experienced before. A sort of heat and pain that bridged the gap between pleasure and hurting. Ann's mouth was then both cooling with her breath and then heating with touch and pressure. Again Angela tried desperately to hold back her cries.

"You might wonder why I have not gagged you?"

Angela did not manage a reply.

"So I could kiss you, of course."

This was not kiss like she had ever known. He mouth was invaded by a wet and powerful tongue that danced and played within her almost making her gag, but not quite.

"Now let's see how we are doing downstairs."

There was the most lightest of touches as a finger probed very circumspectly inside Angela's most personal recess.

"Oh, so wet. We will have to dry you out a bit."

Ann knelt down and placed her mouth over the entrance to Angela's vagina. For a while she did nothing other than breathe, then, her tongue tentatively explored.

Angela went crazy. She tensed and fought with every ounce of strength she had left but failed to move any part of her body even a millimetre.

It was infuriating. Ann knew exactly where to place her tongue to get the most effect without causing enough stimulation to climax. Angela was as tense as a drum and felt for all the world like her head would burst.

Ann pulled out and Angela could not stop the cry of anguish.

Suddenly Ann was all over her like a rash, fingers, mouth, tongue, exploring every inch of skin that was not covered in rope or touching wood. At one point Ann licked and blew down the insides of each thigh, she even sucked at Angela's toes.


The explosion when it came was out of this world and beyond description. Ann managed to keep Angela going over and over for what seemed like an eternity. In truth Angela might have welcomed such an eternity.

"I am tempted to keep you here for ever," Ann admitted,

Angela was still bound tight as before. She ached like she had over done it at the gym and was desperate to close her gaping legs.

"but you must be here by you own volition."

With that she proverbially clicked her fingers and all the ropes just disappeared. Angela could only imagine the inconvenience of having to undo all that ropework manually.

"Perhaps what you have done is self defeating?" Angela suggested, "I do not think you could repeat that successfully."

"Maybe not," Ann conceded, "but do you think that John will get you anywhere near close to it?"

"I do not know. I am not even sure that I would want, or need, him to. But, perhaps, I can take him somewhere near there?"

"Do you think that would satisfy you?"

"I do not know that either. I only know that, wonderful though this is, it is not real."

"Does that matter?"

"It might, eventually."

There was little more to be said. Angels struggled to her feet and walked out as dignified as she could.
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Re: The Witch House

Unread postby RGbargy » Mon Jun 05, 2017 10:46 am

At this point I have left my brief and written Angela and John as coming to together rather than Angela remaining at the house. I half thought of writing a suitable finale for this site but decided that it would be half baked. I apologise for any disappointment this has caused.

However, if anyone else wishes to jump in and continue this story in the direction of Angela remaining at the house they are welcome to do so.

R G Bargy
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