A Witch For The Burning PDF

1 | A Witch for the Burning: J.
K Tallis
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2| A Witch for the Burning: J.K Tallis
3 | A Witch for the Burning: J.K Tallis
A WITCH FOR THE BURNING
J K TALLIS
Introduction
It is a pleasure to present this book to you, it

is sadness also. The events of the past, the trap, the
pit, the sad journey of the planet, the miserable
excuses for life that we and our forbears have
suffered leaves but a bad taste on the palate and an
ache in the pit of the stomach. For us to walk past
these events is a sad day if we as humans do not
show, sympathy and anger at the havoc that has
taken place. How sick it is, the horror, the savagery
and the injustice that seems to be our close
companions, as if it is inevitable that where there is

life there has to be suffering.
We see throughout this world the millions of
different beliefs, faiths and philosophies that beguile
the un-initiative offering sanctuary, hope and
consolation. But sadness prevails.
The world can take steps if it wishes to reach
the Utopia that is spoken of by the seers and poets.
Utopia is within the means of attainment but not
without effort. If people lie down and do nothing, no
advancement can take place.
In the past just as in some primitive religions
of the present time people were under dictatorial
rules but through the brave few some countries have
achieved certain rights. Is it then correct to lie down
at this critical moment and do nothing at all? We
need to wake up and judge intelligently what it is
necessary to do.
To be human they say is to err but, it is also a
human’s duty to correct the mistakes. I have tried
every means I could over the 45 years of my mission
to encourage you to an understanding, to a
commitment to truth. Even if you read any of my
books what will it do for you?
If I were a believer in any faith I might cringe
in front of the Almighty to intervene in this terrible
world. Not for some retribution but to help humanity
to have a purpose. I would plead with you, implore
you, beseech you, and conjure you to help change
the world. Whilst injustice reigns my heart cannot
rest. I ask you to join me for the sake of love, for the
sake of truth, for the sake of the screaming child
being thrashed; the woman left with five kids, the
man on the battlefield.
You have the choice, attainment of wonders

or the attainment of misery, so how about letting
your tears spill on this page and then arise with trust
and appreciation of this greatest and sanest of the
sages and serve humanity and the world, that we will
create together. The rewards will be beyond
imagination. Don’t let the chance pass you by, it will
be a crime.
Yours, Tallis.
The story of Angela is based on a true event

that occurred in the 17th century. The ending of the
story is my own invention. At the time of this
happening it produced an outcry from different
quarters in which even the church men joined in.
However, it wasn’t till the middle of the 19th century
that the frenzy of witch killing began to decrease.
The amount of people slaughtered by the Christian
churches in this endeavour, - is not known exactly
but is considered to be in the minimum of a quarter
of a million up to two million.
Perhaps if we add the inquisitions to this, it
would be a feasible amount, but we could even
deliberate another half a million to this fairly safely
without going over into the world of fantasy.
If on the other hand we donate out of our
kindness, the fact that the estimate for the killings
that the church has done, or which it has had a major
or minor hand in, we would be talking into the sixty
million mark and more. It would make Hitler and
Stalin look like saints
In the slave trade maybe something like three
million people died and even this was advocated
from the book which is adoringly known as the holy
bible.
The hell that these events caused cannot under
any circumstances be estimated. The amount of lives
destroyed, wreaked and killed is beyond
imagination. No remorse should be lost in the ruing
of the demise of the beast. Let it fall and let the
green putrid stench it has for blood pour from it.
It is without doubt that our present system is
the result of it all, and it is because of this, that we
haven’t eradicated the remnants of that belief.
Not having destroyed the beast completely we
still have to contend with it and even when it finally
goes and is but a distant memory we will still have

to contend with the decease it has left behind.
Our present society is the continuation of the
previous. Just a few dishes have been washed up and
the rest lays rotting and stinking in the sink.
A modest look at some of the causes will be
of help.
The events of history can be put down to the
influence of religion. In 280 AD, the Romans had
accepted a very strange belief that had supposedly
arisen in a country called Israel. It had been
concocted most probably so as to make an excuse up
for the Hebrews in losing the battle against the
Roman invasion that happened in 66-70 AD.
None of this belief or its remarkable events
was known till the second century when a few
writers and historians mentioned that certain gospels
were now in existence. These scanty reports though
were not available till the fourth century when the
great liar himself Eusibios, the first Roman Catholic
Pope saw to it that certain paragraphs were
conveniently placed in the history books.
Wherever a convenient space allowed he
inserted some evidence that purported that Jesus had
been on this earth
The Hebrew Warrior Messiah, as had been
promised had never come, so therefore, - they said
he came like a thief in the night and no eye saw him.
‘He is going to come back to defeat the
infidel.’
This excuse was accepted, and thus a new
religion was formed. This was just another of the so
called prophecies that the bible writers used

deceitfully.
In the pretence of a child being born in a little
town called Bethlehem they continued the deceit in
using quotes from the old writings, and causing them
to prove that the character they had made up, had
been prophesied. None of the so called prophesies
have any relationship in any way or form to this
character.
The god man that ensued, was manufactured
and was just a reincarnation and resurrection of
some of the god men that had gone before and which
were a familiar part of the people’s mental fabric and
universal acceptance.
The newly introduced messiah received the
same characteristics as the Sun God Men, whose
exploits supplied all the incredible claims, events,
and miracles as were needed for this new belief.
These stretched from Krishna, Buddha, Horus,
Mithras and Pernithius and many others who related
to all the credentials. [Son of god/sun god, they were
made into men,]
This, then spread to the ends of the huge
Roman Empire, and from the fifteenth century
onwards was spread much further covering over half
the world. Since the colonization and now
globalization the belief has expanded even still
further. This in itself would not have created a
problem except for some of the strange and wicked
tenets that this religion introduced.
I must point out here that the Old Testament
was also used to back up the false claims for this god
man, therefore the crazy evil laws it contained were
incorporated or accepted and passed down as this
god’s desire and personality.
Some of the strict laws were watered down or

dismissed so as to suit the palate of the brand new
believers. These stretched from, ‘An eye for an eye,
and tooth for a tooth, to circumcision and some of
the food laws such as eating pork, and the new day
for worship was changed from Saturday, becoming
the ‘SUN’-day, with the twelve signs of the zodiac,
which were represented by the twelve disciples. His
birthday was placed on the same day, as most of the
virgin born, crucified sun saviors that had preceded
him.
These are some of the tenets that were
introduced. See if you agree with any of them in
principle.
1. Circumcision. This denotes the
cutting of an eight day old baby’s penis to remove
the foreskin. (Sounds sick to me!)
2. Animal sacrifice.
Wow, {2 bad ones already.}
3. The cutting of an animal’s throat to
bleed it to death.
4. The killing of people as witches. [It is
getting hotter.]
{I think we should add these as well, don’t

you?}
5. The owning of slaves.
6. The exploitation of fellow humans for
personal gain.
[This is capitalism as in its present state.]
7. The long working hours.
8. The crushing of women’s rights.
9. Nationalism.
10. Etc.
All these can be checked out by a
concordance. The New Testament also added to
this, more forcefully, in the continuation of the
condemnation of homosexuality.
I would like very briefly to give a few other

interesting, but weird details, in this brief
introduction.
The Old Testament says that the punishment
for a man who rapes a woman is that he must marry
her.
]I have singled this out, so that you won’t
miss it.]
Although the Bible advocates the sexual union
of two people in so called marriage, many of the
characters of the Bible didn’t adhere to this practice.
For instance, we read that Solomon had a thousand
sex slaves and that David had arranged the murder of
a man named Uriah, and committed adultery with his
wife. Jacob had married two women, Abraham
committed adultery with a female servant and to top
it all, Noah got himself drunk, and lay naked, in
front of his sons.
We could also note that Cain found himself a
wife. If all humans came from Adam then he could
only have committed incest.
To give a little more light on the Bible, it is
beneficial to consider, just a few other intricacies.
There is the story of when Moses came down the
mountain with the commandments, one of which
said, ‘Thou shall not kill.’ We read though that god,
approximately two weeks later, told the Israelites to,
‘Go out,- and kill every man,- women and -
child in the land I am going to give you.’
Do we have to go much further than this,

before we realize the evilness of these sick
statements?
The story of the flood is hardly worth the

attention of any sane person, however, I will just
point out that the story was stolen from the
Egyptians and spruced up a bit. It is too arduous, to
discuss the craziness of this story and others in this
short space, but my book, ‘God On Trial,’ gives
ample coverage of many of the enigmas and my
book, The Amazing Equation is the complete,
synopsis, for knowledge of the total subject.
Both books have acclaim.
So you can see what has shaped our history
with its wicked events.
The present problems, of society and that also
of the world in general, have a complete connection
‘with,’ the Hebrew tradition of ‘marriage.’
So much so, that this ‘last,’ unchallenged,
unworkable, outmoded practice, inevitably is going
to take the world to its finality,
‘IF,’ we don’t do anything about it.
Could those far off long dead religious fiction
writers have known what they were doing, and what
hell they were going to bring on this world?
Let us hope, they didn’t.
Modern day capitalism is also a Hebrew tenet,
as is also the exploitation of one person against
another. This breeds hatred, and thus has an effect,
in the creating of war. It is basically a series of
events, or better put, a conglomeration of
intertwined, obnoxious things, that affect each other
in different ways and produce the outcome, or the

result. This book is not going to discuss this, though.
For 45 years plus, through all kinds of means,

I tried to informed people, of events that would
come about if they continued to reject wisdom. The
events are now so overwhelming that the remedy
looks as if it is buried and lost under a mire of
problems.
A late surge of wisdom could just about
avert a terrible calamity of an event that will make
what has happened before, look like a vicar’s singing
competition.
If you say, “Oh, it’s too late to do anything,”
you will be saying exactly, what they said 45 plus
years ago. I suggest that you, if you perceive what I
am talking about, get the other books in the series.
And also start a Tallis club.
A Tallis club is one where you meet once or
twice a week for about two to three hours to discuss
and possibly help in doing your part in the saving of
the planet. The complete series of books will give
you amazing details for an incredible existence with
wonders beyond the imagination of man.
The alternative we will be left with if we
don’t do anything at all, will be, - the continuation
of this evil system with its misery, hopelessness,
helplessness, poverty, suffering, ignorance and
drudgery and the continuation of the world’s rush to
its demise along with all its victims.
This way is not difficult to put into operation
for it to create a new world. It is fun and rewarding,
beyond belief, and has benefits that even the author,
hasn’t or couldn’t visualize, such is its scope, in its
long reaching way.
It probably would take a volume to get

anywhere near to illustrating the advantages in total,
if that were even, possible. That is because there are
so, so, sooooooooooooooooooo---- many.
The gift is immense, so don’t criticize, or
argue with it,
Or be too proud to take it up,
As people have in the past.
There is no need to inspect it, but ‘only,’ to
use it.
There is not a time for gaining wisdom, only a
time for losing ignorance and apathy, which so many
people have proudly got.
You can get wisdom later and I will tell you
how, but first let us deal with the problem. You are
lost, if you only knew it, so now is the time to close
your eyes and take the hand of one who can guide
you. If you were drowning, you would grab at a twig
to save your life, if this is a twig grab hold of it.
But will people ever, ever wake up, from their
disinterest? The answer is probably, unfortunately
and sadly; - ‘No.’
Pride, arrogance, intellectualism and
complacency will lead to finality.
How sad, that is!
If people ignore wisdom, then the results will
be more than tragic as can be seen by the history that
humanity already has endured. Think not that the
world will care, but what a waste.
Leave, if you can your unfounded, un-
provable, half worked-out religious beliefs, even
though you think you are so gifted in knowledge,
and you will have wonders. Place your feet firmly on
the ground and bathe, in truth and reality, which will

come, only with understanding. Freedom is the
answer. Tallis is the only remedy, for an amazing
future.
Be trusting, humble and brave, and take the
first step. Get behind the Master, and all will be
well, and leave your ideas behind.
BUT, -and this is a strict warning, if the
malaise of this modern world is inbuilt in the human
psyche, then we will have no chance at all, if
humanity will not heed to the cause we all go to the
mincing pot. ‘We have to get past our apathy, and
our pride, and then it will be easy to walk the course
of sanity.’ Reread that please.
Only the humble can do it, but where are
they?
Follow the leader.
‘Good luck.’
The great Master, JK Tallis.
Chapter One
It was a grayish day. The clouds had knotted

up since the night before forming great masses of
aspheric mountains in the high pitched red and pink
colored sky, as if they were climbable even to the
seat of heaven itself, where god, was supposed to
reign supreme and who was looking down no doubt
like the giant of Lilliput, looking at our puny efforts.
The god who could see the first from the last.
Perhaps he still confers with the devil over his plans
such as the story in the bible of the torture of poor
Job and his servants and family.
The convent was in the area of Norfolk, a
lazy, sleepy village, where little happened naturally,
and even where the field mice were complaining of
having nothing to do, and where nothing would have
happened, if it hadn’t been for the activity of the
church, that was silently running riot, and
perpetuating many foul deeds on the world.
That of course doesn’t mean that the toil for
the common folk was not backbreaking.
The church as a whole was so big, that it

thought of itself as a country within a country, a
kingdom within a kingdom, the supreme ruler of
everything it perused and observed, and it was.
Everything was under its yoke and dominion. So big
was it, that it was a law to itself. It ruled by a bitter
sweet iron rod, that was put gleefully onto the
populace, and which burdened it with incredible
suffering, misery and harsh financial hardship.
Little did they care that their creeds and
dictates, were the cause of the misery, the hell,
loneliness and helplessness of the people, who
honored it and held it in such high esteem, and
probably many of the clergy didn’t know anyway.
For this you have to have lateral thinking, not to the
greatest degree, but certainly more than they had.
They didn’t need to rock the boat anyway as they
had a great supply of sex, many of the nuns, being
the willing victims, or even the parishioners, plus the
female or male slaves that were bought on the
pretence that they were servants. They had the best
of produce and local delicacies and the best of
education and prestige. The vicarage was a nice
place to live, with a roaring fire, in nice grounds, and
a very easy life went into the deal as well.
The headquarters under normal circumstances
and sometimes the dignitaries that visited a parish
were feasted from solid gold vestibules and eat
venison, quail and swan with silvery utensils.
Common life had little concern to the church,
except as a mild interest, but the grinding, huge
crushing relentless wheel, and machinery were all
important.
It was the custodian of the world, a mighty,
mighty, mighty power, even having as much power
as the god who it gave a pretence of worshiping, -
no, - even more so. Its god never intervened, and if

he had, it would probably have been told to mind its
own business.
It would have been so sad, for his, so called
servants to have been told that they were a load of
religious scum, and that he, the almighty controller
of the universe, was just a little peeved off with their
fanaticism. However his interference never came
about. He had rested on the seventh day and perhaps
was still resting. They made the excuses up, and they
had plenty of them,
‘Oh, he has left it to man now, his job is
finished, we have to live holy lives, and then he will
come and live with us.’
Would their god, if he had existed, at all, have
banned the inquisition, the witch burnings, and the
subjugation of women, the harsh working
conditions, and the threat of hell?
It was power, and they ruled supreme, by the
might of Rome, that once great empire, that had
bitten the dust, and that had given way to an even
greater and more deadly evil. Its rule became
sadistic, and tyrannical, and gloating. As the church
flexed its gigantic muscles, the hierarchy glorified,
in its amazing, greatness.
The church, now, made world decisions, even
greater, than the parliament of the country, and the
king. In fact the king and the parliament were
subordinates; they had to listen, and had to jump at
the presence of the beast. It ruled from the ends of
the earth, but it wanted more. It wasn’t satisfied. It
wanted more land and more human souls,- more –
wealth, more, cathedrals and lodges, estates and
retreats and more power. It was run well, in fact very

well, from the mighty powerful smiling benevolent
man, himself, i.e. the pope, to the cleaner in the local
priest’s cottage.
The rewards were enormous; money flowed
like treacle down the side of a tree. The church’s
coffers were full, and overflowing; full to the brim
with gold, but the charitable image, was enough, so
as to give the impression of poverty, and piousness.
The men, in black considered they deserved prestige,
wealth, esteem and power. Hadn’t Pope Leo, said to
one of his henchmen, “What amazing blessings, this
myth has given us?”
It was no good becoming pious, just take the
rewards, and be happy that people were so naïve as
to think that there was a good god that cared for
them as they took their thin starving bodies off to the
fields for another back breaking day, or to the long
queues, waiting at factory gates, for a mediocre
wage. Wasn’t it right that they should hope for a
better place. Wasn’t it right that when the mother
was dying of cholera, typhoid, the pox, or dysentery,
and that three babies had died in childbirth, that a
thought of a better world should be considered?
‘Don’t get conscientious or rock the boat,’
was the motto and don’t question your privileges.
Let the people, have their fantasy. ‘We have
taken the rest from them; let us not take away their
dream of a better place, after this.’
Many of the priests knew secretly, it was a
load of nonsense, the thinking ones had doubts that it
was. ‘Don’t pray so hard, father John, take it easy, it
is a job, be a career monk or priest, don’t end up like
them. Why, take away the working classes’ one
hope. Don’t be conscientious as a former priest,
Father Jennings had done, saying, “There is no truth
in that which you believe, and thus he was

threatened with excommunication, the inquisition,
and the possibility of eternal perdition to the flames.
What did he used to say?
“There is unlikely to be a god and that the
scriptures are so shaky that to put any credence, into
believing them, was about as wise, as thinking, you
can walk on water.”
So the machine ground on. The king had been
subdued, on the pretence that he was not allowing
people the freedom of religious belief. Freedom of
religious belief was that you were to believe only in
the one true church. The church was gloating over
this.
Now they had the complete power, and those,
in the Vatican were planning their next move. What
was needed was freedom for religion, so that a
person could worship the god of his choice,
And that god had to be, the tyrannical war
god, called, ‘Jehovah,
And Mary his virgin mother.’
Or else!
Chapter Two
The nun standing there, sweet, naïve to the

point of sheer obedience without question and
obeying every command without considering the
consequences and results, or even how things
effected other things, sometimes detrimentally, i.e.,
an average demented, half witted foot slave, in her
sweet way, and with her sweet artificial
countenance, and,
‘Aren’t I so cooperative, attitude?’
Gazed at the Abbess in unquestionable trust.
It was the world, their world, their little
cloistered narrow strip of understanding and reality.
They of course received news from the religious
sources and even a bulletin was placed on the
corridor wall for keeping the sisters informed of
current events. It would talk about what the Holy
Father was doing, to the local church, and to the
community. A man had been burnt for witchcraft
and two women had been taken to the inquisition,
the Black Death was still prevalent and thousands

were still dying.
“Sister Angela, how long have you been
here?”
“Since, I was two, I think Mother.
“Why did you become a nun?”
“Because I love God and Jesus.”
“Did you ever want a man?”
“At one time I did, but I prayed.”
“You are a beautiful girl; your mother was a
prostitute, did you know that? You were born out of
wedlock; you were taken from her and brought here.
She was put in a workhouse, and then into an
asylum. Do you ever play with yourself?”
“In what way?” Angela looked, askance and
perturbed and she knew it showed.
“Do you ever put your fingers down here, and
move them?”
“No, never!”
“These are your knickers, are they not?”
The young nun went over and surveyed the
article
“Yes, they look like they are mine.”
“Then what are these marks, on them?”
“I don’t know, mother.”
“Come on, you can’t deny this?”
“But I do,” she said, becoming slightly
stressed and assertive
In a way she was wondering about the
outcome. So there were marks on her knickers, and
the way it was sounding, was as if she would be
shortly in the inquisition. Nothing is more worrying
than not to know, what a punishment will be; even
should it be for a minor offence. The Mother
Superior kept her stony looking face, as she asked.
“Do you know much, about your body?”
“No.” The young girl uncomfortably shifted.

“Would you like me to show you?”
“Not really.”
“But this is so disgusting. Come, here, child.”
“Yes.”
“Sit on my knee.”
“Mother, I don’t want to do that.”
“That is an order, Angela.”
“Alright, but Mother don’t do that, please
don’t do that.”
“It is pleasant child. Open, open. Open! I
said.”
The Mother Superior a fairly large woman of
reasonable countenance, with an ample bosom, and a
surprisingly slim wispy waist, thrust her tongue, into
the uninvited crescent, of the younger sister. Her
fingers, then found their way forward, and up, like a
drowning person, seeking air. Her tongue warm and
wet penetrated and the lips, of the Mother Superior,
sampled the moist arid aperture. And then,
withdrawing reluctantly and prematurely, she said,
“You liked that didn’t you young sister, and
you didn’t retreat,”
“But it’s strange, mother, I’ve never thought
of doing anything like that, before.”
“So how do you feel?”
“A bit excited and a bit dirty.”
“It is an initiation for you. All things are
righteous to the innocent, Angela.”
“These knickers, I should punish you, but I
will let you off, this time. You have been a nice girl.
Make sure, it doesn’t happen too often, the laundry
ladies, have a hard enough time already. Also make
sure you keep to the rule of silence. God likes a

peaceful existence, you realize that don’t you? There
is no need to confess your sins to God, he has
already seen them. I think, I will keep these
knickers, I can then decide what punishment will fit
the crime in the future. Ok, child you may go, but I
would like to examine your knickers now and again
whenever you change them.”
Angela proffered that she changed every day.
“Well, I will tell you when I want to inspect
them. And Sister, you have a very nice body, very
fitting for a young girl of your age.”
“Thank you Mother.”
The cell that Sister Angela went back to was
baron and drab except for the bare essentials, but
with a fair amount of imagination it was home. The
walls needed another coat of paint and the only
furniture it had was a bookshelf holding three books,
‘The conduct of a nun, Spiritual journey and the last
fifteen writings of the Bible.’ The bed was made of
aged wood with a thin straw mattress; a straight back
chair occupied a corner of the room. The first thing
Angela did was to sit on it, legs straddled and to
stare vaguely at a spot on the wall.
Her mind tried to contemplate the proceedings
of before. It was so sudden that she had not been in
control. She felt slightly annoyed that the Mother
Superior would ever dream such a thing, that she, a
devoted follower of Jesus would play with herself.
But those stains where did they come from and how
did Mother Superior get hold of her knickers? Was it
a policy of the convent to inspect knickers?
Even though she considered the facts from all
angles she couldn’t quite make up her mind. She
stayed for a while sitting on the chair feeling quite
amazed at the events that had taken place and trying

to equate them with the roll she had chosen.
She felt quite sore down below and with
tentative fingertips so as not to make any pleasurable
arousal she explored the area for any sign of injury.
Her fingers felt moist and warm as they penetrate the
mat of cropped hair, and she thought that she had
possibly stayed there just a few seconds longer than
was needed. With feelings of guilt she withdrew her
hand which now shone with a kind of translucence.
She didn’t feel as much guilt as bewilderment.
She had read many times the book, ‘Conduct of a
Nun,’ and she was not unfamiliar with Rule five,
“You must under all circumstances obey the Mother
Superior. How could she have guilt? It was
impossible.
She wiped her hand unconsciously on the
small hand towel, straightened her habit and walked
down to the dining room to join the nuns who were
deep in prayer before lunch. A short while later she
was at the trestle table sampling a well desired meal
of some type of stew with bread, an apple for deserts
and a small cup of coffee.
An hour later she was back in her room sitting
reading the Bible.
‘Whatsoever you ask in my name you will
receive.’ Dare she ask for anything? Hers was a life
of deprivation; she had made the vows of poverty
and chastity. By her own will she had resigned
herself to this life.
She admittedly though knew that religion had
been pumped into her from an early age, from the
first day of her schooling and even before. To say
schooling, was a little extravagant, as it was mostly

to do with the bible and religion.
She had learnt that there was a god and a
devil, a heaven and a hell and if you tried to do well
you would go to heaven. She didn’t know where
heaven and hell was. Was it on another planet?
She felt drowsy as she was reading but was
not allowed to rest on the bed so she leaned back on
the hard back chair and allowed her eyes to close
and then drifted in an exhaustible stupor amongst
demons, angels, God and the devil. It was as if they
were beckoning to her, ‘Come to me Angela, come,
come, come.’
One hundred and sixty years before, the
convent of the ‘Lady of Virtue,’ had been the site of
a farm, but in 1634 it was the home of eighty nuns.
There were six buildings in the grounds, an orchard,
a small pond, a place for children to play on swings,
a roundabout and seesaw, and the grounds
themselves were attractive with trees, different types
of flowers and grass lawns that allowed the nuns at
times to have a picnic or have a fete that would bring
money in for the upkeep of the premises.
The caretaker and gardener, a fairly rough
looking man who also made a gargantuan effort not
to be too coarse in front of the nuns, wasn’t adverse
to a flagon or two of ale. With muscles that bulged
like cannon balls from under his rolled up cuffs, he
made a wonderful job in producing tranquility to the
place.
At the perimeter of the setting a small stream
of clear water bubbling over stones gave an almost
heavenly atmosphere. When there was little work to
do or when she was allowed to have a break she
would slip down to the stream and lay there in the
sunshine.
It was hot on the day in question; almost not a

cloud to be seen and Angela sauntered to her remote
special spot. It was a tiny trek, and enjoyable, if
heaven was like this then she wouldn’t complain too
much. HERE
The sun was hot, and it was humid, the sweat
dripped down her arms and she could feel it dripping
down between her breasts, making a funny sensation
as if she were being tickled. She noticed a couple of
butterflies, one a Red Admiral, looking beautiful and
it wobbled its way through the air and she noticed
the new saplings of the small trees there, their green
brown hue, fascinating her.
The grass was longer here and she lay
relaxing. She had done her chores today having
helped wash the dishes and having cleaned the
dining room. Now she was free, free as the bird that
whistled in a tree just a few feet away. However it
was so warm, too warm and the habit clung to her
body like seaweed draping on a rock.
Feeling jaunty and carefree and feeling at her
freedom, she peeled the habit from her body and laid
down in this heavenly paradise and gazed at the sky
and felt happiness and joy at the life she had. Didn’t
she have everything, food, clothing, little chores to
do which she enjoyed, sometimes and outings to the
seaside with the other nuns, company and the
occasional picnic?
The Mother Superior had not contacted her
for over two weeks and the taint of that experience
had disappeared and she felt clean and holy.
Why didn’t everybody choose this sort of life?
Sure, sometimes the praying and the bible reading
were monotonous especially as she could almost

quote the whole Bible from heart, but the food was
acceptable and basically she didn’t have any
enormous responsibility.
She lay contemplating, thanking God for the
wonderful things he had made, brushing aside at
times one of his wondrous creatures, a blue tail fly
that seemed fascinated by a small cut that Angela
had acquired when she had banged her shapely leg
against a table and which had nearly refused to stop
bleeding.
She lay basking there in the sun which
warmed her spirit. Her breasts bulged as if
beckoning the sky. The nuns were not allowed to
wear bras and for the nuns who were oversize in that
department it was a slight handicap. However the
deportment of Sister Angela was not in that category
but could be considered as ample.
She rose from her position and gracefully
walked to the stream which at this part was fairly
deep and slipping out of her knickers she slid slowly
into its depths feeling the cold damp moisture
bringing the blood to her skin. The cold was most
noticeable around her armpits and under her crutch
but with determination she bore the chill and a short
while later her body acclimatized to its embrace and
she felt a latent release of her feelings. The current
acted in a way like a massage, as if a million friendly
hands were groping her, were fumbling and toying
with her and trying to awaken a lost memory or a
feeling that had sunk below her mentality. She knew
so little about the world. All she knew was that a
civil war was going on and that the Cavaliers were
fighting the Roundheads and that a new king had
been crowned.
She knew the poverty of the towns and cities

and much of the injustices, of thieves getting hung or
put into the stocks to have their fellow kin aim
missiles at them, or prostitutes being sent to the
colonies, she heard of the witch burnings, the slavery
and the inquisitions. But she knew so little of the
families that would go to the dumps to pick up the
morsels that the pompous rich threw away, or go to
the slaughter houses and beg for the bones, fat and
gristle so that they could make a stew.
She knew that some whole families would
work for fifteen hours a day in the fields picking
potatoes or cabbage for a pittance but about the
miners, dock workers and those queuing up for a job
at the factory gates in drenching cold rain she knew
nothing. She had witnessed the children and adults
in rags and had been into their slums. No wonder
men thieved and women became prostitutes.
The priests, large fat people who were given
to a nice bottle of wine at times and mixed with the
elite and the prestigious, were of little consolation.
She thought that if she were a priest she would make
her grand priory a house for the homeless. How
could they even consider themselves, to be human?
The water flurried around her neck in ripples
and eddies and now and then she would dip her head
and take a mouthful of that delicious tasting water.
‘Dare she do it, dare she?’
And before she was aware she had put her
head fully down under water, seeing quite a distance
around her and then like an urchin or a water sprite
her legs came up and she swam into the depths of the
stream? Down, down she went touching the bottom
with her hand, the only thing that could possibly be

seen from the surface, her tight buttocks and the long
slim white legs, fluttering like a joyous butterfly.
And then jubilant she surfaced, out of breath, lay
back on the water with just a flicker of her hands and
her feet to keep her position. She took a breath of the
air. She had often been warned that nudity was evil
and so it was done with a certain reservation.
But no one was around and the only one that
could possibly see her was God. She was glorying in
her beauty and her supple bodily attributes. She felt
like she was offering her body to God in a way, not
immorally, but if you like, as a sacrifice. She knew
next to nothing about the relationship of sex. Was a
man like a woman, had he a vagina with hairs
around it, and breasts. What did they do? She was so
ignorant. Did they put their fingers into the crevice
as did Mother Superior? She wanted to know.
It was as if the sun was shining even brighter
as she came out of the water. She lay down on the
grass and the sun in its friendliness bathed her water
speckled body, drying the droplets. However nature
called and rising she went to a tree squatted and
blessed the daffodils. She returned and lay in
abandonment with appreciation at God’s goodness,
gazing to the sky in wonder.
She hadn’t noticed the dirty shirt on the torso,
the grubby hands and the slightly unshaven face that
seemed intent on her. Then she turned and saw him,
the muscles rippling under his shirt and the
cannonball shaped balls of arm muscles flexing,
showing the slight blue of veins that had seen much
work. He had the neck of a bull and a closely
cropped head of a fairground wrestler. He never
spoke, just standing there like an oversize Adonis,
his slim waist leading down to tight trousers and

muddy boots gave a pirate look to him.
Sister Angela courteously arose and
cautiously made apologetic gestures for the lack of
her apparel. However before Sister Angela had time
to explain she found herself on the ground, the huge
man deftly unfastening the belt that straddled his
waist, the trousers dropping in unison and Sister
Angela beginning to sense a situation that might be
beyond her capability of handling lifted her foot and
slammed it solidly towards the midriff of the debacle
that paraded before her. The shot was good,
connecting like a slug from the muzzle of a
blunderbuss.
The toes first tasted soft skin and then
something akin to hard bone. She felt her toes curl
up as if they had been subjected to having kicked the
side of a horse. As the pain eased she took account
of the situation and became aware of the man’s face
distorted with agony and noticed his hands clasped
around his crotch. If she had paid to see one of the
many concerts that were put on in the town she
would have been cheated in comparison to this.
As far as she knew she had never been one to
revel in people’s suffering and indeed had brought
two beggars to the convent once to receive food but
somehow this ideal didn’t seem to apply and she
scooped up her cassock along with her rosary beads
and made a beeline back to more acquainted
pastures.
The summer went and in its place the world
took on a new face, one of brown leaves, bluebells
and the sheep in the fields growing their new coats.
The routine stayed fairly much the same, the same

procedure, each day with a nine o’clock curfew,
lights out and a four o’clock call for prayers, the
following morning.
Perhaps the only thing of note was that the
Bubonic Plague was becoming a terrible epidemic
and it was thought to have been so rampant due to
the churches ordering the extermination of all the
cats. The rats that transmitted the parasites became
so numerous in the towns and cities that the ground
became a heaving carpet.
Many horses shied their riders or broke away
from the shafts of the carriages, because of fear.
Even the dogs would not risk their skill against this
overwhelming mat.
The churches considered that the cats were the
helpers of witches and they had them drowned,
crucified, buried or burnt alive. People were being
paid a lot of money to ferry the dead in carts from
the houses to the open graves.
There was though something else that
increased and that was the frenzy of the witch
hunters who blamed the plague on witches and as the
common folk knew no better they would report to
them every little detail of each other, even to the
hanging of clothes on a hawthorn bush at night.
Many rumors went abroad of people flying through
the air on brooms, talking or even having sex with
the devil and many there were who were burnt alive
screaming as the skin seared from their naked
bodies, some still alive after the whole of their rib
cage had been burnt bare.
There were also a group of people named,
‘The sufferers.’ Because of the epidemic and the
problems, these people would go to town to be
flayed and tortured thinking that this would appease

God and things would get better.
The Sisters of the convent knew these details
because they were warned to keep at a safe distance
from the suspected areas.
However some towns began to introduce
quarantine and would put a barrier around them that
could not be crossed without an eight day period of
isolation. This was the case in Wavesham where the
convent was.
Chapter Three
The epidemic seemed to decline about the

spring of the following year. The authorities had
decided to import cats from other places to contain
the rats and a marked decrease took place in the rat
population making many rats flee to the countryside
as well. It was noted; fewer rats, less plague and
thousands of cats were brought from different parts
of the world and made some ship owners very rich.
However the witch frenzy didn’t abate. One hundred
so called witches were burnt one after the other in a
town not far from Wavesham. When the helpers of
the witch hunter’s ran out of stakes to strap the
screaming women to, they tied them in groups and
dragged them onto the flames.
“Sister Angela, will you come to my office in

twenty minutes, I have something I would like to
discuss.”
“Yes mother.”
The sight that greeted Sister Angela was
unexpected especially as the Mother Superior had
summoned her in such a serious way. The Mother
Superior was flayed out in an almost grotesque
position on a chair. Her head covering was pulled
back displaying a shaven head, her open smock from
the top to the bottom, her white oversized pants
hanging on her feet and the rest a vivid display of
almost impertinent white flesh except for a foliage of
straight black hair that partly hid a proportion of
what looked to be the position of her vagina.
“You seem surprised, my child?”
For a moment Angela could not quite find her
words. She stood quivering looking at this shocking
sight. The breasts protruded like oversized gun
turrets topped by nipples the size of acorns. The
flesh around the nipples was of purplish red. This in
itself would not have led to the paralysis of Sister
Angela except that protruding from her vagina was
the end of a riding crop.
“Lock the door Angela please.”
“I don’t want to stay, Mother.”
“Why?”
“Because I am frightened.”
“Frightened, how strange?”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“But lock the door; do you think I want the
world to see me like this?”
“Ok, but I don’t want to do anything.”
“Sit on that stool, Angela. I want to talk to
you.
Do you know what virtue is?”
“I have a slight idea, Mother.”

The Mother Superior withdrew the riding crop
apologizing. “I am sorry I shocked you. I should not
have used this.” She got up from the chair. “Play
with me Angela, play with me.”
“Where?”
“Here and here.”
She lay on the floor and forced her
womanhood into the struggling mouth of the
younger woman. Angela could think of nothing
more than to become an unwilling partner in this
drama, although a part of her said, “No,” the other
half wanted to know life, to know what bodies could
do. How could anyone be pure if they did not
experience sin? If they knew what sin was then any
effort to keep away from it would be worthy.
The Mother Superior was if anything very
versatile and Angela in her innocent way was left
aghast at some of the inventiveness of this matronly
woman, Angela in innocence and possibly daring,
inserted the crop until she could hardly distinguish it
through the able covering that nature had placed, as
a curtain. There was warmth about the big woman.
As Mother Superior exploded, she sunk to her
knees her teeth buried deep into Angela’s enclosure
and on her collapse tore a perceptible piece of
Angela’s carcass. She lay on the floor gasping and
shouting,
“Thank you, God, thank you.” Angela was a
close runner up, the crop working faster than a water
mill, delaying slightly due to Angela’s apprehension
and due to the over eagerness in meeting whatever
there was at the end of the tunnel. However, Mother

Superior was there for her.
She extracted the crop and with able expert
knowledgeable fingers slowly, methodically and
without haste brought her to a crescendo. Angela felt
her legs tighten like the grip of a master horseman
and then as if nature wanted to display a sense of
humor she had a tiny organism that gently brought a
glow to her body and her face and just as she was
deciphering the experience her body jerked in five to
six savage thrusts and her feet slammed into a chair,
overturning it.
Her body straightened as flat as a paving stone
and her vultures’ nest emanated jets of sheer
contentment bathing the now moonlit room in
phosphorus from the gods.
The Mother Superior came over and clasped
the head of Angela in her hands bringing her lips
down to hers and slowly they lowered their limbs to
the floor and Mother Superior’s mouth went to the
still throbbing organ and kissed it with passion, her
tongue gently licking up the pungent sweet juice.
A harmony of love, of the essence of life, a
meeting of the inner chamber, the feast of the elect
that is how Angela began to see it. Mother Superior
got to her knees; the bare torso reflecting the nail
marks that had been made by Angela’s clawing
talons and the magnificent mammary bulging with
bruising from her clenched hands. The wide thighs
and buttocks had a cherubim appearance in the half
light. Her hand still explored the crevice and the
bulging breasts and Angela’s hands did the same,
holding onto them like they were peaches from out
of heaven, and did she hear angelic voices, did she
hear condemnation?
She fingered the protruding nipples and held

them in her fingers, her mouth seeking the other
woman and her hand feeling glory, of happiness and
wonderment.
“We will pray now sister.”
Angela got to her knees conscious of the
glistening moisture that trickled down her body and
the sound of her grating breath.
“We thank you Lord for all the good things
you have given us. We thank you for the coming of
the Lord Jesus and we put our lives safely in your
domain, Amen.”
It was cold as Sister Angela found her way
back across the graveled ground to her room. She lit
the oil lamp without fear of being told to put it out.
Everyone was now asleep. She took her habit off,
wrapped it neatly, placing it on the back of the chair.
She took the cotton night dress from the hook and
lowered it down over her body, the course fabric
being cruel to her womanly skin. She put the lamp
out and lay there with open eyes peering around the
darkened room.
Her mind was still reeling from the night’s
experience. Surely she thought the crucifying of the
body and desires were not as beautiful as this. What
she had felt tonight must have been heaven, it must
have been! When she walked or talked in the
morning in leisure time with the other sisters,
wouldn’t she have a glow, exuberance in her step,
and wonderment in her eyes?
Wouldn’t it have been wonderful for
everyone? She could just imagine Mother Superior
saying,
“Now my beloved, we will glorify the name

of the most high and thank him for his love for us,
and as if in unison they would peel away their
garments and partake of this wonderful experience,
the old and the young, a frothing mass of surging
bodies, that made music for the King of glory. What
sexless monster wrote the bible, what an unthinking,
unthankful heathen? Is this where people got their
conventionalism from, the shall and the shall not’s?
What sort of god was it that wants humanity to be so
staid and pious? Was it a façade? Was it authority,
you do what we tell you, or else, you will suffer? We
are in control?
Sister Angela’s hand found her warm
throbbing friend and fondled it, her index finger
slowly, gently sliding across the crease, soothing
like balm, like the gentle breeze that blew in the
summer air bringing the fragrance of the
accumulated scents to her senses, gently, gently,
gently, and then the sweet wonderment of release as
the labia of her companion moistened and gave out
its reply and she drifted into a sleep of absolute
contented peace, where dissenters cannot and will
never be able to go.
“The witch hunters are coming to the town in

two weeks sisters.”
That was the news the next day, grown up
news, news to do with adults, witches!
“They asked to stay here but I told them that
there was no room. However Father Ferguson
wishes to give a talk on the reason they are coming

and he will be here today at 6 o’clock.”
The Mother Superior troop out and the Sisters
made their way to the different chores. Sister Angela
once again was assigned to the kitchen to help with
the dishes and to plan the evening meal. At six
o’clock they were waiting for Father Ferguson’s
speech.
He was a big man six foot tall, broad
shoulders and a broad rather pleasant face. The black
cassock he wore hung to the ground.
“Sisters, it is a pleasure to see you all again
although I know you make frequent visits to the
church.” He went on to describe how the witch
hunters had come down from Scotland from town to
village, sifting, as he put it, “Out the evil in our
country.”
Twenty five women had been burned or
hanged in Sheffield that had been collected from the
surrounding areas but over a hundred had been
found guilty by the Church Courts and thirty by the
law courts. However Norfolk had produced many
cases.
The priest went to say that since the purge,
farmers had better yields to the crops and milder
more clement weather. He described in a vivid way
the work of the witch hunters and how they went
about extracting confessions some of which led to
the arresting of other people.
“I think that many more are being investigated
at the moment.” At the end of the speech he asked,
“Is there any questions?”
“Yes, father.” A young nun rose probably out

of politeness to him. “What sort of people are
normally witches?”
The father smiled genially at the sister. “We
find that they are in many cases widows or women
who have been left on their own for long periods.
Maybe the husband is in the army or at sea.”
Someone else stood. “Father what happens to
their property, I believe the church accommodates
it.”
“That’s correct. We have to sanctify the
homes and surroundings, and the church to do this
has no choice but to take possession. This helps pay
for the wages of these dedicated people as well.”
The meeting was informative but left many of
the Sisters with disturbed thoughts. Reports were
going around that villages were emptying of people
to avoid the hunters when they came. The villages
around about, Sheringham, Norton, Cromer and
Stanton were now suspect areas and much activity
was going on.
A train of slaves were brought through the
center of the town a week before the expected arrival
and it was said that it had been the best sale ever
seen in the town. These people who were considered
as some type of apes were stripped naked and many
of the buyers were feeling their genitals and looking
into their mouths to get an idea of the health of these
creatures.
A few churchmen also bought slaves as a help
in the parishes and some it was believed bought girl
or boy slaves for their discreet sexual appetite.
These were usually chained up while the
priest was about his duties. It was easy to put a
shawl on them to make them look like servants when
the church dignitaries gave their functions.
The witch hunters arrived and attracted much

fearful fascination. A huge army of soldiers escorted
them and as they entered the market place a band
marched in front playing drums and trumpets and
carting red banners and a large cross. In the center
they were received by the mayor with his large black
floppy hat and regalia of gold chain and a medallion
and his benevolent face.
The jugglers, acrobats and contortionists
began their acts and traders, sold toffee apples, fudge
and treacle-buns.
A few of the nuns were privileged to be able
to witness this grand affair, but perhaps only Sister
Angela had reservations. The chief witch hunter she
noticed was a little man with a solemn morbid, in a
way, evil face lined with deep gorges, his eyes
though lively, looking cruel and sadistic. He wore
black from head to foot and the only distinction was
some chain which encircled his neck and some
shining medal or insignia that could be seen.
To the people he was a hero fighting for God
against the whole regime of Satan’s Kingdom.
The festivity went on long into the night and
the following day all was quiet except a little bated
conversation and gossip, a few murmurs and some
fear.
“Have you ever seen a burning sister
Angela?”
“No Gertrude.”
“It is horrific, she said in a sobbing voice. “I
saw three witches burned in Cromer five years ago. I
will never ever forget it. Their screams will haunt
me even past the day I die.
There was one girl of fourteen years tied by

her two hands and pulled onto the fire, naked, she
was screaming. It was so terrible, I nearly fainted.
For ten minutes I saw her dancing in the flames. In
the end, it was like her face burst open her eyes
hanging out, the skin burning from her arms and
legs. She collapsed into the fire sitting there for a
few minutes. You could still hear her cries from the
terrible pain, and then she fell backwards.
The other two were older women, one of them
I knew. She lived with her sister in an old hut in the
forest. They used to make brooms out of the
brushwood and weaved garments on a spinner. I
knew them well. They were beautiful people.
There was a witch hunt and the villages,
began rumors. One sister ran away but the other
stayed. The witch hunters tortured her so much to
make her confess and she implicated the other
woman and they found her.”
“That is horrible Sister, but surely the witch
hunters know what they are doing. There seems to
be an epidemic of witches and surely they must be
dealt with in some way. “
“But this way sister, surely not, the inquisition
means even those who they released as innocent,
which are few, are never the same again. And why is
it always women who are found to be associating
with devils, why not men as well? It’s a mystery,
and it’s sad.”
“How long have you been a nun, Sister
Angela?”
“Two years Sister Gertrude, from when I was
sixteen. However I’ve been here since I was two
years old. I was taken from my mother; she was a
prostitute, so I was told. They put her in an asylum.”
“And you never saw her since?”
“No.”
“Is she still alive?”
“I don’t know if she is. I don’t even remember
what she looked like, but I would like to see her.
And what about you?”
“I felt I had a calling from God. I was
seventeen when I decided to join the convent. My
brother and sister tried to deter me. My father was a
businessman. He made jewelry and they all wanted
me to enter the business. We had a nice house and
servants and really wanted for nothing.” Sister
Gertrude had a sweet face and an open countenance
and while she talked she used her hands a great deal
in gesturing.
“Do you ever regret becoming a nun, sister?”
Angela asked.
“In a way I have. I had a fondness for a young
boy and I felt that we might eventually marry.” She
looked a bit downcast as she said this.
“It was a terrible struggle for me to leave him.
I remember the first time I entered here when they
were cropping my lovely hair and then I began to be
uncertain. That night when I lay on that hard
mattress looking at the bare whitewalls, I cried. I
didn’t know what to do. I suddenly realized that I
had lost everything. My father, my mother, my
brother and sister, the good food and company. My
beautiful clothes were sent back to my home and
then this. I can’t say I didn’t feel sadness. And now
in a way I am resigned to my destiny, to get old and
then to die in this place.”
“Don’t say that. So how do you feel about
God?” Angela directed.
“I don’t know any god. I thought I did. I think

it was the sense of adventure. At that age the
passions can get the better of you. She began to
wring her hands together. “Maybe it was that I
wanted to be noticed or even to make a protest. God
never became real to me. In a way the more I read
the Bible the less I believed in it.”
They had reached a cluster of trees and
Angela beckoned for them to sit on the bench.
“You won’t tell anybody. Will you?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you ever miss men’s company, Sister?”
“All of the time,” Gertrude said. “I wonder
what it would be like to be in bed with a man, to
have his arms around me. I really miss it. The
knowledge of what it is like, I will never ever know
now.”
“But why don’t you apply to the Pope,
perhaps you can be freed from your vows.”
“Maybe.” she said downcast.
“Do it. You are not supposed to be like this.
“Probably your destiny is in another direction.
I will ask you something Gertrude and I also would
like you not to say anything to anyone.”
“Okay.” Her eyes showed honesty and
interest.
“Do you ever fantasize about men sexually? I
mean do you ever play with yourself, sister?”
“In what way?”
“When you go to bed, do you put your fingers
underneath?”
Whether Gertrude was playing
ignorant or was unaware, Angela didn’t
know. So Angela said, “Like this.” She put
her hand on the dress above her vagina and
moved her hand.
“Yes, often. Often.”

“Often? And do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever feel guilty?”
“All the time.”
“What do you think about when you do it?”
“Boys, men, the gardener, my previous
boyfriend.”
“Gertrude, what are boys like down there, is it
the same as us?”
Gertrude smiled at her ignorance.
“Oh Angela. You don’t know? They have
something like a - er rod, soft and supple and
beneath that two balls wrapped in flesh. When they
get passionate the rod extends and become as solid
as a branch of that tree.”
“But why, what happens?”
“You honestly don’t know?”
“I would not ask if I did Gertrude.”
“Oh, you are so ignorant. When it becomes
hard they put it in there where you pointed and they
go up and down. And stuff comes out which is
white.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know that, but I think it is to do for
making babies.”
“It sounds interesting. I also fantasize about
boys as well, when I played with myself, but I didn’t
know what you have just told me. Do you ever think
about going to bed with a woman?”
“No, I’ve been told it is wrong to do that. It is
not natural.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice Gertrude for us both to

have a boy this afternoon? Would you put your
mouth around it?”
“I would eat it, but dreams are just dreams.”
“Indeed. Why don’t we abscond from here?
“Perhaps we can find some ordinary clothes.
We could leave and go to another town.”
“Don’t dream, Angela.”
“But look at that bird. It is free; we could be
as free as that, don’t you realize that, look at it, it has
no conventions, it doesn’t have any fear of any god
or a devil, and, it doesn’t have a cage like we have”
it is totally free, isn’t it?
“Don’t dream.” Gertrude repeated putting her
arm around Angela’s shoulders. Her eyes were
smiling, but there was despair about them as well.
“We are trapped, so don’t kid yourself love.”
Chapter Four
The following day, a storm blossomed, its

fingers of lightning slamming the surrounding hills
and the roar like that of a snorting bull amplified a
million times. The tempest came all of a sudden,
taking the whole of the area by surprise, a ton of
water a minute deluged from the sky; it was black
and sinister as if the devil himself was the instigator.
The winds tore through the town ripping roofs
to pieces, fences crashing and uprooting trees, lying
across the cobbled streets. Around the convent all
hell was let loose. The gentle stream became a
torrent reaching a few of the buildings, the nuns
covering under the low tables as the lightning
crashed over their heads. Slowly over two days of
torrential rain it abated and as the afternoon of the
third day approached the sun appeared through the
blackness and then a certain amount of damage
could be seen through the windows. It was as if a
lake had suddenly appeared on the lawn. A couple of
garden sheds lay in the now tranquil scene smashed
like matchwood and to top it all, a flock of ducks

had decided to rest and add to this weird scene.
It wasn’t till the following day that the nuns
ventured outside. The sky was still threatening but
through the course of the day it gave signs of
becoming more clement.
After a few hours most of the wet and damp
had been dealt with in the accommodation and the
nuns, weary of the effort were not so joyous.
However, an air of excitement arose at the discovery
that one of the nuns was missing, Sister Angela
Perez.
They thought that she could have been
drowned in the flood or was stranded somewhere.
However, Angela Perez was now dressed in an ill-
fitting dress that had been commandeered from an
empty house and with a cloth wrapped around her
shaved head had been gone for as much as three
days.
Although she wanted to stay dry, her instincts
told her to move on. She knew to the south were the
walls of the great City of London. And by walking
and by lifts she received from the small amount of
traffic that dared to brave the tempest, her journey
gave her about the distance of a hundred and fifty
miles. She was wet and hungry and had to ask the
drivers to give her food. Her excuse for the journey
was she had been parted from her husband and
children and was on the way to meet them.
Her excuse also procured a few coins from a
couple of sympathetic carriage drivers, one of whom
had also gone out of his way so that she could reach
her desired destination. It took her ten days to reach
the bustling hectic chaotic city and amongst this
chaos she felt safe from detection.
Her hair had slightly grown and though it

looked strange for being so short, with a little bit of
dirt on her face, she looked fairly like an urchin girl
and so didn’t attract a great deal of attention.
It was cold, and sleeping in strange places
wasn’t comfortable.
She found with a bit of begging she was able
to buy some welcoming soup in the mornings and by
raiding a dump was able to get a certain amount of
leftovers that a tavern threw out each night. She
became more adept at begging and with the few
coins she received was able to get a coat and also
more food. However, the people she was associating
with were vagabonds, thieves and dropouts and
some just unfortunates, psychologically disturbed.
She had heard that she had to be careful as
although the streets were teaming with all types of
people it wasn’t unknown for homeless women to be
put in a workhouse for the care of destitute women
or to be even raped. Because of this she decided to
change her appearance and managed to buy some
makeup and a little mirror. She felt happy with the
effect.
Drinking tea in a café she looked up to see
quite a nice looking man looking at her. He walked
over.
“Hello.”
She looked at him without answering although
her attitude was not one of off-putting.
“My name is Andrew. You look slightly lost. I
have been looking at you. Are you in need of help?”
“I am hungry and I am homeless.”
“Why?”
“Circumstances.”
“Can I treat you to a meal?”
“I would appreciate that.”
“Then come with me.”
She rose and followed him to a fairly posh
restaurant and sitting at the table she felt very
conscious of herself in front of the other diners.
“You haven’t told me your name.”
“Angela.”
“And why haven’t you a home?”
“It’s a long story, Andrew and I am so tired.”
“Eat well.” He said, would you like some
wine?
“A little please. Why did you speak to me,
Andrew?”
“Because I could see you were lonely. I have
a large house not far from here and if you want to
partake of my company until you feel better you can
stay there. My father is a merchant. Well the whole
family is in business. I am glad that this is the case.”
“I won’t be in the way?”
“No, and you can have the whole run of the
house. I’m out a lot of the time.”
“You’re very kind. Why?”
“For you. I was born into wealth. It is my little
bit of appreciation, if you like.”
“Any strings attached?”
“Not one. I wouldn’t sleep tonight if I looked
after someone with an inner motive.”
“Are you religious?”
“Never have been, probably never will be.
What I have seen of religious people hasn’t
impressed me. Many are mean, self-centered and the
songs they sing in the meetings leave me in tears.
Whatever kindness many do comes from the belief
that they are pleasing their god. The best is when it

comes from the desire to help someone.”
She finished the meal and sat drinking the
wine.
“This is absolutely beautiful,” she said.
“It is adequate, not the best, but it is the best
they have here. Ok, let’s go.”
He paid the waiter and hailed a carriage and
gave directions. The house was a two storey building
spread out over an extensive bit of ground at
Richmond.
It had a well cared for lawn and the end of it
reached to the bank of the Thames. He showed her a
room and asked the black maid to make available
any necessities that Angela asks for. And then he
went. Sitting on the side of the comfortable bed
Angela couldn’t believe this had all happened. Was
it the makeup that had attracted the young man? She
went to the mirror and wasn’t certain. The ill-fitting
dress that had seen a lot of washing but no ironing
wasn’t very feminine and if anything she didn’t look
very attractive. She shrugged, miracles do happen,
and then she lay back on the bed and fell asleep.
It was nightfall when she became aware of the
shadow in her room. At first she gave a start but then
was presented by the beautiful black face that looked
at her through the gloom. The oil lamp was lit and
the beauty in front of her revealed her smile. Her
teeth were like rows of pearls and her eyes wide and
intelligent.
“You slept well, Angela! I come from Ghana”
“Ghana?”
“Yes. Africa.”
“I was a slave. Perhaps I still am. I am lucky

to be alive. We were packed in the boat, more than
one hundred. Sixty died in the filthy hold. They were
thrown overboard. They used to drop bread down
through the grill and there was little fresh water.
I think the traders packed us in hoping that
most were alive at the end of the voyage. However,
if the seas are rough or there is no wind for a while
the journey can kill everyone. We came into
Plymouth naked and cold. We were taken to the
different parts of the country.”
“And Andrew bought you?” Angela queried,
sympathetically.
“I was lucky. They supplied us sacks to keep
the cold out but when we got to the market they
ordered us to strip off. A few men were looking at
me and fingering me. However because they thought
I was beautiful the price they were asking was too
high for most of them.
There were homosexuals in the crowd and
they began to play with the men’s genitals and one
actually had sex on the platform with one of the men
whilst the crowd was laughing.
A few other women were mauled besides me.
The dirty swine’s hand’s groping breasts and was
nearly ripping a woman’s vagina to shreds, I felt so
sorry for her.” HERE
“Why did Andrew buy you?”
“I don’t know. He has never once made a play
for me. He wouldn’t have to, because by law I’m his
property. I thought once he might be showing
interest but he seemed to draw back.”
“Aren’t you lonely?”
“I am,” she smiled, “Very. But I am hoping
one day…” She didn’t finish the sentence. So
Angela added,
“That he wants you.”

“Yes, yes. Anyway, what are your needs
young lady?”
“Well I would like a nice meal with a good
wine and you will join me. Is any of that
unattainable?”
“No nothing.”
“Then let’s get to it. By the way, what time
does Andrew get back?”
“It depends, at different times. Usually not till
late. Andrew is a bit of a playboy. Rich and good
looking and fond of life.”
“And girlfriends?”
“Many.”
The meal was well prepared.
Dressed in a skirt and blouse that Annabel had
given her along with an expert hand to the makeup
and some very sensuous smelling perfume, Angela’s
mind forgot the hardship of the last few weeks.
Annabel was more than just an acquaintance.
They seemed to have a rapport and on some
occasions both started to say the same thing at the
same time. It was then no surprise when Annabel
rose and walked behind Angela, her large lips
reaching out to Angela’s and the ebony hand
reaching below the dress she wore.
There had been no signal. Annabel’s large
luscious lips found their way beneath the dress
gently pulling the colorful briefs down and pressing
her mouth into that appreciative waiting reservoir.
Angela felt the clef swelling with longing for this
black skinned eminent nymph.
She peeled her clothes off throwing them to

the floor and with her tongue and teeth working in
unison cradled the black thrusting breasts in her
hands, the teeth chattering and playing like bongos
on the nipples of this ravishing beauty. And then the
black girl’s tongue long and stiff entered her body
tasting, as if drinking liquid honey, forcing its way
across Angela’s clitoris, nibbling, sucking, licking,
and then her hands reached the breasts of Annabel
whilst the younger girl’s hands searched the pants of
this black wonder.
Annabel rose up, the knickers and skirt falling
and the top part of her dress deftly taken off as if by
an expert stripper and there stood a black Venus.
The black hair on her vagina thick and glistening
allowed just a glimpse of the aperture that was now
starting to spout venom.
Angela sank to her knees and cradled that
throbbing wonder in the fingers of her left hand, the
right hand reaching for the black buttocks and
finding their way into the inner chamber and then
she came twice like the exploding of a melon,
gushing down the black legs leaving grey streaks on
the background.
Angela’s head went down partaking of the
sumptuous feast like a vampire at a carcass. The
juice oozed like ectoplasm over Angela’s hand
anointing it in ecstasy and then as if in the throes of
a frenzied fiend Angela’s body jerked in an
extraordinary way, her hand pressing against the
wall, her body upright and with just her head bent
forward to witness the volcanic eruption emanating
from the glistening allure that exploded beneath her.
The nectar poured or rather sprang out like the
spout on a whale’s back, teeming, clinging like the
thick dew, spouting, spouting, spouting and then she
was done, purring with delight as if in a hymn to her

maker.
They didn’t talk but they came together as one
their lips meeting and lying in each other’s arms like
a baby nestled against its mother’s bosom.
Annabel’s tongue entered the mouth of Angela
licking the teeth and the gums, sucking like a blood
sucking parasite, her mouth finding Angela’s nose,
holding it between those wondrous lips. Her hand
going down again to the dainty little mouse and her
head lowering taking in the younger woman’s groin,
sucking, sucking and then as if by some magical
elixir Angela opened the reservoir once again, not
this time as a flood but as an explosion from deep
within her, a kind of delayed mechanism.
Her body shook from head to toe, the willing
aperture distorting like the wave of a piece of
cardboard in the wind and slowly as if rising to the
surface it reached her vulva and with the knickers of
Annabel in her mouth and sucking at the crutch
piece, the heavens opened as if God was saying,
“With this your misery disappears.” And then
it came thick and mucky, repugnant in a way, musty,
and Angela watched as the essence slowly oozed
from her pipe. Not five seconds, not a minute but
five whole minutes the spectacle secreted, and she
rose, dressed and kissed Annabel.
“Should we finish our meal now darling? She
asked.
Chapter Five
Spring time in any country is beautiful but

especially so in the South of England. The grass
takes on a new type of hue and the insects, birds and
animals seem to exclaim a new birth, a birth of
seeking, of reaching.
The air is laced with expectancy. The new life
comes about, lambs frisk in the fields, the rabbits
peep their heads from their burrows and the
swallows and martins come back from their long
excursion in some warmer land.
It is like the air has vitality in it, an
undiscovered ingredient that heralds the summer.
Angela’s stay had been for over two months and not
once did Andrew mention it to her. She didn’t want
to leave, she felt it was her home but it began to
weigh on her mind. She had eaten Andrews’s food,
drank his wine, been seduced by his servant and
received a bit of money from him each week. “This
is for your needs,” he had said.
She didn’t see Andrew many times and did
not know what kept him so occupied. Angela’s room
was just down the corridor from his and she often
heard him come in but in the morning before she
arose, he was gone, she didn’t know where and she
hadn’t enquired.
The only sign of him having been there was a
half drained cup on the table and the plate that he
had eaten from. Sometimes he would be away for a
few days, however on the 25th of April of that year;
the weather had come with slight drizzle. It was
surprising to see Andrew at home working on some
papers. He looked up as Angela entered.
“Oh, hello, I am sorry I don’t see you often. I
feel very unsociable” Annabel came over and kissed
Angela on the cheek.
“Breakfast for you both in a half an hour.
Eggs, tomatoes, sausages, beans and toast.
Traditional, how about that. Any qualms?”
Andrew looked up and then back at the pile of
papers. “If you say so. “
“I do say so, Master Andrew, she said strictly
but with a smile on her face.”
Andrew looked at Angela. “Angela, Annabel,
tells me that you often help her with the cleaning and
such. I don’t know if you are interested but if you
want I can hire you as an extra maid. What do you
think?”
“Well I am amazed. I would love that
Andrew.”
“I will write out your duties and we can
arrange payment.”
“Wonderful and when can I start?”
“Today, if you wish.”
“Fantastic.”
“I will be around more from now on because
the business I had abroad has been taken over by
another organization that will see to its running. This

will give me much more time.”
“Thank you. How do you like your eggs?”
“Both sides.”
Angela went out to the kitchen and kissed
Annabel on her cheek.
“Move over Miss Sunshine, we share the
chores.”
The breakfast was good, good food washed
down with coffee and a fine wine and then Andrew
settled down to his work on the papers and Angela
and Annabel made the beds, washed the dishes and
set about the laundry. When they reentered the
lounge Andrew was relaxing, the papers now lying
neat on the table and a large cigar being puffed
appreciatively, the smoke drifting easily to the
ceiling and giving out a pervading aroma. Annabel
brought the coffee in and Andrew partook and
invited them to join him.
“Finished,” he said, pointing to the pile.
“Do you like business Andrew?” Angela
asked
“With reservations.”
“What do you do?”
“Textiles, machinery, tea, furniture, not
manufacturing, but transport. A bit like a delivery
service if you like. But with the hiring of ships or
with my own fleet.”
“How many do you have?”
“Three Master Riggers, eight Clippers and six
barges. That is apart from seventy that I rent.
Perhaps one day you would like a voyage but I
wouldn’t recommend a long trip. It would be too
arduous. So Angela tell me about where you were

born and your life.”
“I can’t Andrew my life is hidden, lost if you
like.”
“Like a horse disappearing into the mist.”
Andrew replied.
“A bit like that. I don’t want to keep anything
from you Andrew but I have had to forget my past. I
am only thankful for what you’ve done for me.”
Andrew drew on the cigar. “None of us are
perfect Angela. And then Angela in a way broke
down, and then she cried.
“I was a nun; I ran away, that is why my hair
was so short when you met me. I lived in Norfolk in
a convent. I was there from the age of two. The
authorities put my mother in an asylum and me into
the care of the nuns. I know hardly anything about
the world. I felt trapped. There was a severe storm
and I left the convent, then I found an old dress and I
got lifts from some of the travelers. Does that make
any difference, Andrew?
I didn’t want to lie to you”
Annabel sat startled eyed and Andrew
remained looking at his cigar.
Then he said, “Another coffee, please
Angela.”
She brought the coffee over and as if changing
his mind, he said, do you smoke?
“I’ve never tried it.”
He got cheroots from a box and pointed to the
cabinet. The Crotona, the best wine in the world,
please get it.”
She walked to the cabinet and in the far corner
saw a very huge bottle which she took out. A gold
band encircled the bottle and she read in English,
‘The wine created by the gods, drank by

connoisseurs.’
“It’s more expensive than the best
champagne. Three glasses, please, Annabel.”
Andrew said, “We will drink to your new future
Angela.” He poured the drink that shone like the
sparkling spring rain and said.
“Before we drink there is a ritual.” He turned
the bottle around and gave it to Angela. She read;
‘Drink not in excess, but substantial for the lifting of
the spirit and for the renewing of the soul. He or she
who drinks this nectar will be damned, if unworthy.
Drink to your health, to the well being of all living
beings and for the knowledge of life,’ and the words
appeared, ‘YA KA SAMA TABUNDO.’ She put the
bottle down and stared at the clean sparkling liquid
in the glass and then at Andrew.
“It’s a drink from Southern Bengal. It is made
from the bark of pine trees and some say from
elephant dung. The process is secret. No one knows
what the words mean, but they were issued by a
great holy man. Ok, lift and repeat, YA KA SAMA
TABUNDO and sip slowly.”
“The taste is astonishing, Andrew,” Angela
said, she sipped again to make sure she was tasting
right, and then with just a little left in the bottom of
the glass she stared at it in fascination. And then she
said.
“Andrew I would like to toast you and also
Annabel for the love you have both shown me, thank
you.”
“You are welcome, Angela. Ok, now what

would you two ladies say if I invited you out for a
meal and a show this afternoon?”
“I think I would say, yes Andrew,” “And me
also,” Annabel said.
That night Annabel and Angela sat in the
kitchen. It had been a wonderful day ending with a
concert of musicians. Verdi’s opera, it was
spectacular, the different singers and different
scenery. Angela went over to Annabel.
“Annabel, I want Andrew, I want him. Will
you share him with me?”
“What?”
“I don’t know anything about love, about
lying with a man, but I have never in my life found
anyone like him. He is so beautiful. It was this
afternoon; I suddenly realized I love him. It was
while I was sitting next to him at the concert, I knew
then that I wanted him. It was like looking at a
different person. I have never felt like this.”
“And you want me to share him with you?”
“Yes. I don’t want him on my own. You are
my good friend. I hope we never part.”
“But it is not done, it isn’t right. But how can
we do it?”
“First off Annabel I must say that I know
nothing about loving a man, not one thing and I must
admit it frightens me terribly. I literally don’t know
what to do or what a man does. I just don’t want to
have sex with him; I want to show my gratitude, to
return something if you like. But on top of that as I
have said I knew I must have him. In a way, I need
him.”
“So what do you suggest?”
Angela sat there for a long moment and by the
look she had she wasn’t sure how she could go about
it. “Give me a while to think, there must be some

way.” Suddenly she said, “I know. When he returns
we get up and go and jump in bed with him. Does
he leave his bedroom door unlocked?”
“Yes, but he might be upset.”
“Ok then, what we do is to take our knickers
off that we are wearing and leave them on his bed,
what will he think about that?”
“I don’t know but it will have some effect. It
has got to.”
“But maybe he doesn’t find us attractive. He
mixes with the elite, you know?”
“Hmm, but we can try. I need some time to
think about this. Just some time to think.” Angela
turned and kissed Annabel on the lips, “I love you
too Annabel, “We lay together now.”
“Yes, but I don’t want any activity, I want to
save it all for tonight. Ok Angela?”
“We will do that.” Angela said mischievously
It was late that night when Andrew returned.

He took a drop of wine and a cigar and then went to
the basin to wash and shave. On entering his room
he lit the lamp and went over to his bed and sat
down and finished the cigar, drawing deeply. He had
on his mind a number of things.
His father had a slight bit of ill health but was
still involved in the business. His mother was in fine
fettle as healthy as ever. His brother was showing
signs of overwork but wouldn’t ease up and he had
trouble with a crew on one of his ships who were
refusing to pick up a cargo in Brazil because of the

recent animosity against the British.
He placed the butt of the cigar in the ashtray
and lay back on the bed, his shiny shoes pointing to
the ceiling. Perhaps he was overworking too much.
He considered his life. His grandfather had
started the business and when he died it was left
solely to his father. His father was now reaching
sixty and the toil was showing. Andrew himself was
a socialite sought after by many of the daughters of
the rich. He could easily sell his share of the
business and would be able to live in luxury and
splendor.
He was feeling tired of the effort with
sometimes fifteen hours a day work and he wasn’t
sure how long he could go on. He thought of Debra
and Janice two beautiful women who were both at
his whim and he couldn’t decide who he preferred
most. He didn’t fancy the idea of marriage,
especially to these types of women. Beautiful, rich,
full of sex, fun and endless vacations, but possibly
demanding.
He lit another cheroot and watched the smoke
drift to the sky, the grey twists reflecting from the
light of the lamp. His thoughts turned to the two
girls sleeping just a couple of rooms away. ‘God,
they were a temptation!’ If he were ever to take a
wife it would be someone like them. No airs and
graces, pure to the bone, not demanding or bitchy,
easy going and natural.
He pulled his mind away from the fantasy. No
way would he entertain thoughts towards them for
his own gratification. When he went to the slave
market it wasn’t to buy a slave, it was to release one.
He would have liked to free them all. He didn’t buy
Annabel because she was beautiful. He didn’t see
her beauty at the time, just a young girl with hell in

her eyes and bowed head, Angela the same, lonely,
distressed, confused and heading for hell. He drew
deeply on the cigar.
He had the choice of all the rich half brained
bitches and they wanted to be laid. They liked it-
laying down, standing up, across the table, on the
decks of their posh yachts, even in the sea. You
couldn’t take advantage of people like that. And
many of them liked it with manacles, ropes or whips.
The more they screamed in pain the more orgasms
they had, especially, Debra. He could handle a score
of nymphomaniacs but she was insatiable. It would
take a man a week to get over the bite marks on his
body.
He stubbed the cheroot out and stood to
undress, flexing himself as he usually did before
entering bed and then he saw them, two pairs of
knickers, draped over the side of the bed, one green
the other pink. He picked them up bemused. How on
earth did they get there? And then the note.
Andrew,
Annabel and I want to thank you for your
kindness to us. But more to the point, we love you.
Please don’t feel obligated, and if you don’t come,
we won’t mention it at all in the morning. However
we will feel despondent and sad for a while because
we honestly do love you.
Angela.
He stood there for a while reflecting, Oh,

God, the temptation was so strong. He nearly had
the compulsion to go to their rooms. However he
lifted the knickers one after the other to his nostrils,
taking in the smell of the crotch pieces.
He sat down for a while fondling the knickers
in his hands, feeling the satin-like quality, the
smooth feel of them. He studied them over duly as if
he were studying a leaf through one of those new
magnifying machines that everyone was talking
about. He once again put the crotch pieces to his
nose, going from one to the other. There was a slight
difference, one strong and potent with a tang of
mustiness but wholly appetizing and the other a
lesser smell, a little of urine and the rest of a tangy
aroma that seemed to cling to the side of his nostrils.
He held the knickers to his chest for a while in
confused thought and then he rose went to his small
desk in his room and wrote two notes.
‘My friend,
I feel privileged and honored that you have
offered such a wonderful gift to me. I cannot
entertain the idea. You owe me nothing. I ask you to
dismiss this illusion as your virtue is more than I am
prepared to take. Do not feel embarrassed or sad.
Thank you.’
He didn’t even sign them. He wanted the

whole issue to drop. He put the notes under the door
shacking with the thought of it, and the knickers on
the floor outside.
Chapter Six
London was bustling, full of people scurrying like

rabbits going nowhere and then returning. He
reflected on this great big mouse trap that forced
people into being ruthless and brutal. The business
man, monocle on his nose, smiling as he took your
last bit of money, the pimps, the prostitutes, the
landlords and ladies, the vagabonds, the rich, the
poor, the lonely and hungry. Was this what life was
about? This great hubbub of a city that was grinding
people to death.
He made his way to the office and alighted
from the coach, saluting the doorman on the way and
entered, being confronted firstly by the young girl
who sat so prettily in a chair sorting the mail and
acting as a personal relations officer and adviser to
the myriad of people who walked or scurried
through the complex. It was big, two storey high and
over twenty two offices, rest rooms, canteen and a
large conference hall. The girl stood up, “Good
morning, Mr. Mathews,”
“Good morning, Annie. Is there much mail?”
“A lot. I have passed the essentials along to
the manager’s office, one from your partners in
France. They talk about increased work and ask if
they can take on more staff. Holland is asking when
we can move the carpets and furniture.”
“Ok Annie, he bent over and kissed her on the
side of her face, see you later.”
He put his coat on the stand and went to the
office that said, ‘MATHEW’S SHIPPING.’
There were about ten people there, not all

employees, bustling around, with one person very
irate.
“Are you Mr. Mathews? I have been waiting
over a bloody week for that consignment of rice,
where the bloody hell is it?”
“Who am I speaking to?”
“You are speaking to the Secretary of the
French Food Corporation.” He said this as if he were
talking about the department of God.
“I will see what has happened.”
“I can wait. If we don’t get that bloody
shipment before the end of the week, we lose a
bloody fortune.” He shouted.
“One minute I will see, I am very concerned.
When did you order the boat?”
“Last week, we have one week left to dispatch
it.” He called one of the boys over.
“Henry, will you go to the administration
office and take this gentleman with you. Find out
what is happening and report to me, thank you.”
Andrew walked away. He found his way to his
personal office and sat down looking out of the
window. Could he take any more, accountants,
bankers, dealers, cargoes, shipments, claims? He
looked at the sun still rising in the distance, a large
hazy ball of light rising through the clouds, its
golden light just reaching the inside of the office and
reflecting on the brass plates and from the polished
furniture.
He ate, slept, and dreamed the business. Even
when he went to toilet it was on his mind. He woke
up with it and went to bed with it. God what was it
doing to him? Twenty seven and feeling like an old
man.
He picked his pen up, stabbing the point on

the desk. What the hell was he continuing for? He
had enough money for ten lifetimes and still he
would come to the office to be verbally abused, to be
harassed to have to go through a thousand papers a
day, to skimp his meals and his relationships. He
locked the door and ignored the rapping, that had
begun and that constantly went on.
“DEAL WITH IT,” he shouted, “DEAL
WITH IT”
“The purser wants the ship unloaded. I am not
satisfied, have you got the files for Mr. Watson?”
“Yes, I bloody have, he can pick them up off
the moon next week.”
“I want to see you in person, Mr. Mathews, so
please open the door.
“Where’s my bloody brother?
Harry,” he shouted, “I am leaving, I have had
enough. I am walking out.”
“You can’t do that. I’ll, go as well.”
“Then you will lose the bloody business.”
“But where are you going?”
“I am going to a land called peace, have you
ever heard of it?”
“For fuck’s, sake, you just cannot leave, with
all the orders we have.”
“Out my way Harry, otherwise I will kick the
poop out of your arse.”
“Please Andrew; grandfather built this up,
three generations, what the hell are you doing?”
“Harry, I will tell you something and you’d
better listen. Look at these bloody workers on a
pittance, because you objected to a rise for them.
Look at me Harry, what do you see. A bloody wreak,

someone trapped to the treadmill. What are we
working for Harry for figures on a sheet? We don’t
need the money, but these poor bastards do.”
“Don’t shout so loud, Andrew. Look maybe
we can sort this out.”
“Like you sorted out the rise for these poor
sods?”
“Let’s not talk about it now Andrew, go and
do what you want to do. And tomorrow I will try to
get time to come and see you.”
“You are right, Harry, however I think I am
out.”
“Don’t be hasty, wait just a while.”
“Alright Harry, see you tomorrow.”
Andrew left to a chorus of agitated disgruntle
clients balling for attention. He ambled through the
back streets of the city where the urchins were
shouting, “Toff, toff, do you eat toffee apples, Toff?
Let’s do him; he looks pretty flush with cash.”
He got a carriage, “Richmond,” he said and
sat back contented at his vent, he hadn’t felt so good
for years. He watched the houses go past, the
tenements, the shops, the slums, lumps of old slats
and wood, the ram -shackles that the down and outs
lived in, the dirty roads and the rags on lines having
been washed in the filthy street water. He turned his
head away in despair. ‘Are none of you capable of
changing this world, he thought.
He alighted for a while to try to get his
thoughts together and looking over the big green
expanse called Streatham and then boarded again for
the final drive home.
He was greeted by Annabel; she had heard the
carriage on the drive.
“Hello Andrew. Can I get you anything?”
“Yes, please, Annabel. Where is Angela, I

want to talk to you both.”
“Gone to the market for food, she should be
back very soon”.
He said to her, slapping her behind, “You
have a nice arse, Annabel, ‘Tea please.’
“Ok Sir?”
Did she have a little extra swivel to her hips as
she went for the tea? Andrew thought so. He
watched her return and Andrew said, “Annabel,
come here, sit on my knee.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Do you doubt I can make love to you?”
“No.”
“But I might be impotent. After all I have two
beautiful women living in the house and I turned
them both down. Wouldn’t only someone who is
impotent do that?”
“You have your reasons.”
“How would you like to be rich, Annabel? To
be able to go anywhere, to live in luxury?”
“I am happy, here with you. I don’t want
anything else.”
“Do you want me, Annabel?”
“Of course I do, you know that.”
“Then today you will have me. Right darling
pour the tea, till Angela comes. I have got news for
you, if you are interested, but you have a choice.
Both choices will be ok, for you.”
“You mystify me, Andrew.” She said her
huge eyes lighted with curiosity, if not a little hope.
“Today, ten lumps of sugar instead of one,” he

said flamboyantly. “Today the sky will open and the
golden chest of treasure will be revealed.”
Annabel got off of his lap and knelt at
Andrew’s feet.
“Andrew, I have always loved you from the
first time you put your cloak around my naked body,
in the slave market. If my heart could speak it would
tell you more than my lips could ever do.”
“Arise wench,” Andrew said, “The anointing
awaits, and I can hear the other she-devil entering
the fold. Where do you find that attraction that melts
king’s hearts and sends men to their doom?”
“Is that Shakespeare, Andrew?”
“No, it is Andrew Mathew ESQ.”
“Hi, you beauty, enter, the lions mouth is
ready. What goodies have you got apart from those
in your hands, fair maid? Fair maid enter at your
leisure, for the stage is set, but the actors are away.
Come fair maid and partake of what the good lord
has decreed.”
Angela came in. “That was heavy.”
“You should have gone by carriage.”
“I wanted the walk.”
“Right Angela, sit down please.” Andrew got
up and poured another tea and gave it to her and sat
looking at the two girls. He took a while, as if
measuring up what he wanted to say and how to say
it. He had a gleam in his eye that was purposeful and
determined.
“Angela, Annabel, today I have thrown in the
towel, Mathews Shipping Company will never see
my face again. I will sell my share of the business
and will give a bonus to my employees and I will go
and live in a beautiful sunny country.”
“That sounds fantastic for you, Andrew,”

Angela said.
“But I have a problem.”
“What is that?”
“I am in love and I don’t want to go alone. It
can get terribly lonely even bathing in a beautiful
sun swept sea. I want you and Annabel to
accompany me. What do you say?”
“Wherever my master goes this driveling
excuse for humanity will follow as long as my
master casts me a glance now and again and his
shadow passes over me, my reward is immense.”
“Then you will come? You as well,
Annabel?”
Angela was surprised. Annabel approached
Andrew and knelt down, her sumptuous lips
reaching for his and she murmured, my lord, all I
have is at your command.” And then they enclosed
in an embrace as Angela had never seen before.
Angela walked over, “Andrew, I love you too,” she
said.
Angela’s night of bliss was everything she
could have dreamed of. It was as if the main actor
had come on stage, and was wooing the audience
with his charms. With two oil lamps burning giving
enough light to highlight the silhouettes, Andrew
received blessings as even the gods wouldn’t ever
have experienced. Angela was grateful for the
initiation into knowledge, into the inner chamber,
the Akashic record hall where the entire world went
for wisdom. It was like a genie at the bottom of the
bed having been summons and then was rubbing the
lamp continuously to keep the wonders coming.
Annabel mounted Andrew, her beautiful black

body rising and falling in the flickering light her
little shrills of delight uttering from her mouth, her
breasts bouncing like balls filled with water, her
nipples large and strong, bulging out as Andrew’s
hands fondled them. She sustained it for a good
time, that rhythm, that fabulous movement, the black
behind rising and falling; rising and falling like a
pendulum of a clock and Andrew turned her with the
ease of a wrestler, probing her, her knees in the air.
Annabel’s hand reached for Angela’s breast, her
fingers griping tight and then she expired like the
breath of a dying person, but she wasn’t done.
She came to Angela rubbing her essence over
her chest as Andrew mounted. She felt his manhood
enter as if in slow motion, she felt the excitement
flooding into her being. Her hand went down to
explore the animal that was burrowing itself into her
feelings, an untamable savage animal and the gonads
that gave it its power. And then a sudden pain so
sharp that she screamed clenched her teeth and she
lay in abandonment, her breath emanating at every
thrust, being forced out of her, being pushed from
her. And then Andrew doubled over, his knees
jerking upwards and his manhood shivering like a
leaf in the autumn wind.
Annabel took it between her hands and with
mouth agape took the full volume like a child with
fresh cream. She turned taking Angela’s sweet fruity
center into her mouth whilst Angela took over from
the other woman in a kind of cleanup operation on
Andrew, and then with her teeth slowly and gently
chewing the prism of splendor, she collapsed in
ecstasy.
‘Whatsoever, you ask in my name, you shall
receive.’
As if motivated by an inner power she got out

of bed and knelt and said, “Thank you God, for all
your wonders, Amen, and then she thought she heard
the words, “Fear not little flock for it is your
Father’s goodwill for you to have the keys to the
kingdom of heaven.”
It had been a heavenly day and month and still

they were not ready to make any move to sunnier
climes. They went out quite bit to places of interest,
resorts, parks and the country and Andrew even
rented a boat for a fishing trip.
Their bodies were reaping the healthy life, and
it was most noticeable especially with the women
where their thighs showed a great deal of change.
Even Andrews’s hunky lithe torso gave an extra sign
of excitement as from his waist down, his muscles
tightened with all the walking that they were doing.
Horse riding as well, which Annabel adapted to so
quickly.
The summer passed into winter and still there
was no mention of their trip abroad and little was
spoken of it. Harry visited as often as he could and
he had said he had taken on a good partner to make
up for Andrews absence.
And then one day he broached the subject.
‘We have a boat being made ready for you, It will be
available one month from now.”
He looked at the ladies, “You happy about
that?”
“We are,” they chorused, with Annabel

adding, “Very happy, “so it was set.
Chapter Seven
“Your name is Angela Mendez.

“Yes sir.”
“You are charged this day in contrivance of
the law 163 of the religious act of society as laid
down by the church of our Majesty’s reign which
states that those who by design or by chance,
associate in an intimate way with demons or any
type of dark spirits shall be judged and sentenced
accordingly. In being found guilty their bodies will
be given over to the living flames of the inferno.
Please give account of the arrest and details of the
crime, sergeant.”
“On Saturday, February the 17th of this same
year, the accused was found in Park Side Street in
Richmond she had been attacked by thieves. She had
a bag of food at her side some of which had
evidently been taken by a gang of thieves that were
operating in that area, at that time. We took her into
the barracks to clean her up and one of the soldiers
recognized her as Sister Angela Perez who had fled
from a convent in Wakefield in Norfolk. He

informed us that charges had been made against her
in her absence in regards to the devilish activities of
an act witnessed by the gardener a Mr. Jeffrey
Potter”
“Is she still a nun, prosecuting counselor?”
“No, Sir, a man stood up dressed in a black
cloak. She has been excommunicated.”
“So, I will address you as Miss Mendez. The
judge said. How do you plead to these charges?”
“Not guilty, Sir.”
“Ok, is Mr. Jeffrey Potter here?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Would you please come forward and take the
oath. You are the gardener in the grounds of the
convent of ‘THE LADY OF VIRTUE in Waveham,’
is that correct?”
“That is correct, Sir.”
“Please tell the court the details of the day in
question.”
“Yes Sir. In the execution of my duty at the
convent as a caretaker and gardener, I walked to the
stream to get a couple of buckets of water for some
plants which I was planting in the Sister’s vegetable
patch. I came across this despicable woman on the
ground naked. I couldn’t believe my eyes “
“What time was that Mr. Potter?”
“About mid-afternoon, Sir.”
“Right, and then?”
“She was as naked as the day she was born,
sir. I hid behind a tree as I felt embarrassed at her
nudity. I watched for a while because of her strange
antics.”
“And what were they?”
“Her breasts were moving as if someone was
fumbling with her, as if by unseen hands, and her
hands were like they were holding a large penis. Her

back was arching off the ground, her knees in the air
and she was shouting, ‘Satan, Satan,’ I don’t know
whether I can repeat what she said, sir, it was so
terribly disgusting.”
“The court must know!”
“Ok, Sir, she was shouting, Satan, Satan fuck
me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck my fanny Satan, I love
you, I am yours forever, my master.”
A cold murmur went round the courtroom.
“How long did you stay there for?”
“Half an hour Sir. Her mouth was frothing, it
was terrible.”
“I am sure it was Mr. Potter, and then what
happened?”
“I left, I was so very disgusted.”
“Hmm, ok, and your version Miss Perez?”
“I went to the spot to rest, it was hot and I
could see that I was alone. I stripped and went into
the water. When I came out I lay on the grass in the
sun to dry, sir. Then this man came up and was
staring at me. I tried to apologize for being naked
and he began to strip his pants down and came
towards me and I kick him in his groin. He was in
pain on the ground. I picked up my habit and then
ran.
“You have a rule about nudity don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir, it is not allowed.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“It was hot, Sir.”
“And then you ran away from the convent,
why was that?”
“I have been there all my life; I wanted to see

what the world was like.”
“You came to London? Where have you
lived?”
“On the embankment of the Thames.”
“But I have a report which said you had
jewelry on you, bracelet rings and that you were
smartly dressed. So how did you get these articles?”
“Prostitution.”
“You had clients, in other words?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Mostly around the embankment.”
“How did you manage to keep as smart, as
you were, sleeping in such bad circumstances?”
“By changing my clothes.”
“So you were earning good money, are you
lying to protect somebody that you lived with, or
someone who put you up?”
“Nobody.”
“So what do you say to Mr. Potter in regards
to his accusation?”
“It is complete lies.”
“But you were nude.”
“Yes I was.”
“Did you actually run away because you were
frightened of what Mr. Potter claims he saw?”
“No Sir.”
“I would like to speak to you, Mr. Potter.
‘You said you were behind a tree for half an hour;
the woman was presumably having sex with Satan.
Have you ever had sex Mr. Potter?”
“Yes I have, Sir, I am married.”
“Then without being personal how long does
it take you to ejaculate?”
“Five to ten minutes.”
“Would you consider Miss Perez as

attractive?”
“Reasonably so.”
“Could you have looked at her because you
were interested in her?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Is it possible that you made the story up
because you were so suddenly deterred?”
“No.”
“So do you think she was actually being
seduced by Satan?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And Satan, I believe has great power, I
would understand. So would he know that you were
there?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I don’t believe your story Mr. Potter. But I
need to talk this over with my colleagues. Court is
adjourned for half an hour.”
The court arose and the judge went out. On
his return he said, “I have talked this over with my
learned friends. They have decided that Miss Perez
should be examined by the members of the counsel
to ascertain her guilt or her innocence. I wish for the
accused to appear in front of me in three days time.”
Chapter Eight
“So that’s it child, shit you have got hell

coming.” The guard, who was probably trying to be
friendly, about forty years old, smiled sadly. “They
don’t come out like they go in. When they start, no
one is innocent. The witch hunters, the inquisition,
no one comes out innocent; you are so young as
well. “Oh fuck, Oh fuck.”
“No, need for you to worry, is there?”
“I have seen over five hundred of the poor
sods. You can’t recognize them on the second
appearance in court. Oh fuck, I can never take it. It
breaks me. Anyway come, I have to do my job.”
“What do you do?”
“Just deliver you. Oh fuck.”
“Well, do your job; it is not your fault.”
“The problem is that there is no way out for
you.”
“In what way?”
“You die, if you don’t confess and if you do

confess you will supply entertainment to the town
folk.”
“By burning, I assume?”
“Yes.”
“What will be, will be? Where do we go?”
“To that black coach, fuck.”
“Are you like that with everyone, soldier?”
“Most.”
“Don’t worry I have had happiness,
something that many people do not receive.
“Where are the remains of my jewelry?”
“They will be taken to the jail. They keep it; it
goes into the coffers of the church.”
“Would you be able to get my ring for me?”
“That is not in my power.”
At the jail which was surrounded by soldiers
and about two of the witch hunters along with the
priest of the parish, she turned and thanked her
escort. “Are you married soldier?”
“Yes, with two children.”
“Tell them they have a great father.”
He turned and saluted a man on horseback and
made his way out of the gate. She was taken into a
dingy room and she lay on the floor waiting for her
fate to take place. A small amount of food came,
two apples, a piece of bread and a tumbler of
brownish water. She contemplated the things that
would take place, and nonchalantly for a while she
looked at a spider trying to climb the whitewashed
wall, she thought, ‘Trapped, but free. Trapped in this
dungeon that man has made, but completely
oblivious to his wiles.’
She ate the apples and took the water to
quench the parchness of her throat. She could hear
voices in the distance that seemed to echo through
the building. She then began to feel terrified,

terrified of the events that lay ahead. She hadn’t felt
like this before, somehow the fear was kept at bay.
She was quite aware of the seriousness of her
situation. She had concentrated on the proceedings
with the hope that she wouldn’t wet herself or let her
bowels burst. She knew she had to stick up for right
and not let these naïve, vindictive, misguided evil
people who were caught up in the machinery of the
prejudice, have pleasure in her suffering.
‘Thou shall not allow a witch to live.’ ‘Test
the spirits to see if they are from God.’ The
scriptures had read. She had read it all so many,
many times in the bible.
What was a witch and why were they so
dangerous? Why was the Hebrew religious hierarchy
so concerned about them? Was it because they
considered that they were a challenge to them or did
witches actually bring bad weather and plague? Was
it a witch, or a curse from someone engaged in the
black arts which was responsible for one of farmer
Jones’ cows dying, or Brenda Goodfellow dying
from cholera?
She now started to feel her bowels moving
and she was so sad, she was letting herself go. She
went to the far corner of the small room and relieved
herself and she realized now that she was sobbing in
terror. Her hair straggled down her face across the
shoulders; she felt the cries coming up from the
depths. Her eyes were sore, her mouth seemed to go
into grotesque shapes, she didn’t know what it
would do next, and with her mind jittery she found it
terribly hard to concentrate. The only feeling now

was chronic dread.
She thought of Annabel and Andrew, both
beautiful, beautiful people and then there was the
thought of going away with them both to some
lovely place where they could be happy. Were they
looking for her? She remember the lovely times she
had with Annabel draped across the bed, her black
torso heaving with passion and flushing great floods
of nectar over her, her hands groping and her mouth
grabbing mercilessly at any flesh that came within
her reach. Her, “I love, you-s,” were echoing in her
mind now. And Andrew, that herculean body, the
body of an Adonis, strong, persistent and genuine,
thrusting the life into her being and also that of
Annabel’s, screaming with passion, like a banshee,
proclaiming the end of existence. She felt her hand
going down to her crutch and fondling it, but then
she was thinking, I will be dead soon, if not in here,
at least in the fire. And the ring, -the ring given to
her by Andrew, it was not there now; it was gone,
taken, maybe by the one of the guards. She looked
down at her bare finger. “Oh, God, let me have my
ring.”
She heard a rough voice outside. “The witch

general is not here yet, I think he has been delayed,
but tomorrow I think he will come. There was a
grunt of acceptance from the other person.
“I need a rest anyway so I don’t mind waiting.
I am fed up with these bloody people, they are much
more trouble than the thieves. The thieves can be
dealt with easily and sent to the colonies or given a
whipping. So, simple, but, these, bastards, so much
trouble - the testing and the court proceedings are a
damn, bloody nuisance.”
She then saw the shutter on the door move

and a pair of dark eyes gazing at her. “I think she’ll
keep until morning, if she doesn’t, it’s too bad. We
don’t have a lot of people dying in our care and
anyway the graveyard is next door.
So what are you going to do this afternoon
then, Thomas?”
“I think I’ll have a couple of drinks and then
sleep for a while, or play cards, that bloody arsehole
Bart, he beats me every time. I don’t like sleeping; I
always wake with pains in my legs. This place
could give anyone, arthritis. I have been here too
long and my wife wants me to retire. I have just
enough money to buy a bit of land and grow some
vegetables. Might be able to live off it with the small
pension I will get.
The voices faded into the distance and her
mind began to concentrate on other things. She was
amazed that this was the case. How could the mind
do that knowing of what was to come? She had a
sort of serenity, an acceptance, of something she had
no control over. It was out of her hands. It was in the
lap of the great god that she had been brought up to
believe in. in fact she bent to her knees,-
“Dearest god, take this cup away from me, but
not my will, but yours.”
Was that someone she heard from another
cell, there was the crying, the snorts of sobbing, the
harsh intake of breath? It sounded like a young girl,
the voice was shrill, high pitched, even coming out,
grotesque,
“Witch, I am, and witch, I will be, and my
father is the devil, arrrrrrrrr.”
She heard the banging of the door, “A

thousand curses on you all, you shall die in pain and
be cast into my master’s prison. A thousand curses
on you, you god fearing hypocrites.”
“HYPOCRITES, ‘HYPOCRITES, HYPOCRITES,’
she shouted. “You shall all die, all of you with the
plague and my master will have you, ha- ha, ha-ha,
ha-ha.”
She heard the rumbling of the door being
rattled now like the rumble of thunder. “You shall
die you evil malicious filth, YOU SHALL DIE,
YOU SHALL DIE, YOU SHALL DIE.”
Chapter Nine
The night came and she felt serenity and

peace, the wind blew into the grating on the wall and
spots of rain came, splashing across her face. She put
the cup outside through the gap and allowed the
water that was spilling from a gutter to fill the glass
that she had. She then lay on the cold floor, her back
aching and her mind playing games for her with the
shadows. The events of her life flittered through her
brain,-
‘But it is pleasant child.
Do you know what men do Gertrude?
Have they got the same as we have down
there?’
Oh, you are so ignorant
My name is Andrew. I have been looking at
you, are you lost?
I come from Ghana, I was a slave, and I guess
I still am.
This is for your needs.”
Annabel, I know nothing about loving a man.”
I want him too; will you share him with me?

Andrew, I love you too.
Wherever my master goes, this driveling
excuse for humanity will follow.’
`The figures were real, as if they were there,

blackened and slightly mysterious in the gloom of
the cell.
“I will always love you both, she said, always,
always, always, always, always, always.”
She saw Annabel’s gorgeous big eyes staring
at her with love in them and Andrews arms stretched
out towards her. Somehow she managed to sleep \
and waking the next morning she yawned and
stretched before beginning to contemplate her
situation.
“It is this one next, a voice said.”

She heard a group of people coming. They
unlocked the door and two of them, in black hoods
grabbed her and pushed her to the door. She was
escorted to a large grey and foreboding room, as if
the walls themselves were echoing the cries of the
many hundreds of people that had entered its evil
voluptuous mouth.
“Strip off.”
“I will not.”
“Take her clothes.”
“It is no good struggling, Miss Perez.”
Two of the guards stepped forward and she
stood there silently and with terrible fear inside her.
One of the people in a mask pointed to the priest.
“Father Elias, will you bless and witness the
procedure. Will you conduct it, father?”
“Yes,”
He stepped forward.
“We ask you, Father God for your protection

against the dreadful forces of evil. Amen.”
He then went around the room sprinkling
water muttering as he went. He stopped. He nodded
at the masked men who grabbed her arms dragging
her like a ragdoll across the floor. They tied her
against a cold slab by her hands with her legs
splayed out and her feet in two moorings at the
bottom of the slab. The priest said,
“I think she looks absolutely astonishing, it’s
a shame that the devil has had her first.
“You’re a filthy bastard Elias. I don’t know
how on earth you ever got this job.” The priest
turned, “You can’t do this job properly by being
meek, and you ought to know that.”
“I hope you change when you preach to your
flock. Should we start the proceedings, Father
Elias?”
“Not yet we are waiting for the witch hunter.
He is very interested in this case.”Besides he is a dab
hand, an expert. You won’t sleep tonight.”
“Why?”
“He is the master.”
“Will he let us, you know what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she is beautiful.”
“You might get your chance but not before we
remove the Devil. We are dealing with power.
Demons move out when you kick their arse, but not
the big fellow, you ought to know that, we don’t
want you to be contaminated, do we. I would not
like to work on you.. “If you have her now, you
won’t get the possibility of getting rid of him, and

that is what we are here for, don’t you agree”
“She is a good looker, if my trousers weren’t
so tight?”
“Quiet.”
The door opened, “Good afternoon, he took
his hat and coat off and placed them on a stand with
his case. You haven’t proceeded yet?”
“No, we have been waiting for you, Sir.
Would you like refreshment?”
“Just water. Have you done the sanctification,
father?”
“Yes we have Sir.”
“Then we can begin.”
He pointed to two instruments that hung on
the far wall.
“These are called extractors, Angela.” Now, I
am not sadistic. I don’t get satisfaction from hearing
people scream, especially women. It hurts my ears.”
There was a chuckle.
“Confess that you fucked with the devil and
you will save yourself from terrible pain.”
“Oh, fuck you shit! You say you work for
God. You’ll rot in hell. If I fucked the Devil he was
pure compared with you.”
“Well as I was saying sweet Angela, these
instruments can be used on teeth or in the case of a
man, on the testicles. When a man realizes he is
going to lose his manhood they always confess, but
you haven’t got any, but you have very nice
nipples.”
He nodded to the two men and said,
“Slowly. We don’t want the fun over too
fast.” The clamp of the instruments fastened around
the two red projections and the chief witch hunter,
said,
“Do you want to lose the chance of having the

Devil’s baby?” “You will not be able to feed it.” (He
gave the order to the two men, “Slowly, slowly”
“You bastards.”
“That is one thing I am not” He said, “But I
understand you are, ‘more.”
Now the pain was unbearable, Angela’s teeth
began to chatter and her bowels gave out. She began
to riff screaming with the pain.
“No, no. Please, please, please”
“Remove the pincers. You wouldn’t fancy a
woman without nipples. I see you have had a shit on
us Angela.” “Wipe this up!” “We don’t want to run
out of entertainment”. “Do you feel like fighting the
Devil, father? I see you are eager.”
“You evil bastards. You call yourself holy,
you are depraved and wicked.”
“Force with force dear Angela. Father do your
bit. We get the vibrations with this toe- clamp. I’ve
been told it sets you off.”
The priest stripped to his undergarments.
“I’d like to acquaint myself, chief witch
hunter.” And then, he forced his way through the
matted air.
“You evil sod. You have the devil, not me!”
“Okay,” he said as he boarded.
The masked men placed the thongs on the left
foot of Angela, the pain was incredible. It was like
the toe had been sliced off. She screamed, her wrists
ripping with the tightness of the rope, bucking first
this way and then that and the priest forcing his way
into her. Over those minutes of agony she hardly
knew this sick fiend was on her, and then the priest
panting and gasping withdrew. “Shit that was

incredible.” Her fanny contorted in all shapes and
sizes, wow, wow, wow, that is something to
remember. No wonder the devil liked her.”
Angela was sobbing. The sounds coming deep
from her chest, her chest rising and falling as the
pain slowly subsided.
“Shit that was good”, he said again.
“Did you find any devil?”
“No one can fuck like she can without the
devil being in her.”
“How do you feel sweet Angela?” the witch
hunter said.
“I want to confess.”
“But not so quick.”
“But I am a witch. I admit it.”
“Did you hear anything?” The witch hunter
turned to one of the men.
“No sir, I didn’t.” “When is she going to
confess?”
“I don’t know if you will like this next one,
sweet Angela.”
“It is not that impressive but I have been told
it is very unpleasant, see what you think?”
“No more, I’ll tell you everything.”
“We all want to fuck you, Is that alright?”
“Yes.”
“She is a willing little bitch. Later we will
bless you.”
“The tackle please, Bert.”
The hooded man lowered down the hoist,
undone the rope from the slab and dragged Angela
into the air.
“Can I give her a mouthing?” the man in the
mask said.
The chief hunter nodded. “But mind the devil,

he might pop out”. However, as the man’s head
neared so did Angela’s knee. It hit the man’s
forehead like a battering ram against an oak door.
Suddenly, he shot back smashing against the wall.
“You bitch!” He shouted.
The witch hunter said, “Later it will be juicier.
Wind her up and put the weights on.” A board was
tied under her legs.
“Okay. Continue, fifteen, sixteen.”
“That’s one hell of a weight, Reverend. Any
more will pull her in half.”
“Perhaps she can break the record.” “She’s
looking awfully long and thin, don’t you think?”
“Right! Bring her down and lay her back on
the slab.”
Then came the real pain. As they laid her back
the pain entered her nearly numb body as the joints
tried to resettle. Gasping, her face white, her eyeballs
bulging and her teeth biting through her lower lip,
once again her bowels gave out and urine gushed
from her vagina.
“It’s a good spectacle, aye, John?”
Angela’s fingers scratched wildly at the slab,
screaming in sharp squeals like that of a whale in the
sea. Ten minutes of hideous pain ripped through her
body. Her vagina’s spurting fluids.
“That’s some sight!”
“I told you, you’ll not get a good sleep
tonight, didn’t I?”
The chief hunter said, “Now for the finality.”
“When you thought that it couldn’t get any better.”
He nodded. “Get the sprit and pump the fire.” The
fire was on a type of a trolley and with some bellows

the smoldering embers glowed with white flames.
She was strapped to the pole, her arms and feet tied
both sides, with a huge leather belt around her waist
holding her to the sprit. The fire was then pushed
under her body.
“I understand you like sunbathing, sweet
Angela.”
Slowly she was turned, the big man with the
mask turning the handle.
“A bit nearer,” the witch hunter said.
As she was turned the other man released the
grips that held the pole. The heat seared.
“You look so tanned, Angela.”
Her vagina gave out again. It was like every
pore in her body was giving out some sort of
pungent smell as the sweat boiled.
“I think she’s had enough. Take her down.”
She lay on the slab. It was like the angels had
come for her. She saw the cloud of blackness closing
and now and again she saw faces peering through.
She wasn’t aware of the man on top of her. She
wasn’t in the world anymore. They could do what
they liked with her body. She thought she saw Jesus
standing there with outstretched arms, a kind of
crimson golden sky above him, but the image faded.
She seemed to see her mother, Andrew and Annabel.
“Is she dead?”
“I don’t know.”
The witch hunter said, “I am going now.
When she comes too, get her to sign this.”
“Thank you sir. Bye bye.”
Chapter Ten
It wasn’t the same woman who entered the

court. Her face drawn, her lips thin, the shoulders
stooped the hair lanky. The dress rubbed against the
red burned skin and her legs walked zombie fashion
as a sleepwalker might walk towards a cliff. She
stood there hardly hearing the judge.
“You have confessed to having had sex with
the devil. It is therefore my duty to order on you the
ultimate punishment this court can give. Death by
fire. Is there anything you wish to say?”
“Yes sir. I beg of you.” “I will go to my death
willingly, but please Sir, I ask one thing from you.”
“And that is?”
“Sir, when I was caught they took the rest of
my jewelry. I don’t want any of it, except my ring”
“Your ring?”
“Yes sir, they forced it from me. I go to the
fire, but please just this one request Sir, I plead with
you.”
The judge looked at the sergeant.
“Do you know where it is?”

“No, sir.”
“Then you find it, I want that same ring on
this woman’s finger this afternoon, otherwise you
may just suffer very serious problems. He turned to
the girl. “Where did the ring come from?”
“From someone, I love, Sir.”
“Sergeant go and get it.”
Suddenly Angela couldn’t contain herself. She
fell to her knees, the tears bursting out of her.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, sir.
Thank you.”
The judge said, “You will wait in my office
till they bring it.”
“But she might escape, Sir?”
“No, she won’t, only the guilty escape.”
The notice said,

‘The Diocese announces the death sentence of
the witch, Angela Perez an excommunicated nun.
The charge is that she had sexual contact with Satan.
The order will be carried out at three in the afternoon
Wednesday at the park opposite the Church of The
Risen God.’
“Only one.” The man looked so disappointed.

That is a right let down. The witch hunters must be
slackening.
The other man said. “I heard there were
hundreds in Norfolk.”
“Anyway it is a bit of a spectacle. Spectators
are already arriving. They haven’t seen a witch
burning here for thirty years. She was an ex nun.
She’s quite beautiful as far as I know. Fancy having
sex with the Devil.”
The man’s companion said, “How the hell do

you have sex with the Devil?”
“Well the authorities know all about that. I
can’t say myself. I think the trial stated she lay
naked near a river or something and that she had sex
there.” Look Jake, I’m going to take my place as
near as I can to the fire. I’ve never seen anything like
this, there will be crowds coming, everybody in
London, I reckon. They are putting up tents, bloody
hell they should make it a public holiday.”
“I think it is one. If not, at least a few people
will get rich here.”
“I will stay overnight so I can have a good
place. They burn her naked as well.
“I reckon you’re sick, she is only young, and I
don’t see how she having been a nun could change
like that. It isn’t possible. I don’t like these courts;
they say no one comes out free. Maybe the whole lot
is rubbish.
Who knows if this guy ever lived, this Jesus
fellow? Look at our lives; they are so pathetic, and
useless, just working and that is all. And look at
these priests all living in comfort and with good
food.
“Angela, will you come please?” The young

man in uniform took her hand.
“Is it today?”
“Yes, come.”
“What’s your name?”

“Thomas.”
“How long have you been in the army?”
“Just six months, ma’am, it is a living, didn’t
fancy working on the land.”
“You are so young, have you ever done this
job before?”
“No”, he said quietly. “You are the first one.”
“Will you be there when they burn me?”
“I think so. They say there is quite a crowd. It
is as if the whole of London has turned up.”
“So, am I famous then?”
“Yes. They say they haven’t had a witch
around here for years. The whole world seems to be
talking about it.
“Do you think, I am beautiful, Thomas?”
“Very beautiful, Ma’m.”
“I want to look my best. After all, it is a big
occasion,” she whispered.
“How far is it, from here?”
“About five and a half miles. I think
there will be crowds along the route so we
will have to have a fair amount of soldiers
with us. Come ma’am.”
“Okay.”
“That’s the carriage, the driver in black.”
“Wonderful outfit.”
“Yes, jump in ma’am.”
With three more soldiers with muskets on the
top, the carriage set off. She could hear the shouts of
people.
“Witch! Witch! Witch!”
The young lad said to her, “Are you really a
witch, ma’am?”
“No, I was tortured to confess. The
inquisition, Thomas.” Tears came to her eyes. “It is
the church, Thomas. You look around to see the

poverty and the suffering, and the injustices. People
glory in ignorance and because of this, they think
low.”
She could hear the stones they were being
thrown against the carriage.
“Have you ever been in love, Thomas?”
“Not really ma’am, I am still a virgin.”
“It will come.”
“You have been in love then?”
“Yes.”
“It must be beautiful.”
“It is, Thomas, it is.”
“Witch! Witch!”
“Hear the people, how lost, they do not know
the truth, Thomas.”
“What is the truth ma’am?”
“Truth? Maybe to wait for the truth, to want
the truth. “Are we there yet?”
“Maybe two miles more.”
“What would you do if I tried to escape?”
“I don’t know, I’ve been expected to contain
you. Orders. Maybe I will shoot you. It would be a
better death than what you are going to. I could if
you try to jump out. You’ll be dead in a second. I
would be prepared to take the blame.”
“No. But thank you. The wheels are making a
hell of a noise. ”
“They always do over these roads ma’am. I
think we are nearly there Angela.” He leaned over
and clasped her hand. I am proud to have met you.”
The horseman whoo-ed the horse to a stop,

their metal hooves now silent but the noise of the
crowd was immense.
“Angela come, come!” The soldier said.
She stepped out, the light hurting her eyes.
She looked into the sky as if it was the first
time. “Thomas,” she said. “That’s wonderful, isn’t
it?”
The troop of soldiers took her, walking each
side and clearing a path. “Out of the way there, out
of the way!”
The huge bonfire was ready to be lit. There
was a small platform and she could see the outline of
a priest.
“Angela,” the young man said. “You must
have this rope on your hands.”
“I don’t want it. I will not run.”
“Please, for me. I will not tie it tight.”
“Okay.”
“We have to go to the platform, so come.”
As she reached the top step she heard the
priest praying. He then stopped and said, “Do you
wish to make your peace with God?”
“I have peace already.”
“But you will meet your Maker.”
“In that case when I get there, I will ask
mercy for you.”
“Take her; she will get her just desert.”
She walked down the steps and the band
began to play a tune that she didn’t recognized but
she felt an air of importance, this was her big day.
Everyone had come to see her. Some had even
stayed overnight. As far as she could see the people
were in droves, some even hanging on the branches
of the trees and the little kids staring through the legs
of their relatives. She could hear the cries of the
vendors and also a group of catholics that were

praying for her soul.
“Great merciful master, save her from her
iniquity, let Satan be defeated.”
They were suddenly shocked when Angela
whirled around and curling her lips back, gave a
snarl at the same time pretending she was going after
them. They recoiled in terror
“Mary mother of god, protect us,” they
shouted. “Protect us woeful sinners.”
The army cleared an area pushing the crowd
back and then the Sergeant, said, “Miss Perez, we
must put this rope on your arms, we will pull you so
that the hottest part of the fire does a quick job.”
“No, I don’t want that. You can put the ropes
on, but I will walk in front of you. You will not drag
me.”
“We will walk a little bit behind you. So,
when I say off, just start walking.”
“Before that I have something to do.
This ring.”
She looked down at it, and then burst into
tears, holding it.
“I love you, I will always love you. I will
always love you.”
She watched as the fire ignited. Slowly the
embers glowing red, the breeze feeding it along with
the Fire Fanners who made the fire into a slow
developing inferno.
“Right, let us go Angela.”
The fire now loomed in front of her, the
brightness so vivid she could hardly keep her gaze
on it and then the searing heat, so hot it shocked her
and she nearly turned away and ran. Some of the

crowd was roaring and some others had their hands
cupped over their mouths and were pensive, shock
and frightened. She hesitated just slightly and then
slowly and deliberately, with her head held high, her
hair flashing in the light, he face angelic, she
walked to the fire.
One hundred yards away she could feel the
heat as it wafted on the evening breeze. The heat was
so intense that she could feel her skin beginning to
cook and the hair shriveling. How was it possible to
go further, it wasn’t and yet she had to?
She stopped for just a few seconds and then
she continued. The fire stopped her in her tracks and
the soldiers had to pull her the rest of the way. The
silhouette stood there with composure as the flames
licked their deadly effect across her skin. The fire
ignited her flesh, peeling it in great bubbles, before
they exploded; her feet burning, the pain so terrible
that her screams could be heard above the crowd.
And slowly she sank. Her neck burned away and the
whimpering coming out from the hole in her neck.
Her legs, especially inside the thighs burst with
rapidity, the veins and sinews, sagging like pieces of
string.
She sank to her knees as the fire engulfed her
body, the flesh burned from her mouth, the teeth set
as if in a grin and then she collapsed and died.
Chapter Eleven
“Wake up, wake up, what’s wrong with you

sweetheart?”
“I am not a witch, I am not.”
“Of course you are not darling. What is
wrong, have you had a dream?”
“Andrew, I am not a witch. I did not have sex
with him.”
“Who?”
Andrew turned, “Annabel, go and make some
very strong tea immediately.”
“Ok, Andrew.”
“Hold me Andrew, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.”
“No, of course. What happened? Have you
been dreaming?”
“They made me confess.”
“Who did?”
“The church, they tortured me,” she cried.
“Darling look, I don’t know what you are
talking about but you are with me and Annabel.
Annabel, give me the drink. Drink it.”
“Ok.”
“Slowly! What has happened, did you
dream?”
“I don’t know, I think so Andrew.”
“Look I want you to rest. Annabel get in bed
with us. We will stay with you darling.”
Andrew put his arm around her and snuggled
into her.
“Do you love me, Andrew?”
“More than anything. Do I have to say?”
“And you Annabel?”
“Of course, I do.”
“You will never leave me, will you?”
“Of course not. I swear on my life that I have
come home Angela. I have been looking all my life
and I have found more than I could ever have
hoped.”
“But look at my feet, Andrew, my legs, look
they are all burnt.”
“Darling, relax now. We will stay with you.”
She lifted her arms and put them around
Andrew and Angela’s neck.
“Will we be together always?”
“You bet angel darling, you bet.”
“Spain, Italy, Greece or France, we have a

choice.”
“ Of course,” Annabel said. “Italy,” and then,
she said Portugal.
“No, Spain. Let’s go.”
“Just like that?”
“But what about the house?”
“Sold it, last week and my brother has my

share of the business as you know, so what I keeping
you. We are free.”
“Beautiful, OK, then. Do we buy property
there?”
“Not necessarily, we can rent or we can live in
a hotel. They have hotels there. “We are living in the
17th century, sweetheart.”
“But do they have beds big enough? Annabel
asked concerned.
I am sure.”
“So pack the bags. Oh, Andrew, Annabel said,
how many more surprises?
“I will see if I can think of anything? We have
ten hours to get to the docks. My brother has put a
boat on for us. A carriage will be here in two hours.
We have a long journey. You will find some boxes
in the shed for packing. So let’s do it.”
The journey took a decent time but with just a
half an hour to spare they came up next to the ship, a
three rigger, that was painted the strange color of
yellow.
“Hello Harry.”
“Hello Andrew. Let’s get the crates on
board.”
Andrew turned to the girls. “My brother will
escort us to our destination. Thanks Harry.”
“We have to vacate this wharf by eight tonight
otherwise we pay more.”
“You were never one to waste money, Harry.”
Andrew said.
Harry turned to a few of the crew. “Jump
lively lads’, hanging around on the guard rail
gawking at these beauties is not going to get us

moving. I don’t blame you though,” he said. They
laughed and then they came up, still humping the
boxes.
“Well, let’s go. Cast off you lads, give us a bit
more sail, Jed. Mainsail and studs if you want. Steer
five degrees port.”
“Aye, aye Sir. Jack take watch, lights on in
two hours.”
The captain came over.
“Good to see you all. Excuse me,” he shouted,
“Tighten the jib, it is rattling like a horse’s hooves,
can’t hear yourself talk. Welcome aboard, I am
Captain Jeffries, at your service madam’s. Here it’s
fairly calm because we are running leeside but when
we reach the channel it will be rough. It will also be
rough when we hit the Atlantic, but that won’t be for
a few days. Depends on the weather, a bit of a wind
and we will make good time. Excuse me you men,
put these crates down into the galley. Pardon, - we
will go to my cabin and celebrate your passage.
Excuse me again, southeast, and complete sail, load
up the sails, past Ailtinss point, southwest.”
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
“You will find it a bit unsteady ladies so hold
onto the rail. Just around here there are a few
troughs. The waves break across by the cliffs and
then there is a running sea.”
Angela said, “A running sea?”
“Oh sorry, I mean the waves are breaking
against us. It sort of sucks the boat down a bit and
makes it sluggish. Right, come in and sit down.
Whisky, rum, brandy? Now, the reason I am stalling
you is because I have my men finishing off your
cabin.”
“What do you mean, Captain? Harry said, I

thought it was complete.”
“It was, Mr. Mathews, till the storm the other
night. Took us by surprise, forty foot waves, it
banged us around a bit. We took on water which
flooded the lower deck. The North Sea can be a hell.
I have been in practically every sea you could
imagine, but the North Sea can rate with the worst.
But as you know, the boat can take a typhoon, if it is
needed. Built by the Hudson Company.”
“Right,” Harry said, “So how long will my
companions, have to wait?”
“Maybe half hour, Sir.”
“Ok, by the way, this young lady is called
Annabel and this one, Angela.”
The captain offered his hand. “Welcome
aboard ladies.”
Annabel said, “Thank you so much, captain.”
“It is a pleasure Ma’m.”
Annabel said. “Have you put this boat on
especially for us, Harry?”
“In a way yes and in a way no, this boat was
assigned a cargo on the coast of Africa, we pass
Portugal and Tenerife on the way. It isn’t out of our
way very much. You are not picking slaves up;”
Angela said and then realized her mistake, “Sorry
Annabel.”
“No, we have never been into that.”
“Oh, that is a relief then,” Angela replied,
smiling.
The captain turned, “In a while I will show
you your quarters, we are making good headway, at
the moment, you can see the straits and over there
the Camion rocks, he said pointing through the

starboard cabin window.
“I will take you down now” He showed them
to their cabin. “Not the best,” he said, “We had to
make some changes, we only now and again carry a
passenger or two,”
Angela replied, “It is fantastic and thank you.”
“Well you get settled in and I will see you in
an hour because I want to talk to you.”
“Ok,” Angela smiled. “It is fantastic” What
does the captain want to talk about Andrew?
Well, when we see him, he will fill us in on
some details. Before that I wish to talk to you
myself.”
Annabel came over and kissed him, but
Andrew pulled away. I have something to say, he
said seriously. “So if you two ladies would like to sit
down”
“Ok,’ Annabel said.
“I er, I want er, to, er talk erm, I have never
been so happy er, in my life as er, I am now and er,
and I er, I I- I and I want to know if our relationship
is er,”
“Get on with it Andrew,” Angela prompted.
“Well er, is our relationship serious?”
“Of course,” Angela replied.
“Will you both, marry me?”
“You know well we would, but that is not
possible, is it darling?”
“The captain can marry us, if you are
interested. “
“How?”
“That is one of the capabilities of a captain of
a ship, didn’t you know that?”
“Not at all.”
“But I want to be sure that we really want

each other.”
“You know that’s true, don’t you?”
“In that case I want to propose to you two
young ladies. I offer my complete love to you and I
ask you if I can have the honor of your hands?”
“Of course Andrew,” Angela said, “We both
love you.”
“Right. What the captain has told me is that he
is going to anchor just of the coast in a short time
and he will do his duty for us. Till then let’s get the
place, the way we want it and a drink will go down
well.”
Annabel walked to the cabinet, “What would
you like Andrew?
“This is a good day for me,” Andrew said.
“Bottoms up. I mean with the drink,” he smiled.
The clanking of the anchor told them that the
boat was now at rest, and Andrew said let’s go
sweethearts. As they came out of the cabin it
seemed the whole crew was there. The first thing
that greeted them was riotous applause. The captain
stood in the center of the galley and said, “Would
you like to come forward? Do you have a best
man?”
Harry walked forward, “Yes, captain.”
“You have the rings?”
“Yes Sir.”
The captain said, “Is there anyone here who
knows any reason why these people should not be
married. Ok, so forever hold your peace. Now it is
not possible for reasons of which you are aware in
that you can be married legally, or even in the eyes
of the church. However this ship’s wedding and it is

recognized by my crew and me, and may I say God.
This is probably the first wedding ever to be
conducted for the marriage of three people. Now I
want to have a serious word with you all. A marriage
is an agreement. I have a crew here and they are my
friends as well. However when I give an order they
know I am serious. I don’t like doing anything
without the right result. Therefore if you have any
doubt about this you must tell me.”
They shook their heads. “No doubts,”
Annabel said.
“Right, as the captain of this ship I ask you to
come forward.”
He turned to the crew, that’s Jed, been with
me twenty years. Jed grinned. Bert, Jake, Manuel,
Thomas, Nick and Jon. They are my witnesses.
Now Angela I ask you, do you promise to remain
faithful and true?
“I do.”
“You Andrew?”
“Yes,”
“You Annabel?”
“I do.”
“Will the best man step forward, you are?”
“Mr. Harry Mathews.”
“And your profession, sir?”
“Owner of Mathew’s Shipping Company.”
“Ok, would you three sign this contract for
marriage? And now you may place the rings on
their fingers Harry. Now, friends, before we finish
this occasion, I want to say that Mr. Harry Mathews
has volunteered to raise your wages by more than a
quarter and is also going to increase the wages of
those of the other members of the company. The
captain turned to the crew and said any objections?”
“You bet not, captain, Jake said, thank you

Mr. Mathews.
The captain continued. “People of this ship,
the Dainty Rose, I now pronounce these people as a
married trio. Congratulations.” The partying went on
for five hours and then they made headway to a new
future.
The row boat put out from the Dainty Rose
with five of the crew rowing to the shore. They then
dragged the boat up to the sand. Harry said,
“Andrew, no one could love a better brother or
friend as you. I am really blessed and I want also to
say, I am really blessed with you Angela, and you
Annabel. Harry walked towards Andrew and put his
arms around him. Bye Andrew.”
“Bye, bye Harry. They kissed each other and
then the crew played the Jolly Rodger on their flutes.
The boat was pushed out and Harry shouted, “I will
drop off now and again to see you.”
“Don’t forget, and we will come see you to.”
They watched the boat as it went and then
Andrew said, “Let’s go darling’s, life is a-waiting.”
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1 | A Witch for the Burning: J.

A WITCH FOR THE BURNING

It is a pleasure to present this book to you, it

companions, as if it is inevitable that where there is

You have the choice, attainment of wonders

The story of Angela is based on a true event

goes and is but a distant memory we will still have

called prophecies that the bible writers used

Some of the strict laws were watered down or

{I think we should add these as well, don’t

I would like very briefly to give a few other

Do we have to go much further than this,

The story of the flood is hardly worth the

in different ways and produce the outcome, or the

For 45 years plus, through all kinds of means,

It probably would take a volume to get

the ground and bathe, in truth and reality, which will

It was a grayish day. The clouds had knotted

The church as a whole was so big, that it

no, - even more so. Its god never intervened, and if

retreats and more power. It was run well, in fact very

in that which you believe, and thus he was

The nun standing there, sweet, naïve to the

the Black Death was still prevalent and thousands

“No.” The young girl uncomfortably shifted.

sure you keep to the rule of silence. God likes a

amazed at the events that had taken place and trying

schooling, was a little extravagant, as it was mostly

It was hot on the day in question; almost not a

were monotonous especially as she could almost

She knew the poverty of the towns and cities

with her hand, the only thing that could possibly be

his slim waist leading down to tight trousers and

The routine stayed fairly much the same, the same

flayed and tortured thinking that this would appease

The epidemic seemed to decline about the

“Sister Angela, will you come to my office in

“I have a slight idea, Mother.”

there was at the end of the tunnel. However, Mother

She fingered the protruding nipples and held

“Now my beloved, we will glorify the name

“The witch hunters are coming to the town in

wishes to give a talk on the reason they are coming

“Yes, father.” A young nun rose probably out

The witch hunters arrived and attracted much

There was one girl of fourteen years tied by

“I don’t know any god. I thought I did. I think

“Yes, often. Often.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice Gertrude for us both to

The following day, a storm blossomed, its

like matchwood and to top it all, a flock of ducks

Her hair had slightly grown and though it

that they are pleasing their god. The best is when it

“I was a slave. Perhaps I still am. I am lucky

“That he wants you.”

She peeled her clothes off throwing them to

was done, purring with delight as if in a hymn to her

Spring time in any country is beautiful but

another organization that will see to its running. This

arduous. So Angela tell me about where you were

‘The wine created by the gods, drank by

“You are welcome, Angela. Ok, now what

it. “Give me a while to think, there must be some