Feature Writer: Harry Lime
Feature Title: The Straw Woman
Published: 02.02.2014 / Copyright© 2014 by harry lime
Story Codes: Mf, NC, Mind Control, Magic, Humiliation, Group Sex, Anal, Clergy, Violent, Transformation
Synopsis: A quiet little village that seemed so normal on the surface. A curse by a long-lived witch against her own sister caught stealing her lover away. An innocent young witch caught in a web of evil intent. Which way will she go. Will she follow the dictates of the Prince of Darkness or will she follow her own heart and develop her powers without the help of Satan?
The Straw Woman – Chapter 1
Rumors are a funny business.
Nobody ever knew where they actually start and how many times the basic facts are changed by the ears and mouth of the hearer of the story.
Upper Granville was a place where rumors had been the principle method of spreading the news about important happenings for a very long time. The system was both familiar and well-respected to the old-timers living in Upper Granville. Some of the newly arrived in the area were not happy about the lack of a dependable newspaper to inform the citizenry of important events that had taken place or were about to take place in the normally quiet and serene rural setting.
Those recalcitrant newcomers were deemed troublemakers and ignored by the rank and file.
The major industries of the quiet little village on the edge of the more progressive urban center and suburban strip areas were agricultural, of course, and the making of fine furniture. Some of the oldest families in Upper Granville were involved in the furniture making trade and had been for several generations. The most famous furniture maker, “The Granville Furniture Company” was at the forefront of the pack for over a hundred years until the entire affair was burned down in the terrible blaze of “04” actually, 1904 to be more exact. The craftsmen resident in and around Upper Granville were fortunate to be on the river that carried the logs from the forest tracts right into their well-maintained lumber mill that produced the wood products needed to create furniture masterpieces. I should hasten to add that there is no Lower Granville or even a Granville itself because the entire collection of habitation melded together over time without rhyme or reason and took the name of Upper Granville because it just sounded more genteel.
The only Granville left in the village now was Granny Granville who was reputed to have practiced some sort of witchcraft in her early years after graduating from the distant University that awarded her a degree in English Literature. The glory days of furniture making had lost their glow now what with the import of cheap but functional products from Asia and Eastern Europe.
The long entranceway into Granny Granville’s estate was lined with various farming implements and a particularly impressive straw figure sitting high on a cross tree hacked from virgin wood. It was difficult to tell if the figure was male or female but the feminine hat and the long fingernails made of an undetermined material indicated it was intended to be of the female persuasion. Some folks said,
“That’s Granny Granville’s sister up there. She annoyed old Granny when she stole her gentleman away just because she liked to be as bad as any female can ever manage.”
It was true that the straw figure up on the cross resembled old Granny more than most folks would like to speculate. The children passing on their way to school sort of ran by the thing and never looked up because their parents told them if the horrible thing ever caught any unsuspecting soul’s eye it would switch places with him or her and they would have to spend the remainder of their days looking down in agony.
Bonnie Knightley was considered to be a problem child. At least, that is what her teachers and the minister down at the Abbey wrote in their diaries monitoring such things in the eventuality of some future dire happening. If the truth be known, young eighteen year old Bonnie was a bit of a dreamer and not prone to listening to silly rumors or whispers behind her back. In fact, her family was resident in the valley long before the first Granville ever showed up with their notions of starting the first furniture factory. The Knightley’s were farming folk and keep to the old ways as many in the district were wont to do.
The young girl was fair of face and figure but the young lads kept their distance because it was said,
“She’s got the evil eye!”
In retrospect, it was probably just the jealous accusations of a less attractive schoolmate seeking to remove competition before she gained a foothold scouting about in the meager fold of handsome male bachelors. Whatever the initial reason, Bonnie was outside the circle of “normal” society in the scattered environs and cared not a whit about what others thought about her. She was caught up in the reading of dubious compositions of a licentious nature thought to be an instrument of the Devil. The silly females with their focus on matters well below their waistline would stare at her and chant with mean-spirited intent,
“Satan is a-waitin for you!”
The young girl just shrugged off their animosity and went about her business with little concern about their meddlesome ways.
Bonnie was disturbed from her reading activities to deliver a basket of fresh brown eggs to Granny Granville’s mansion at the specific instruction from her impoverished mother who sold her wares to anyone with coins regardless of their lineage or reputation. She didn’t overly mind the distraction because it would allow her to mingle with the young stable hands that were mostly from an outside manor. Her youth and good looks were more appreciated by males with little knowledge or concern about her reputation for connections to the prince of darkness.
The straw woman looked down and saw the light-footed approach of a young girl with the look of an unsuspecting disciple. She had been relegated to the watch for so long that it was difficult to recall the original purpose of her sentinel duty. Her disgustingly determined sister had cast her into the realm of disregard like a sack of kittens into a stream of running water. She tried to remember her incantations but they escaped her wandering thoughts. She had been far too long in this land of the living dead.
The girl was coming closer now.
“Oh, magnificent one, fill your unworthy servant with the spell of transmutation and allow my escape from this desolate existence. I will be your tool in recruiting new followers to do your bidding at every opportunity. Please give me one last chance!”
Bonnie paused briefly under the shadow of the hanging straw woman. For some unavoidable reason, she looked up into the straw woman’s featureless face with the strong winter sun acting as a halo about the obscene eclipse.
She placed the basket of eggs safely on the ground and felt herself floating on air being sucked into a black hole of no return. After that, she had no cognitive thoughts at all except a sincere dislike for the birds that insisted on dirtying her faded clothing.
The vilest of the Granville sisters was once again in the human form of a young woman. She considered the basket of brown eggs at her feet. She remembered that she really hated eggs and most especially, brown ones. She knew her name. She knew she was headed to the Granville mansion and she knew that she was still a virgin for some strange and unbelievable reason. The re-born “Bonnie” looked up at the straw woman and smiled with terrible haunting malevolence.
It was time for this body to be initiated into the reason for existence. She needed to find the first virile male available so she could rid it of its pathetic wrappings of virginal innocence.
The drab grey bulk of stone and glass was surrounded by “gardens” that were more like forgotten weed patches rather than scenic displays of floral arrangements. The large inner cobblestone courtyard was bordered on one side by a stable of some considerable dimension and bustling activity. Bonnie could see the animals shuffling in their stalls. Some were the riding stock and other were the work animals that kept the farm in positive cash flow rather than marching into financial ruin like so many other family-owned enterprises.
The courtyard was speckled here and there with the horse’s offerings of valuable fertilizer periodically scooped up by an old woman with no smile and a wheelbarrow that had seen a better day. The old lady looked at Bonnie with an inquisitive glance but seeing the eggs in her basket lost interest in her for the more important task at hand. They all thought she was crazy to volunteer for the duty but the crafty old woman knew each heavy load represented “gold” to her customers who needed nutrients to spruce up their flowers and vegetables.
Two of the young lads lounging against the stable wall on a bench of questionable stability ventured to approach her and ask,
“What might a pretty young thing like you be doing here at this out of the way corner of hell?”
Bonnie smiled as brightly as she could because the images of what these boys were nesting under their rough clothing grated on her passion like fodder to a restless beast.
“My name is Bonnie and I am bringing these quality eggs for the cook’s consideration. My mother has done business with the kitchen staff before and we save all the brown eggs for your table. Everyone knows they have certain medicinal benefits. You boys look like they feed you well here at the Granville estate. My own neighborhood is fearsome short of handsome strapping chaps of your physique.”
The two young men preened visibly at the compliment and one of them even ventured a motion toward his crotch as if to advertise its prowess. Bonnie could not help but follow his hand to the destination and contemplate on the meaning of the visible bulge growing with each passing moment. The other young lad who made haste to introduce himself as “Ralph” was a bit on the shy side which immediately endeared him to the straw woman for her own nefarious reasons and also to the remnants of Bonnie’s persona that saw him as a desirable applicant for spousal contentment.
The young girl allowed the two men to lead her to the back of the stable where they commenced to investigate the goodies under her simple garments knowing she was inclined to allow all manner of liberties seldom seen in a predominantly male environment.
The boisterous lad called “Tommy” was a bit rough and rude in his handling of the egg vendor’s feminine delights, but the shy young man called Ralph was noticeably more circumspect in his handling of Bonnie’s generously proportioned breasts and her sturdy flanks.
The farm girl was conflicted because her naturally delicate behavior as the innocent little Bonnie was uncomfortable with the straw woman’s decadent desire to experience rough use of her attributes. She was able to reconcile the contrast in attitude by taking the middle ground in the tableau and voicing displeasure beyond a certain point of indelicate exploration. The two sex-starved males were so happy to have any bones tossed their way that they seemed satisfied with her limited favors hoping to convince her to greater participation at a later date.
The straw woman was incensed at Bonnie’s reluctance to spread her legs at her commands and wondered how the girl was able to resist her takeover of her bodily functions and granting of sexual favors. Slowly she accepted the fact that the girl had powers of her own that in many ways were superior to her own gifts and she relaxed enough to see where they would go as an equal partnership.
Bonnie delivered the eggs to the cook and received three coins of appropriate value. She knew the coins would delight her mother and hopefully preclude a spanking for being tardy.
She could see old Granny Granville shouting some sort of vicious nonsense in the main hall of the massive structure but made no effort to get any closer. Bonnie was curious, but the straw woman knew her sister was far too perceptive to risk such proximity. Even at that distance, she saw the old woman lift her head up in the air and sniff in every direction like she was some sort of hunting hound hot on the track of elusive prey.
Bonnie took her leave of the Granville mansion but not before she made arrangements with the handsome Ralph to meet the following Sunday near the local chapel. He was hot to meet her but reluctant to commit to actually going inside a place of worship.
The straw woman thought it to be an excellent plan but Bonnie had some fantasies of being joined in matrimony at the chapel’s tiny alter. It was enough to almost make the straw woman gag in disgust but she was wise enough to bide her time.
The Straw Woman – Chapter 2
She bathed her lush young body in the comfort of the small kitchen in a tub made of simple copper. The smooth metal caressed her flanks with loving arms of hard tenderness. The malevolent straw woman was deep inside her core but pretty Bonnie had her well under control extracting her much wanted experience and blocking her wanton urgings to couple with the first available male with a cock of sufficient size to warrant her dark rider’s attention.
Bonnie knew it was long past that time when she should have opened her flower to masculine explorations, but she was, in truth, a bit fearful of the endeavor. She had attempted to become more familiar with the workings of the male appendage by allowing the pastor to offer the solace of his lap and the insertion of his anointed shaft into her nether entry. The old man grunted with obvious delight but poor Bonnie just thought to be a rude treatment of her elimination system and totally a waste of time.
She heard the straw woman’s whispers in her inner ear encouraging her to experiment more with younger more virile lads just to get the full effect of posterior passion. But it seemed a “dirty” business to her and one that young maids should not get involved into. She compromised by allowing several of the young farm hands to slide their randy rods up and down her greased up backside shooting their sinful wads onto her skin. She did enjoy the way the boys grunted and sweated working diligently to arouse her. In her heated thoughts, she could easily see how the insertion of their manly tools into her entryways would excite her juices to flow with womanly submissiveness.
When she finally lost her virgin status, it was entirely by accident. She was on yet another expedition to the Granville estate when she found that she was isolated in the wine cellar carefully transferring her eggs to the cool confines of a woven container. She thought she heard a noise but could see no shape or form anywhere in the basement. Invisible arms seized her from the rear and forced her over the wooden table used for many purposes. Unfortunately, this particular purpose involving her participation was to steal her virginal flower and make her full-fledged woman. Thinking it to be some kind of demonic apparition or a ghost with carnal intent, she resigned her attitude to futile resignation and made no demonstration of resistance at all.
The impalement was swift and effective. She was ready to feel discomfort but it was accomplished before she had any reaction to the loss of her unwanted cherry. Now she only felt a sense of fullness and completion that she had never experienced before. Her only thought was to find some way to convince her partner not to withdraw from her insides before she was able to derive the ultimate female expression of feminine pleasure.
The weight on her back and the louds groans of delight caused her to look over her shoulder because it certainly did not seem like the usual conduct for a horny demon or a sex-crazed ghost. Much to her astonishment, she saw that it was the Master at Arms, the head enforcer of law and civil conduct in Granville. He was a strong and well-endowed man of middle age who liked to sample the feminine wares of any female of the district who wandered into his sphere of influence. She did not know his name and all the townsfolk called him simply, “Master”.
His sturdy cock was working her into a sweaty lather like animals with no sense of propriety or genteel behavior. She wanted to shout out that she was not that kind of girl, but, in all honesty, she had to admit it was exactly what she had been waiting for ever since she had learned about the “birds and bees” from the other girls at her school.
The straw woman buried deep inside her core was absolutely delighted. This is what she had been waiting for after all those many years of hanging from the wooden pole. Now she had a pole of manly flesh exploring her hidden corners with firm authority and juicy control. She hoped that the silly young Bonnie allowed the well-hung man to take further liberties with her flesh and let her reach the apex of her long-denied orgasm.
Bonnie was in the throes of a nice satisfying series of minor orgasms that were triggered when the Master shoved his rude finger into her tight little pucker hole with no warning at all. Her arse cheeks were still quivering with the affront and she ventured a tiny gasp of dismay at his disregard for her maidenly innocence. All thoughts of such niceties disappeared however when he continued to work the anal entry with a frenzied hand showing his contempt for any pretense of “good girl” membership.
Before the aggressive man loosed his flood of juice deep inside her happy vagina, he withdrew causing her to experience the despair of bitter loss. Her depression was immediately reversed when he pushed his cock into her buttery soft brown eye without missing a single beat. This was without a doubt the largest tool ever to take up residence in her hind-quarters and she began an age-old dance of appreciation that attempted to suck every last drop of manly juices from her covering partner.
The strong and well-experienced Master just chuckled and slapped her feisty bottom with his calloused and heavy hands until her flanks turned a beautiful shade of red and trembled with anticipation of the next blow.
The flood of creamy cum was already started when Bonnie went into a convulsive orgasm that brought a knowing smile of pride in his work to the face of the Master. Deep inside her gut, the straw woman was vibrating with joy at the waves of pleasure washing over her ancient life-force and she knew that from here on out, this pretty young girl would be keeping her happy with lots of juicy experiences and depraved activities.
The Master put his tool away and slapped the young girl on the backside telling her,
“You have a mighty sturdy bottom, girl. I can’t remember when I had such a satisfying ride. What might your name be?”
Bonnie smoothed down her clothing with a hint of shame in her eyes. It was hard for her to admit that she was much excited by the entire episode that was out of character with her normal behavior. She tried to find an excuse for her actions and blamed the straw woman. The old hag inside her just laughed at her feeble misdirection and told her,
“It’s not me you silly girl. It’s you what wants the cock!”
She exited the Granville estate without talking to the mistress of the house not wanting to expose her shame still visible on her face.
After that episode, Bonnie hastened to follow the orders of the Master at Arms whenever he required her presence. Her favorite spot was bent over his desk in the jailhouse with the randy prisoners watching her shame and humiliation at the Master’s hands. It was soon rumored that she was Master’s property and young lads had better steer clear to avoid his displeasure.
With the young men banished from her circle of male admirers, Bonnie didn’t hesitate to accept the pleas of older married men and a couple of the new ministers in training at the local church. They were all exceedingly grateful for her favors and she learned many new variations on the basic pleasure of taking cock in all of her happy entryways to paradise. She soon gained the reputation of having the sweetest and friendliest bottom of the entire village for anyone secure enough in his position to savor her nubile flesh.
The straw woman was overjoyed with her dalliance with the two young trainee ministers and she begged and pestered Bonnie to try them both at the same time so she could experience the pleasure of two anointed cocks assailing her flesh in coordinated depravity. She even incited the young girl to recite a prayer when being taken from the rear to heighten the minister’s in training sense of sinful behavior.
Bonnie did this just to humor the dark rider inside her but found that the act also made her frenzied in her motions and that she slipped from the prayer into vile curses exhorting the young males into further depravities of humiliation. She did act possessed but she felt in control knowing that she was doing it more for her own pleasure and not the old hag inside her.
The Master at Arms was upset at her disgraceful conduct and placed her in the stocks behind the jail. He allowed the male prisoners to sport her naked body with whatever teasing they could devise in their addled perverted minds.
They were allowed to use her backside for carnal pleasure but not to enter her feminine private parts. Fortunately, Bonnie was well greased in that entry and there was no lasting damage. The straw woman was in seventh heaven transported to a Nirvana of orgasms and dissolute fantasy. She gave strength to Bonnie’s legs and shielded her mind from the degradation absorbing it all inside her evil shell.
The Master was surprised that Bonnie was not in the least disturbed by the exercise and he wondered if she was filled with some ungodly spirit or demonic presence. He did not suspect how close he was to the truth because it was just too impossible to take as reality.
She was still in the stocks taking each male prisoner in turn inside her wet and slimy mouth when the Master decided to free her from her bonds and allow her to return to her home. He actually felt some sense of guilt because she had taken it all with a bouncy attitude and seemed to hold no grudge against him. He wished he was not already with a spouse and several small ones because he could see great benefit in having the girl safely inside his household.
Only a short week later, a new magistrate came to the village and selected Bonnie to work in his residence as both cook and maid. He was not accompanied by a spouse because the good lady had expired most recently from a bout with some unknown malady that set her low in less than a week. His daughter Emma traveled with him. She was a thin little thing with thick glasses and the manner of a bird about to take flight at the slightest provocation. Bonnie took an immediate liking to her and was happy to dress her and bathe her when required. Emma was a shy thing prone to exaggeration and fancy fantasies about romance and affairs of the heart. The father was a stern looking man but Bonnie soon saw he was possessed of a very soft interior with a consistency of melted butter.
The magistrate who was called “Your Lordship” by all residents of the Upper Granville manor made pronouncements rather than statements and his questions seemed more like guarded interrogations rather than simple requests for information. That did not bother Bonnie because she like such assertiveness in a male and found that his immediate presence was a cause for her pussy to quiver in sweet anticipation and hopeful invitation to his interest.
Unfortunately, the good magistrate whose given name was Christian Brother adhered to the straight and narrow in all things especially when it came to petitioning females for their favors. On several occasions poor Bonnie did everything except strip naked in front of him to arouse his manhood without the slightest degree of success. It was frustrating for her to admit defeat but she knew it was quite close to a hopeless cause to excite the placid man into sinful converse with a humble servant.
The fact that young Miss Emma Brother was much agreeable to Bonnie’s company did lead to the pious magistrate’s downfall on a cold winter night. Bonnie had shared the young girl’s bed to help keep her feet warm and was most shocked when the tipsy parent came into the bedroom to “tuck” his daughter in.
His worship patted and prodded the bundle he thought was his darling daughter just to make sure she was comfortable and ready for a good night’s sleep. He accidently came into contact with Bonnie’s generous boob and explored it quizzically mystified at its sudden growth spurt. One thing led to another and before she could even say a word, the magistrate was spooning her ample bottom from behind and his long-dormant cock was firmly lodged into the back-end of her welcoming cunt. The good man realized it was the maid and not his daughter right away and continued down a happy path to eventual spilling of his respected seeds into her greedy pussy.
Bonnie felt quite different with this unexpected coupling and lay trembling with emotion and a sense of fulfillment she had never experienced before. Her worse fear was that the good man would think her a sinful girl and not worthy of his connection. He whispered in her ear as he eased out of the bed,
“That’s a good girl, Bonnie, thank you for seeing to my needs.”
She realized the next morning that their relationship would be a covert one unknown to any others. That was perfectly fine with her because she discovered she had developed tender feelings toward the widower and his young daughter that seemed very close to having an actual family. Only time would tell if her future would be entwined with theirs.
The Straw Woman – Chapter 3
The possession of her body by the malevolent witch was an accomplished deed by the time that Bonnie decided she would marry the minister and make a home for him and his lovely daughter. She had discovered that the man of the cloth had the ability to carry her to the apex of orgasm in any of her openings and she did not want to lose his attentions to some other man-chasing widow with a mean-spirited nature.
She still was submissive to the Master at Arms who regularly beat her backside red in front of the prisoners to further degrade her sensitivities. He had no idea that the evil witch inside her found his depravity refreshing in a land of petty perverts.
Bonnie held the opposite side of the wooden table tightly so she would not slip when the Master applied his much-feared cane with unerring accuracy on her tender bottom. She was forced to sob with the passion of tortured flanks and the knowledge that a dozen men were watching her disgrace. She also was fully aware that the final torment was yet to come when the enforcer of law would stretch her nether hole with his monstrous tool of “Justice”. He had given her justice on numerous occasions and she was astonished at the way he was able to maintain a hard erection for so long a period of time. Many times she had gone into the final throes of orgasm with multiple explosions whilst he pounded away non-stop to the cheers of the troublemakers incarcerated in the jail.
She didn’t look over her shoulder because she knew the Master did not want to see her face when he was inserting his tool into defenseless brown eyes. He liked to stay focused on the objective and watch the entire operation as her sphincter was forced to open in helpless surrender. The prisoners were laughing at her discomfort and the sight of their laughing faces made her ashamed for the fact she was enjoying the session too much for her own good. The ancient witch hidden deep inside her core loved this kind of play and she was tingling with pleasure from the top of her scalp to her toenails.
It was difficult for Bonnie to adjust to the thought that she might marry the widowed minister and become a family with him and his teenaged daughter. In fact, she was not that much older than the daughter and the father had mistaken her rump for his daughter’s on a dark night. Not that he was taking advantage of the young girl, just being familiar in the closeness of a darkened room. She knew he had a bit of a fixation on the daughter and it didn’t bother her at all to call him “Daddy” when the lights were out. At this point, Bonnie knew that the two personas had merged into one and in many respects the resulting personality was superior to either party. It was true that the witch was powerful, but Bonnie had a strong personality of her own and it went back generations into the mystical beginnings of the region and the beliefs of the “Old Ones” ones who had knowledge of secrets that remained unseen for hundreds of years. She felt that the new Bonnie was more Bonnie than witch and she did her best to control the impulses of the mean-spirited witch and direct her attentions to the demands of being successful in a society that valued power and wealth more than goodness and idealistic intentions.
Young Emma knew there was a change in the relationship of her new friend Bonnie and her father but she was not certain of the extent of their ardor. She pretended to be sound asleep one night and listened to her father mounting the pretty maid and silently pounding her until she was forced to sigh and whimper her sweet surrender. It was what the young girl needed to confirm their union.
The marriage bans were announced the following Sunday and the Master at Arms laughed out loud in the back of the church. Bonnie’s face was red and several of the previously incarcerated males smiled behind their hands knowing her service to the Master was common knowledge.
Emma was overjoyed and she baked a cake to celebrate the announcement. It was a delicious cake even if she ran out of the oil and had to use butter. The father snuck into the girl’s bedroom and anointed Bonnie’s backside with his sticky emission tiptoeing back outside so as not to wake up the daughter. After Bonnie cleaned up the evidence, the younger girl slipped into her bed and snuggled up tight to her bosom. Eventually, they became intertwined like lovers and scissored their legs into a happy massage of feminine folds. It was something entirely novel for Bonnie but the crafty witch of yesteryear knew the way of these things with her extensive experience in midnight covens under the light of the moon. She guided Bonnie’s movements with sensuous control and the young girl fell into a swoon of contentment that knew no bounds.
The wedding was a small affair and it was better to keep it so because there was some mumbling about the age difference between the man of the cloth and the young bride. The daughter was the maid of honor and one of the churchman’s deacons acted as the best man to round out the entourage.
One of the onlookers happened to be the witch’s sister who was merely curious to see the spectacle in the middle of the town. She noticed immediately that there were no flowers inside the church or outside the church. The bride had none in her hand and their absence seemed decidedly odd.
She looked into Bonnie’s eyes and did not like what she saw. She recognized the creature inside to be her banished sister and scampered away to confirm that the scarecrow was still in place. When she saw the tormented eyes of the young girl on the stake, she knew her crafty sister had done a switch and taken the mortal soul of a human girl for her own. Before she could do anything to reverse the process, the forest watcher, Mother Nature, intervened and told her to mind her own business. That was too much for her and she was tempted to disobey but when she saw the magic wand of punishment, she repented and merely went back into her castle and tried to forget what she had seen. Besides, it looked to her like the girl had taken more control of her sister than the other way around.
The man of the cloth did his level best at begetting but somehow his little seeds of creation were not sturdy enough to make the journey up into Bonnie’s ready womb. Anticipating a challenge of this sort, the girl went to the Master at arms and petitioned for several of the inmates to take turns on her primed and fertile slit to insure she would present her husband with a child to seal their union.
It came to pass that within two months, she was swollen of belly and the husband was bragging in all quarters that would slow down long enough to listen that he had begun the cycle of like yet again with the young Bonnie and that there was still a lot of life left in the old dog.
Emma was overjoyed at the news but was afraid the new family member would affect their relationship. Bonnie assured her that such would not be the case and punctuated her protestations with showers of kisses in those places that the young girl liked them the very best.
For some strange reason, the pregnancy seemed to place the ancient witch inside a capsule of containment and she started to take a back seat to Bonnie’s psyche and overwhelming core of goodness. Eventually, the union of the two personalities became more subdued and less contentious.
The birth of Amanda Jane was a time of celebration for the household and the fact she had blond hair was shoved aside as just a freak of nature despite the fact that no relative on either side had fair hair going back several generations. Young Emma was a constant nanny to the child and it allowed Bonnie to enjoy some of the more social interactions that made her laugh.
A huge storm came up unexpectedly and swept up the scarecrow sucking it up into the clouds never to be seen again. The sister in the castle died peacefully in her sleep and was not buried in the church graveyard because the minister was doubtful about her state of grace.
When young Amanda Jane matured into puberty, she was notable for her piercing look that seemed to see right inside a person and know their inner thoughts. It was difficult for her to make female friends but as soon as her breasts began to bud, she attracted a horde of male followers who hovered in her sphere hoping for some crumbs of her favor.
The fields were fruitful, the farm animals were productive, and the young nubile maids proved to be unusually fertile even with the sprinkling of the slightest amount of seed. It was a time of contentment for the village and Amanda Jane had her pick of young lads to make a match. She settled on an older man of substantial means who had a fixation on her delectable heart-shaped rump much to her delight.
The legend of the “Straw Woman” became lost in light of other more interesting tales that speculated about strange happenings in the light of the moon.
THE END OF CHAPTER THREE