Authors note: special thanks go to Angel Love, my editor.
*
It was a dark, hot and humid night. Anne leaned over the banister on the patio to catch the soft humid breeze floating past her cheeks. She glanced up at the old gnarled oak tree in the garden and could not help thinking of what the shop keeper in the village had told her that afternoon. She could not prevent a cold shiver running up her spine.
Anne had just bought the old mansion house to get away from the stress and bustle of city life. She was a financial advisor and had made a lot of money in the city, but the job did not satisfy her. In her spare time she followed other pursuits, which engrossed her. She had never been interested in relationships. Her job and wealth were the only things that mattered. Now she had enough money, she wanted to explore new things. She wanted to remain active but also settle down. She had written a few pieces for Literotica in her spare time and gotten good reviews, and this encouraged her to continue. But Anne felt she needed a breakthrough and wanted to write her best work. Maybe this would be her stepping-stone to a wonderful new life!
Anne had felt very fortunate to be able to buy the old mansion. She was pleasantly surprised when she heard the asking price which for her was cheap and immediately settled the contract. Somehow the place had radiated an aura, which attracted her, but she could not place it in any logical context. After she heard what the shop keeper told her, she wondered desperately if she had made a mistake in buying the house.
The man had a pleasant way about him and after verifying that she if she was indeed the new owner of the old mansion, he drew her by the arm to the back of the shop and spoke to her in a soft whisper as if he expected someone to overhear; "Be careful around that house my dear!"
When she had asked why he smiled sadly and whispered, "Some things are better left unsaid; but suffice to say, that people can have things happen to them there, terrible things! He looked as if he wanted to say more but someone had come in and he had walked quickly back to the counter leaving her nonplussed.
All day she tried to imagine what he meant by those "terrible things" and now leaning over the banister, hearing the eerie rustle of the leaves in the humid darkness she suddenly did not feel comfortable at all.
She went inside and turned on all the lights and inspected the house once more to appease her fears. It looked very appealing with its big bedroom overlooking a wonderful garden, its orate ceiling and chandeliers in mint condition, a beautiful kitchen with all the mod cons, and a lovely lounge area with an open hearth for those cold winter nights. Only the huge cellar beneath the house needed work, but she would have time enough to finish that.
"I am very fortunate," she thought to herself, "and I shouldn't be listening to old coots telling me village rumours. It's 2006 for God's sake!"
She felt a lot better, took a long hot bath, went to bed and slept fitfully.
The next morning Anne felt much better. She had slept well and felt refreshed as she admired her slender tanned body with perky upturned breasts. She mouthed a kiss to herself in the mirror and laughed inwardly as she combed her lustrous long black hair, thinking, "The man who finally gets this body, will have to really impress me!"
She had never cared for relationships in the past; no one could hold her interest for long, especially after the one she loved had suddenly died. She did not dwell on that but now lived for her fantasies, which took her further than any man (or woman for that matter) could. But she was someone who always kept her emotions in check, afraid of the unknown; she did not encourage anyone to get close to her.
She knew she had to change, but could not think of any situation that might instigate that.
Anne had just had a shower and was combing her hair when the doorbell rang. Dressed in her robe she went downstairs and opened the door.
The man who was standing there took her breath away; dark and very handsome with eyes that almost seemed to see right through her. He smiled brilliantly.
" Hello, I'm the local vicar, and I've just come to bring you a lovely pie my wife made to welcome you in our midst!"
Anne stammered, "O . . . oh th . . . thank you. Won't you come in?"
Inwardly Anne cursed herself for losing self-control. "My God he's married!" she thought to herself as she brought the pie to the kitchen.
Anne asked, "Would you like some coffee?"
The vicar sat down on an old leather lounge chair before saying, "This place has a history you know." He looked at her penetratingly and added, "Didn't you notice?"
Flustered, but not willing to admit to anything, Anne answered, " I know it's old, so it should have a history shouldn't it?"
"Yes," the charming vicar sighed crossing his legs. "Did you know that this house was built on a site used for very powerful pagan worship hundreds of years ago? It's rather unique you know." He looked at her curiously and asked, "Why did you buy it?"
Anne refused to rise to any bait and said flatly, "It was cheap."
"Yes," the handsome vicar said again, "Money is a good motive."
Anne replied sarcastically, "That's strange coming from a vicar! I thought spiritual matters were more important to people like you!"
He smiled at her, making her weak at the knees and kept her gaze till she broke it off. " I'm not that kind of vicar," he said. "I' m what you might call an Elemental Vicar."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I keep ancient traditions alive. Come to my church sometime and you will see what I mean Anne."
He stood, and said, "I must go now. It's been very nice meeting you. Enjoy the pie. My wife made it especially for you! And you are special, did you know that?"
Butterflies started flapping in her belly when he said those words; ones no one had said to her in that way for a long time; except John of course, but he was gone.
"Yes Vicar, if you say so," she muttered. Somehow his charm made her feel less than him. Through the window she watched his frame disappearing into the distance for some time.
Anne decided to not allow her disconcerting but fascinating meeting with the vicar to upset her plans for the morning. She would concentrate on her writing completely and not allow herself to be distracted by anything. Nothing mattered more now than writing her masterpiece!
But first she would have breakfast and drink the coffee the Vicar did not want. The pie looked very scrumptious so she cut a big slice and ate hungrily. It tasted marvellous, bursting with delicious red fruits and she could not resist taking another slice. Before Anne knew it she had eaten all of it!
"Now Anne, you have really done it! No more food for today!" she admonished herself. She had always taken pride in her figure, not wanting herself to get plump in any way. From a small age she had lived by the adage that a healthy figure is a healthy mind and had followed it through till today.
Now she was sitting behind her computer, with an empty screen waiting for the first words of her new novel to come to her. The cursor flashed but nothing happened. She had to concentrate! She closed her eyes, letting her mind go blank and started to write. Words appeared onto the screen. She did not read them, but inspiration came to her in waves. She did not consciously see or feel the words she was typing. She was typing and was happy to do so - finally! Words flowed, flawlessly from her fingers, faster than she could think. She felt outside of it all.
The only thing she noticed or felt was a deep low sounding drone in her head and a feeling of warm emptiness in her loins, like the feel one has going down on a roller coaster. Only now the feeling was concentrated all around her sex between her legs. She enjoyed the feeling and rode with it, all the time seeing her words flow over the computer screen, but not being aware of what they meant.
After a time the feeling of sexual pressure became so overwhelming, she had to touch herself, to somehow fill up the emptiness in her loins. She stopped typing and spread her thighs to bring her hands down to herself. She touched her thin panties and felt an enormous wetness there, wetness she had never experienced. Shocked she looked down and saw what she had done to the seat of the chair. As she rose to clean it up quickly and looked up at the screen, she saw what she had written. Her breath stopped in her throat!
Never in her wildest dreams had she been able to imagine the despicable sexual acts depicted in the enormous quantity of pages she had unconsciously written. Acts describing in lurid detail the wanton and perverse sex between her and the vicar, not to mention other unknown "players." Although she was enormously shocked, Anne could not tear her eyes away form the screen. So absorbed was she that she didn't realise that she had been rubbing herself furiously while she was reading until she felt herself Cumming powerfully through her soaking wet panties.
" My God!" she thought, "what's happening to me??"
She forcefully shoved herself off the chair with her arms and switched the computer off. Standing there, helpless with cum running down her legs, she cried out in frustration. But the thoughts of the Vicar doing unspeakable things to her did not leave her, but instead they intensified. In her minds' eye she could feel his eyes burning into her as he was doing things to her while she pleaded for more and more. Her cunt was getting wet again and she felt her clit.
"Mmmmmaaaaaahhhhhh I'm a slut!" she murmured to herself. "Fuck me vicar! Stick your fuckstick in my cunt!" all the while rubbing herself to oblivion.
A small voice inside her protested. "This is all wrong. Something is going on and I have to find out before I go mad!!"
Before she could let another thought in, she rushed to the shower, undressed as quickly as possible and let the ice cold water hit her body. Slowly her wild thoughts dissipated and she began to think clearly again.
Under the shower, the cold stream kept her head steady and she thought of the shopkeeper who had warned her. She would have to pay him a visit and possibly he could shed more light on what was happening to her. She had to find out!
As quickly as possible she dressed and had a stiff drink, hoping it would keep the wild thoughts at bay. Taking the car she sped to the shop and luckily it was open. Anne rushed inside and saw the shopkeeper. She dragged him to the back.
"Hey lady, what are you doing?" he protested.
She looked at him and whispered as menacingly as she could, "Look here, what you told me yesterday, I need to know more!"
He looked at her and suddenly a knowing look spread over his face. "You've had a visit from the Vicar I think . . .
" Yes!" Anne hissed, "Now tell me what he has done to me!"
"I have to be careful," the old man said, "the Vicar mustn't find out that I've been talking to you; understand?"
