tagHumor & SatireWhich Witch?

Which Witch?


Copyright Oggbashan September 2017

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.


"Sky-Clad? Naked? At midnight on top of a hill? At the end of October? Have they got any sense?"


My younger sister Chloe had rung my mobile while I was eating my solitary evening meal. Her timing is impeccable. She only rings when I'm eating or driving. I put my fork down.

"Graham? Are you doing anything next Saturday night?"

"No. Not at present. It's Saturday today. I'm not planning as far ahead as next Saturday. Why?"

"I've just had a call from Helen. You know Helen, Helen the witch..."

"Yes. I know Helen. Helen, the leader of her coven. I assume it's Helen as the witch who rang you."

"Yes, Graham. Saturday is the tenth anniversary of the founding of their coven."


"Like all the local covens they have a visiting male wizard for their significant events."

"But Ralph does that for Helen. After all, he is her husband."

"Yes, Graham. He is. But he is temporarily in a wheel chair with swollen ankles. His horse threw him while he was drag hunting."

"I've told him, Chloe. You've told him. He's not a good enough horseman to follow a hunt."

"I know. So does Helen. But Ralph can be a pig-headed..." Chloe stopped.

I knew why. Neither of us have a good opinion about Ralph. He is opinionated, incompetent as a wizard, and sometimes an arsehole to Helen. We don't know why she married him.

"So Helen wants me as a replacement? What are their rituals?"

"I don't know," Chloe said. "If you're willing to help then Helen will have to explain exactly what she needs. All I do know is that they meet on top of the Tor..." Chloe paused. "...sky-clad."

"Sky-Clad? Naked? At midnight on top of a hill? At the end of October? Have they got any sense? Surely they'll have more goose-pimples than magic?"

"I know, Graham. I'm not looking forward to it. I'm going because Helen asked me to make up the numbers. One of their coven will be away so I'll be sky-clad too. I think they're stupid. They're even sky-clad for Beltane and New Year's Eve -- silly bitches. And they can't have a fire. It would be seen for miles."

The Tor is a prominent rocky hill about five miles from our town. It is easy to climb even after dark if you know the way. In good daylight weather the views are great but it's exposed to any winds. For significant events a beacon is erected and a fire lit in a metal cage on top. But the beacon pole can't be permanent because the strong winds would knock it over. It is held up temporarily by guy ropes. It can't be fixed because the Tor is a scheduled ancient monument with the remains of a Bronze Age fortlet surrounding the summit.

"So, Chloe, assuming I'm available on Saturday, which I am, what now?"

"Could you ring Helen direct? I was going to ring her back if you weren't free on Saturday. If you speak to her you can talk about the details."

"OK, Chloe. When I've finished my meal, I'll ring her."

"Oops! Sorry! Did I ring while you were eating, Graham?"

I sighed.

"Yes, Chloe, as you usually do."

"Sorry again, Graham. But you'll ring Helen?"

"Yes. In about twenty minutes."

"Thanks, Graham. I'll send her a text to say you will ring. Bye!"

I went back to finish my slightly warm meal. I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. I sat back down at the table with an open notebook and a pen. I scrolled through the contacts on my mobile to find Helen, listed as 'Helen the Witch'. I rang her.

She was eating her evening meal. We arranged that I would meet her in the coffee shop in the High Street tomorrow morning. Ralph would be leaving early to drive the hundred miles to visit his parents. She'd start her washing machine and come on to meet me.


I waited outside the coffee shop for Helen. On a Sunday morning it was unusually quiet in the High Street. As she arrived she said 'Hello' as if it was an unexpected meeting. She whispered to me to wait outside for a couple of minutes before joining her in the private alcove at the back of the coffee shop.

When I sat down Helen explained that she had booked the alcove but didn't want us to be seen going in together. The private alcove was often used for couples who were cheating on their spouses. She didn't want people to get the wrong idea. Apart from the staff bringing the coffee, and they were known to be discreet, no one else could see or hear anyone in the private alcove.

"Why the secrecy, Helen?" I asked. "I know you want to talk coven details but we are friends. Being seen together isn't suspicious even though Ralph would usually be with us too."

"It's Ralph. He's jealous of you."

"Of me? Why? I've never..."

"Not since I was married, Graham, but before..."

I admit it. I blushed. Helen had been an adventurous girlfriend for a few months a couple of years before she met Ralph. Apart from witchcraft and energetic sex we hadn't found much in common. Our relationship had burned out quickly, leaving interesting memories of entwined bodies and an enduring friendship. We had liked each other but the sex hadn't turned into love.

"I was history long before Ralph," I protested.

"Yes, I know. But Ralph thinks I might want to revisit that history."

"Then he's..." I stopped myself. Ralph is her husband.

"...unreasonably jealous," Helen finished for me.

I would have said something much stronger but Helen had chosen Ralph. What I might think about him I shouldn't say to his wife.

"When did we last meet? I think it's more than a year ago."

"It was at that boring Chamber of Commerce dinner dance. You came with Chloe because her husband was at a conference. When was that? Eighteen months ago?"

"And you came with Ralph. If we haven't met since then how can he be jealous?"

"I just don't know, Graham. I don't know."

"Does he know I'll be helping your coven?"

"Yes. He knows. That's why he's jealous of you -- again."

"Why? I'm doing it as a favour to a friend. What has he got to be jealous about?"

It was Helen's turn to blush.

"He doesn't like our coven's seasonal rituals. OK, he likes being a wizard and taking part in their meets, but he resents the coven's treatment of him."

"Why? Should I resent them too? Are they that terrible?"

"No, Graham, but we are a coven of witches. The visiting wizard has to..." Helen paused. "...is used..." She paused again before blurting out "submits to the witches. He becomes the male identity overcome by the female. It isn't really humiliating for the wizard because it's just play acting. It can be enjoyable for him to have thirteen women wanting his body but..."

"But Ralph doesn't like the idea of submission?" I suggested.

Helen nodded.

"But you run his life."

Helen nodded again.

"He doesn't realise that I do. He thinks he's the one in charge of our marriage. I let him think that..."

"...but get your own way almost all the time?" I ended for her. "That's what you did with me. I knew you were doing it..."

"...and you still let me organise us most of the time. You made it clear that there were limits to what you would let me do. Even then you didn't make an issue of it. You told me why and we discussed those limits. Why did you allow me so much control?"

"I knew that you wanted to be in control and enjoyed being the boss. For me the compensation of going along with you was great sex. You rewarded me for my apparent submission."

"But I knew your submission was an act," Helen said.

"So was your control." I retorted. "We were reacting to each other, giving what the other wanted. But it couldn't last because both of us were faking it."

"Yet we were doing it to please the other. That seemed like love at the time."

"Seemed like? It was the first time we had been with someone who wanted the best for their partner. That was great while it lasted."

Helen kissed my cheek before putting her hands to my head and pulling us into a full kiss. We enjoyed that for a couple of minutes and were breathless when we broke apart.

"We shouldn't have done that," Helen said as she rummaged in her handbag.

She produced a pack of tissues. She leant forward and wiped my mouth.

"I'm removing the evidence," she said. "Oh. I've just remembered. Have you got a sword?"

"Yes, Helen. But it's an antique. It depends what you want me to do with it. It's very sharp, not a replica."

"You have to do is hold it up in its sheath for ten minutes, Graham. I take it, put it down, and before your submission I unsheathe it, hold it up for about thirty seconds, and then sheathe it again."

"It depends on your strength, Helen. It is long and heavy. I can manage to hold it up for ten minutes but I couldn't fight all day with it. One of my ancestors picked it up at the end of the Battle of Culloden. It is a Scottish claymore. The wooden sheath is later, early 19th Century I think. It is nearly as large as the Wallace sword at 150 centimetres or five feet. With the sheath it weighs 3 kilos or over six pounds. Whoever owned it must have been very tall to use it effectively. Is your wrist strong enough?"

I lifted and held her wrist. We kissed again for even longer this time. Helen dabbed at my mouth again.

"I think I'll need to freshen up my lipstick before we leave," she said before we kissed again and again.


It was a quarter of an hour before we got back to the real point of the meeting. Helen explained exactly what I as the visiting wizard would have to do. She would do the absolute minimum required for Halloween. Thirteen witches would be there but it wouldn't have all its normal members. My sister Chloe's presence would be a complication. A sister, being my blood relation, couldn't participate in the full ritual.

There were two other stand-in witches as well. The details of the ceremony didn't matter because Helen, as coven leader, would direct me at the time. What she wanted was to be sure that I would be willing to cooperate. Apparently Ralph could turn awkward at some points during the ritual. I assured Helen that I could do everything she wanted from me, even if some of it might be humiliating.

My consent led to a further bout of kissing. After Helen had used a tissue to remove lipstick traces from my mouth she went to the Ladies, repaired her lipstick and ordered more coffee on her way back. It was delivered quickly.

Helen moved slightly away from me.

"No more kissing," she announced.

She looked closely at my face.

"Why no girlfriend?" She asked abruptly. "You know how to kiss and how to please a woman, so why?"

"Until recently, Helen, no time and no money," I replied. "My house cost me too much. I had to do part time work as well as developing my business. My great-uncle left me a few thousand pounds a year ago. That was enough together with my business growth to take the pressure off. I had a girlfriend for a few weeks but she didn't tell me she was married and cheating while she was here on a month-long course. She sent me a text message after she left to go back home. That hurt. It still does six months later. She had been lying the whole time."

"Most of our coven know you, Graham. Some know you almost as well as I do but those are married. We have six unattached witches at present. I know at least June and Melanie of those six are actively partner hunting now. They've been moaning about the unsuitability of recent online dating encounters. Those two and all six want to meet you."

"Six! I know I'm reasonably fit but I can't manage six women," I protested.

"You won't have to. All thirteen of us want you for that night but for the reduced ceremony only one will actually..." Helen blushed.

"And that one is you?"

Helen nodded.

"No wonder Ralph is showing signs of jealousy now. He has been part of your ritual before and knows exactly what you'll do. If you were with an anonymous other? But with me, an ex-boyfriend? I can appreciate why he's unhappy."

"I'm unhappy too, Graham, but not about Saturday night. Our marriage is on the rocks because of Ralph's behaviour. He's unreasonably jealous. OK, I can accept that he might be for Saturday, but he has been jealous for months, nearly a year."

"Is there any reason for that, Helen?"

"No. No, that's why it's unreasonable. I haven't even considered anyone else. I might be annoyed with Ralph at times but he is the man I chose and married. He's changed over the last year and I don't know why. As far as I can tell it's nothing I've done or said. He hasn't accused me of anything specific. The jealousy seemed to come out of nowhere."

We made arrangements for me to come to the Tor at half-past eleven on that night. I would bring a sports bag to put my clothes in. I'd have to sling the sword across my back under my cloak. At the start I would be holding the sword and wearing a stag head mask.

Helen went to the Ladies room to repair her lipstick and left. She had asked me to wait five minutes before I left. I found she had already paid for our coffees.


A couple of days later I met my sister Chloe at our parents' house. When we were alone I asked if she could think of any reason why Ralph should be jealous of me.

"You, Graham? No. I could understand if he was jealous of Helen's boss. Simon took the manager's role a year ago. Helen gets on very well with him but he's happily married with two young children. Helen had to work long hours when Simon first arrived because she was the most senior person left in the office. Ralph might have resented that. But you've barely seen Helen for a couple of years."

"What's Simon like?"

Helen paused. She was obviously thinking.

"Simon could be an older you, Graham. He's the same build and height with similar colouring but at least fifty to your mid thirties."

"Could Ralph have mistaken Simon for me?"

"Simon isn't that like you. He stands differently. I know I'm your sister but I wouldn't confuse Simon and you at fifty yards. I don't think anyone else would either. There is a similarity if you and Simon are seen separately. Together? The differences are obvious."

"So it's unlikely Ralph is jealous of me because he thinks Simon is me?"

"Unlikely? Impossible. Or perhaps not as strong as that. Improbable."

"OK. Improbable will do. I wonder..."

"...why Ralph is jealous? So do I. I can't think of any reason for that."


About an hour before midnight on Halloween I parked my car close to the Tor. I took the sports bag and sheathed claymore. I slung the claymore across my back. The hilt of the claymore was obvious, sticking out higher than my head even when I was wearing the cloak over it. There were three other cars in the car park. In one a couple were dogging frantically. I could see a bobbing naked backside despite the steamed up windows. One of the cars was Helen's.

I set out to climb the Tor. The moon helped when it was visible between the broken clouds. It isn't a difficult climb in daylight but I didn't want to use a torch unless I had to. I didn't want curious locals watching the coven, even if most of them knew the Tor was used by witches on Halloween. I was wearing hiking boots that protected my toes when I stubbed a foot on a projecting rock.

As I got close to the top I could see a dim light behind a large rock. It would only be visible from the moor behind, not from any houses. As I thought Helen was already there, not yet sky-clad. She was well wrapped up in a padded coat that hinted at her considerable assets. I put the sports bag down, shed my cloak, and unslung the claymore. I passed it to Helen.

"Try this for weight, Helen," I said.

She took the sheathed claymore and raised it vertically before lifting it two-handed with the hilt before her face. She held it in position for about ten seconds before lowering it and giving it back to me.

"Yes, Graham. I can do that. Thirty seconds will seem long but I'll manage."

I leant the sheathed claymore against a flat table-like rock. Helen laughed.

"That's the right place for it. That's our altar."

Helen unzipped the front of her coat, pulled it wide and hugged me. Her breasts pressed against my shirt, her erect nipples very obvious. I slid my arms around her waist inside her coat as we kissed, gently at first and then more passionately than we had kissed for years. If Ralph could have seen us now he would have a reason for his jealousy.

We broke the kiss as we heard feet scrambling up the path to the top of the Tor. Helen's coat was zipped up again as four women reached us. All four of them hugged and kissed me. As the rest of the coven arrived I was kissed again and again, except by my sister Chloe who just stroked one of my cheeks with her hand. June's kissing was the most enthusiastic, nearly as demanding as Helen's.

Ten minutes before midnight there was some concern because only twelve women had arrived. Melanie was missing. She was almost running and out of breath when she reached us with five minutes to spare.


At one minute to midnight I was standing in front of the altar, naked except for the stag head mask and my hiking boots. I was holding the sheathed claymore erect with the boss of the hilt at my waist. At midnight I raised the sword until the hilt was in front of my face. The thirteen naked women danced around the altar in a circle chanting in Latin. I knew the meaning of their words. They were a plea to the Goddess for fertility and good fortune for the coming year.

The women continued to chant and dance for another ten minutes as I was getting colder and colder.

Helen came forward and gently took the sword from me. She put it down in front of the altar. She reached up to remove my mask as the singing ended in a shout. As she put the mask down twelve women rushed at me, grabbed me and lifted me on to the altar stone. It had been covered with a fake fur sheepskin so was soft underneath me. Each of my arms and legs was held by three women as Helen straddled my chest. Naked breasts pressed against my exposed skin.

Helen moved up my body until her cleft was just above my face. She lowered herself gently as another sung invocation reached a crescendo. At the last word she pressed downwards, spreading her lower lips with her fingers to seal my mouth and nose. I had taken a breath just before my air was cut off. Helen held that position for about twenty seconds before lifting herself slightly.

Two of the women who had been holding my legs passed my sheathed claymore to Helen. She held it vertically as her lower lips pressed down again. It wasn't a perfect seal because she hadn't spread her lips but my breathing was impaired. Behind her I could feel hands fitting a condom to my erection. Helen passed the sword to another woman before she shuffled down my body. As she reached my erection she took back the unsheathed claymore. Helen held the naked blade upright.

"The sword is the symbol of male strength and aggression," she said loudly. "Erect and naked it is strong. But it has to yield and surrender to the strength of the Goddess made flesh in woman. Sheathed in a female it gives up its strength and power to become weak and useless."

She held her position with the sword erect until thirty seconds had passed from her first word. She lowered the sword and carefully passed it to my sister Chloe who sheathed it. Chloe laid the sheathed claymore gently beside the altar.

"Goddess! Receive your sacrifice!"

Suddenly Helen pushed down on my erection carefully positioned by another woman's hands. As she engulfed me, June's cleft covered my face. June was heavier built than Helen. I couldn't breathe as she pushed downwards. Helen hadn't told me this part of the ritual. I came into the condom.

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