Nasty Bitch Read online

  Nasty Bitch

  A Witches of Glory Woods Novel

  By K. Leitch

  Copyright ©Kay Leitch 2014

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the author.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First published 2014, updated January 2016

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3 – CAULDRON MEETING

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 6 – TRACY

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8 – MAGGIE

  CHAPTER 9 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 10 – HELEN

  CHAPTER 11 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 12 – TRACY

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14 – MAGGIE

  CHAPTER 15 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17 – HELEN

  CHAPTER 18 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 19 - CAULDRON MEETING

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 22 – TRACY

  CHAPTER 23 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 26 – HELEN

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 32 - CAULDRON MEETING

  CHAPTER 33 – TRACY

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 36 – HELEN

  CHAPTER 37 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 38 – MAGGIE

  CHAPTER 39 – TRACY

  CHAPTER 40 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 41 – MAGGIE

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43 – HELEN

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 46 – MAGGIE

  CHAPTER 47 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 48 – TRACY

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52 –CARLA

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 58 – MAGGIE

  CHAPTER 59 -CAULDRON MEETING

  CHAPTER 60 – CARLA

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62 - CAULDRON MEETING

  A NOTE FROM KAY

  PREVIOUSLY...

  NEXT TIME...

  CHAPTER 1

  The sky was leaden and the rain persistent as her plane touched down at London’s Gatwick airport.

  The woman smiled to herself, not even the dismal weather and her fear of being spotted could shake her excitement, she had been planning this for such a long time and at last she was here.

  She clambered out of her seat with some difficulty, stretching out her back and arms. She hated long-haul flights at the best of times but for the last couple of hours she had been feeling so sick with nerves, that she had had trouble keeping her composure. Her fellow passengers were all standing now ready to disembark, opening overhead lockers and surging towards the front of the plane, all eager to leave this metal tube in which they had been incarcerated in for the last eight hours. She shuffled to the end of her row of seats and smiled her thanks to the polite gentleman who allowed her to go out in front of him; he looked down slightly embarrassed by her smile. People tended not to catch her eye she had found, with her short, jet black spiky hair, dark eye makeup and multiple face piercings; she was more used to being stared at than smiled at. It was the perfect disguise, nobody had bothered the rather intimidating looking woman who had sat so quietly during the long flight, and they didn’t now as she made her lonely way through to passport control. They couldn’t see how fast her heart was beating or how her stomach was churning as she handed over her passport to the customs official at the desk. They had no idea of the feelings of relief that she felt when, after only a cursory look, he handed back the passport and moved on to the next passenger.

  The woman showed none of these emotions as she waited for her baggage to make its way slowly round on the carousel, the same kind man from the plane helped her to heave her enormous suitcase onto a trolley.

  ‘Is someone meeting you?’ he asked, she smiled her thanks and nodded, dismissing him, so with an awkward wave he went off to collect his own bags.

  With her bags secured onto the trolley, she walked through the ‘nothing to declare’ aisle without incident. Then as quickly as she could, without drawing attention to herself, she made her way to the toilets, which were situated amongst the many eateries and shops in Gatwick’s North terminal, locking herself and her suitcases into the larger space of the disabled cubicle.

  Once inside she only just made it to the toilet in time before she emptied the contents of her stomach, retching over and over again until there was nothing left inside her. She sat down on the toilet lid and forced herself to relax…she had done it, she was home. She didn’t know how long she sat there, she needed time to regain her composure, but eventually she stood up and filled the tiny wash basin with warm water. She washed her face and cleaned her teeth with the toothbrush that she had kept in her hand luggage, re-applied her dark eye makeup adding some dramatic red to her lips and ran her fingers through her hair, spiking it up again. Once satisfied with her appearance she pushed the unwieldy trolley back out into the main terminal heading for the exit. She scanned the faces of the small group of people that had gathered there to meet their relatives or friends. A group of over excited young girls suddenly let out a scream of delight as they ran round the barrier and into the arms of an elderly woman who was laughing with delight and trying to hug them all at once.

  She carried on walking, searching the crowd for a particular face as she did so; suddenly she spotted a man running over to the barrier calling and waving, her face relaxed and broke into a smile as she walked into his arms.

  ‘Good flight?’ he asked as he hugged her tightly.

  ‘Very smooth,’ Vanessa said smiling into his eyes, he took the heavy trolley from her and they walked arm in arm out of the bustling airport.

  CHAPTER 2

  Richard woke slowly; becoming gradually aware of searing pain in his arms, his head felt like it was about to explode and he was having trouble opening his eyes. It was so cold, he was shivering, his fingers and toes felt numb…he tried again to open his eyes, slowly, slowly his lids lifted and he began to focus on his surroundings.

  It was no wonder he was so cold…he was completely naked; his arms were hurting so much because they were stretched painfully above his head and tied very tightly by the wrists to some metal rings, which in turn were attached to a wall behind him. The dark prevented him from identifying where he was exactly, he tried to look all around him but, still foggy from sleep, his brain was not making sense of anything. For a moment he thought that maybe he was still asleep, that this was some sort of drink induced nightmare…but he could feel the hard cold floor beneath him, and the ropes, excruciatingly tight round his wrists…they were real enough. He looked round again searching for something that he might recognise, something that might help him to remember how he had got here. As his eyes grew more accustomed to the dark he began to make out huge shadowy shapes that could be agricultural machinery of some type, other than that the building appeared to be empty. There was a definite animal smell though, a large barn possibly…fuck it, this made no sense, what the hell was he doing, naked, tied up, in an empty barn in the midd
le of nowhere…and how the fuck had he got here?

  He shouted for help, his voice came out as a sort of crackly squeak at first his mouth was so dry, he licked his lips and tried again…louder and louder as his panic began to take hold. His cries echoed round the vast building bouncing back at him, he could hear the fear and desperation in his own voice. A slow hand clap started from the other end of the barn, out of his line of vision, he frantically tried to swivel round and see where it was coming from, letting out a scream of pain as the muscles in his arms were stretched to ripping point by his twisting, and the clapping was replaced by a cruel laugh. He spotted her then…sitting in the far corner silently watching him as he struggled and squirmed. She looked vaguely familiar, as if he should know her.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he shouted at her, ‘why have you brought me here? What have you done to me? I don’t know what game you are playing, but this has gone too far! Untie me at once you sick fuck!’

  His anger only seemed to amuse her; she walked towards him chuckling to herself.

  ‘Oh at last he’s awake,’ she said almost pleasantly, conversationally, ‘I was beginning to think I would have to get started without you, and that’s never as much fun is it?’ She had come right up to him while she had been talking, so that he had been able to get a good look at her…it was her, he remembered now, what was her name... the girl from the restaurant? Before he had time to realise what she was doing, she had grabbed his head and pulled it up towards her stuffing an old rag so far into his mouth that he nearly gagged on it.

  He roared his fury and frustration…despite his memory returning to him none of this made any sense. What the fuck was going on, why had she done this? They had been having a really nice time as far as he could remember. A lovely restaurant, good food and good company, Richard had liked her more and more each time they’d met. She was really gorgeous with her long red hair and voluptuous curves and he had started to think that she might have been ‘the one’. The last thing he remembered before this, was her pouring him another glass of the delicious red wine that they had been enjoying with their meal…how in hell’s name had he got here? This had to be a mistake, he tried again to speak to her, tell her this had to be some sort of misunderstanding…why the fuck was she doing this to him?

  He growled something at her; spewing out as much of his fury and frustration that he could through the gag in his mouth. She completely ignored him and went over to a large holdall, from which she produced some sort of clothing, an all in one thing, like a pair of mechanic’s overalls, she took off her high heeled shoes and started to drag the overalls on, over the smart black skirt and pretty red blouse that he had so admired earlier, buttoning them right up to her neck. Then she pulled her long red hair up into a scrunchy and covered it with a paper cap, the type that you would find in a food factory.

  Richard started struggling and squirming as he watched her, terror and panic had completely taken over. He was bathed in sweat despite the cold and he had lost control of his bladder, his breath was coming out in short gasps as he flailed about desperately trying to free himself.

  She went about her business methodically, never even glancing in his direction until she had everything she needed for her task, her very calmness was terrifying.

  She wandered over and stood in front of him, looking him up and down, her eyes travelled over his well formed shoulders and muscular arms, then down over the slight paunch of his stomach lingering on his flaccid penis which was completely exposed to her gaze.

  She was holding a leather strap studded with metal spikes. She flicked it through the air in front of him smiling to herself as it made a satisfying crack! Richard started shaking his head in terror, his eyes desperately pleading with her. He screamed in pain as the strap first connected with his flesh the barbed end tearing at his skin and leaving a bloody trail behind it. The pain intensified with every stroke, and he was writhing and screaming as she whipped him over and over, glorying in his torn flesh and the spray of blood that was covering her face and hands. She started at the tops of his legs and then his stomach, over and over she hit him until the leather was slick with his blood and he was barely conscious.

  She stopped then, apparently needing to catch her breath. Richard was having difficulty seeing, for the blood that kept dripping into his eyes, but he watched her as best he could never daring to take his eyes off her.

  ‘Please,’ he tried again…‘please no more,’ she ignored him, he began to sob as he watched her.

  She discarded the strap and rummaged around in her bag again, this time pulling out a wickedly sharp looking knife which she brought close to his face, close to his eyes, just running the tip of it down the side of his cheek, an insane look on her face as she showed him what she was about to do. She was thriving on the terror she could see in his eyes, ignoring the groaning animal sounds and the stench as he lost control of his bowels…with a laugh of satisfaction she went to work.

  Slashing and slicing, rejoicing in the blood that hit her face and body…thrilling in the muffled screams of terror and agony and laughing at his muffled pleas for mercy. At last, panting, as if she had just run a marathon she paused to examine her work, almost critically looking over the bloody mess that used to be a man as if she might have missed something.

  ‘Oh god…end it now…please god no more,’ Richard prayed as she turned again to her bag of tricks, this time producing a gun.

  ‘Please…please,’ he begged through his gag.

  ‘That’s right…you beg…you want me to end it don’t you…don’t you daddy…DADDY DADDY,’ she screamed her voice raising to the pitch of the truly insane. ‘You will be begging me to end it for you in a minute, but I’m not going to pull this trigger until you beg me properly,’ she put the gun down and once again picked up the knife smiling sadistically as she grabbed hold of his penis and balls holding them painfully tightly, he groaned in agony shaking his head back and forth his eyes pleading with her not to do this…please not this…‘OH GOD NO…’ then his screams rose higher and higher to an almost inhuman sound, as she gleefully emasculated him.

  He begged her then, over and over to use the gun.

  He was all but dead when he felt the cold steel of the muzzle between his eyes…death, when it came was a wonderful relief.

  CHAPTER 3 – CAULDRON MEETING

  Four weeks later

  Helen, as usual, was the first to arrive; and as usual, she found a quiet table and began to steal chairs from other tables so that they all had seats. She didn’t mind being the first, it gave her a few moments of much needed peace which was a rare commodity these days.

  What with the two toddlers, Abby and Benjamin, and Sophie, Maya’s elder daughter, a stroppy teenager, and Lena, Maya’s rather dotty mother all under one roof, there were very few moments of peace at home. Not that Helen minded at all, in fact she wouldn’t have it any other way. She loved her chaotic life and revelled in the clutter and disarray that a big family created. Every day with them was a blessing that she’d never thought she would have, and she thanked god for them.

  The only blot on the horizon at the moment was her ex-husband Wills and his rather loud, opinionated wife Sarah. Wills had somehow found out about Abby. Three years ago, and nine months after Helen had kicked Wills out, Helen had given birth to a baby girl. She had kept her pregnancy a secret even from the so called witches, her dear friends Maggie, Carla and Tracy and everyone had been gobsmacked when baby Abby had been born. She had hoped that Wills would never find out, but of course that was too much to hope for and one day when Abby was about six months old, Wills had turned up on her doorstep demanding his rights as her father.

  Part of Helen was very pleased that he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life, but the other part wanted to keep her little girl all to herself without Wills interference. Common sense (in the form of Maya, Helen’s partner) prevailed though, and Helen came to an agreement with Will that he could have Abby every other weekend.
All of which was fine until his obnoxious cow of a wife started making snide comments about Helen’s rather unconventional life style.

  ‘Bloody hell Helen what would we do without you?’ said Tracy interrupting Helen’s thoughts as she bustled through the busy bar to the table.

  ‘You always manage to find us a quiet spot, even when it’s heaving in here…hello darling you’re looking gorgeous as usual,’ she broke off to give Helen a hug.

  ‘Maggie’s just having a word with Duncan,’ she went on, ‘and she’s getting you a white wine you lucky cow, what I wouldn’t give for a stiff drink.’ Tracy had given birth to her second child Tilly a couple of months ago and was still breast feeding, as was evident by the humongous boobs that were now resting on the table in front of her.

  Helen couldn’t help noticing, ‘Bloody hell Trace I think your boobs are even bigger this time, how the hell do you find bras to fit?’ she asked, blatantly staring at the wondrous orbs.

  ‘Oh god don’t get me started,’ said Tracy raising her eyebrows. ‘I tried to get some at that new shop in the village…um you know the one ‘Fennela’s Corsetry’, Fennela’s fucking bondage shop more like, you should see some of the stuff in there, they are like instruments of torture, and bloody ‘Fennela’ would have had an amazing career working with the Gestapo. “Perhaps if madam could stand up a bit straighter there might not be quite as much pinchage” or “If madam could just hold her breath for a minute while I try and do this one up” or “I think that madam may be more successful ordering one from one of the websites that deal with XXL sizes, we tend to cater for women of a more normal size”, fucking patronising cow,’ she finished fiercely making Helen laugh.

  ‘Oh I’m sorry honey it must be a nightmare, well at least it won’t be forever, they returned to normal after you stopped feeding Zack didn’t they?’ she said sympathetically.

  ‘Yes eventually,’ said Tracy with a grimace. ‘Although to be fair they are always big, if it wasn’t for the fact that Simon is seriously addicted to them I would definitely consider a boob reduction, not that we could afford one anyway at the moment, every penny is going into the house fund…’