~Subject: Repost:Tales of the Witchfinder Part 3B
~From: an481236@anon.penet.fi (Saint Elmo)
~Date: Tue, 23 Jan 1996 04:47:52 UTC
~Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
A History of Witchcraft
In
Marsden, England, 1593-5
Prologue, and WARNING This material contains descriptions of bondage,
torture, murder, suicide, false imprisonment, religious desecration,
incest, witchcraft,
cannibalism, and a couple of really, really offensive sexual scenes,
including rape,
gang rape, and flaying.
The price of freedom
It was with difficulty that the Whipmaster managed at last to lash
Leslie's wrists tightly to two
overhead chains, so she stood naked in the center of the chamber, arms
apart, her beautiful face tilted to
the ceiling of the chamber, tears slipping from her blue eyes down her
cheeks, as he slowly, slowly, raised
her hips, noting her bush of red pubic hair, and grinned evilly.
He reached down between the tense thighs, and parted her wet fat
vaginal lips with his fingers, as
she danced away, trying to avoid his probing fingers, then he pressed
her shapely legs so far apart she had
no purchase, and swung by her wrists, as he easily forced his oiled
cock past her tight cunt lips, into the
warm vaginal tunnel, pressing deeply into her struggling little body.
She moaned in terror and pain as she realized he meant to rape her as
she hung helplessly by her
wrists in mid air.
If the pain in her arms had not been so bad, she might even have
enjoyed the act, but he was
determined that she would have no pleasure from this experience, if he
could help it.
He worked his cock into her deeply, as she continued begging and
kicking her long slim legs
helplessly, tossing her head from side to side in pain, her long blond
hair flying wildly about her face and
upper body. He thrust, twisting his iron hard cock painfully inside
the tender vagina, then slowly drew out
his long cock and walked behind her.
Leslie was terrified, as he lifted her legs up from behind, and then ,
her body bent up at the waist,
her buttocks spread wide, he cruelly drove his rigid cock into the
center of the brown spot that marked her
anus, bringing forth screams of agony louder and more pitiful than
before.
Leslie bit her lips silently , as the intense pain from the unexpected
attack flooded her straining
body
The Whipmaster held the taut naked body and enjoyed the feel of her
tensed muscles, as she
jerked in pain, and heard her moan in agony as her helpless body
writhed to escape his merciless cock. He
drove deeper and deeper into her little body with each plunging
thrust.
Her breath now came in short gasps as her helpless body writhed in a
fruitless effort to escape his
merciless cock.
He drove his iron hard cock still deeper into her small figure until
flesh tore deep inside her, and
hot blood begin to seep down her thighs
Now he was fully embedded inside her.
Leslie fell silent as she felt the rhythm increase as his passion
mounted and he approached
climax, driving ever harder and harder into her anus as blood from her
torn skin lubricated his efforts.
Her flesh rippled under the shock of his wide hips banging into her
buttocks and her eyes were
wide with agony until finally, with a great grunting cry, he drove
deep, and reaching around her slim
waist he clutched her close, and with his other hand grasped a
dangling breast and clenched the soft flesh
until she screamed again and again in piercing shrieks of pain as he
orgasmed, his exploding cock
spurting white gobs of come deep inside her soft struggling body.
The Whipmaster was a true sadist. He received maximum pleasure from
his sexual partners
when they were in direst agony.
In the past he had often taken down one of his victims, who, barely
conscious from his whips,
and covered with blood would suffer still more as he raped them on
the rack next to his whipping post.
He would tie them face up on the slanted pole rack, wrists and ankles
bound, blood dripping from their
flesh, and work his cock into them as they screamed in agony.
Leslie could expect no mercy from this member of the witch-hunters
team.
He continued squeezed and kneading her breasts painfully as, balls
bursting with sperm, he
spurted hot semen deep inside the woman, groaning and gasping, as he
convulsed with forceful thrusts
into her resisting body.
Finally, out of breath, his sturdy cock growing limp, he drew out his
bloody organ and wiped it
clean on the rags that had been her dress.
He quickly regained his breath, and with it, a return to sanity. He
pulled up his trousers and
gazed down at the wide terrorized eyes in the face of the helpless
woman he had just violated so cruelly.
A trickle of scarlet blood mixed with his semen , was now leaking from
her tightening anus. He
looked at the straining figure and noted the thin ruby stripe slowly
tracing a path down the inside of her
thigh.
"She hasn't suffered enough," he thought, "She isn't humbled even
yet".
He leaned over her and reaching down between her legs, grasped her
thin pubic hair roughly. He
slowly increased the strength of his grip on her crotch and began
cruelly twisting the tender flesh
painfully. Hair began to pull free in his grip, and she moaned in
pain.
"Well mistress Leslie, Haven't we come to a pretty pass?"
Leslie nodded weakly, wondering what new humiliation she was to
undergo at the hands of this
beast.
"Please master," She begged, " let me go. Let me be with my daughters.
What have you done
with them?"
"Silence bitch. You must answer to the charges of practicing
witchcraft, along with those two
young cunts that you and the devil have produced."
Still dazed from the brutal rape, and her body filled with pain, she
bowed her head and nodded
her assent.
"I will confess, but my daughters are innocent"
She now fully realized that he could do anything he wished with her.
She was naked, and being
held deep under the castle, while accused of witchcraft, her daughters
held as witches as well. Tears began
to leak from her great blue eyes.
He gazed down at the helpless woman. He well realized that she was a
true beauty. Her full
breasts were now showing splotchy blue bruises from his blows and
squeezing but still stood proudly out
from her chest.
" She would have been a beauty at court", he thought, "But now she is
mine to do with as I
wish."
Bound as she was her long blond hair fell to her waist behind her, and
partially covered her in
front, however pert nipples poked through the golden tresses, and he
tweaked them as she tried to twist
away. He brushed her golden hair to the rear, so she was fully
exposed. He stared.
Struck with an idea, and realizing that an opportunity like this was
unlikely to come again soon,
he opened the closet and drew out a heavy polished steel pick.
The Pick
The metal gleamed dully in the light from the lamps, and Leslie, even
though dazed with pain
still was puzzled and somehow afraid of his actions as he dragged a
heavy table to a position in front of
her.
A heavy vise was bolted to the table, and she watched in growing
puzzlement and terror as he
laid several coils of rope and the heavy pick on it.
He unshackled her aching wrists from the chains, and re-tied them
behind her back, looping the
thin strong ropes around her wrists three times, then with two
cinching loops between them, he brought
the free end up to her elbows, and bound them tightly and painfully
together as well, forcing pitiful moans
of pain from her clenched lips again as he drew the beautiful little
body into a forced posture, her
shoulders pulled far back, her breasts thrust fully outward, nipples
pointed to the ceiling.
When he was sure that he had her shoulders as far back as possible, he
went again to the closet
and returned with a roll of thin, strong cord.
He caressed the flat, smooth stomach, now heaving with her gasping,
deep, half sobbing,
breathing, and ran his hands over the smooth skin of her body, gazing
down with anticipation at the
woman he made so helpless as she stood fearfully awaiting his next
pleasure.
He backed her against the table, and held her there with his body
pressed tightly against hers, as
he looped a slip knot over her full breast, capturing the soft lovely
mass of flesh inside the loop, and then
slowly pulled it tight, until it nearly buried itself in the yielding
flesh, ignoring her cries of pain.
Then he wound the thin cord tightly twice more around the bulging
mass, and finished with a
clove hitch, pulling her breast into a melon sized globe, as she
groaned with the new source of pain.
He bound up her other breast in the same manner, using the other end
of the thin cord, leaving
her staggering with pain and begging for mercy.
He pulled her upright with the cord connecting between her twin globes
of firm soft flesh, now
gathered into swelling sources of pain on her small body..
He snapped a hook onto the cord between her breasts, and using a
pulley in the ceiling pulled on
the thin rope, raising her to her tiptoes .
Leslie was terrified now, and was babbling pleas and prayers, begging
for mercy as he reached for the
pick that he had laid aside
"Here we go mistress Leslie," he snarled, " You just stand pretty,
just as you are, and this steel
prick will just get wet and warm. But if you try to sit on it, It will
slide up your hot pussy..and it will poke
you all the way into hell if you slip"
.
He pressed the sharp point of the pick upward against her vagina,
until the tip slipped out of
sight into her writhing body.
Carefully he inserted the cold steel into her vagina, and then slowly
worked it deeper into her
twisting hips, until he met solid resistance and Leslie began a low
soft moaning of pain as he pushed it an
inch deeper.
Leslie screamed and tried to twist away. The pain from each movement
was agony to her tender
breasts. In an effort to relieve the strain, she rose to her tip toes
and lifted her knee, posing on one slim
leg. He quickly used her posture to slip the icy cold deadly sharp
point of the pick further upward into her,
forcing it still deeper into her body.
Finally his thrust of the steel met solid resistance, and he stopped.
Leslie twitched and writhed, but her movements were now small, for
every movement seemed to
make her pain increase.
The agony grew in her belly and breasts, then gradually seemed to
spread through her slim lithe
body. It suddenly occurred to her that he meant to kill her this way,
slowly, and with as much agony as
she could endure.
He had managed to work the steel pick point a full ten inches through
the vaginal canal without
piercing her flesh, sliding it smoothly inside the slippery tunnel,
and now the sharp steel tip was just
penetrating the tiny opening of her womb. Death lay only an inch
deeper, and she could feel the pressure
grow with passing moment.
Torture
The torture was yet to come.
He now clamped the pick handle with the vise, so that she stood
impaled upon it, her legs
straining, and able to relieve the stress only slightly by rising on
tiptoe.
He stepped back and contemplated the helpless woman.
He smiled, and leaned forward to pull the overhead ropes still
tighter, and pressed his lips to hers
as he did so, feeling the muscles tense and writhe under him as he
pressed downward on her lips.
Now she stood poised, half suspended by her soft firm breasts, her
legs braced against the floor,
and trembling with strain.
A soft moan of hopelessness escaped from her lips as he then bent to
the floor and gripping her
calf, Tied her legs together tightly, above the knees, and around her
ankles.
The increasing the strain on her already stretching and bulging
breasts was to much to bear, and
her body sank still deeper onto the deadly steel point. Quickly she
recovered, and strained upward with
her legs once more, to ease the pain.
And so Leslie stood poised, naked, and impaled on the pick in front
of the table, with her little
body bent slightly backward, hair hanging nearly to the floor, her
slim legs tied tightly together, knees
stiff, and legs shaking from strain.
Unable to move, lest the sharp point of the pick invade her fatally,
tears rolled down her cheeks
as she turned her beautiful heart shaped face to the Whipmaster in
despair.
God, she looked beautiful enough to fuck again, he thought. She was
not just beautiful, he
decided, she was a sexual magnet. Too beautiful to kill this way, he
decided, and released his massive
cock from his trousers again, and approached the little woman from the
rear.
"Please, please don't do this to me. I will be your slave."
He smiled. He had only done this once before, and the Witchfinder had
stopped him before he
had gotten the woman fully arraigned, but this bitch was beautiful,
completely in his power, and no one
was going to stop him now!..
Leslie knew that if she allowed herself to sink downward, the pick
would pierce deeply into her
body, perhaps even up into her belly, stabbing into her intestines,
and wounding her with agonizing
slowness, so when she felt the man spreading her buttocks wide
apart, and again inserting the tip of his
slippery cock, between the tensed cheeks of her buttocks, for a second
time, she felt despair overwhelm
her.
Leslie gave a sharp gasp then made mewling sounds of agony as she felt
the pressure grow on her
tortured breasts, and then felt the fire of the metal as it slipped
still deeper inside her body. It was now
pressing deep into delicate, sensitive flesh. She felt his hands on
her hips and the invading mass of his
cock as it surged into her tortured body once again.
"All you have to do is keep your pussy up for a few hours while we
question your daughters, and I
will put you all into one cell," the Whipmaster lied, his breath
ragged and heavy as his passion raged
higher and higher.
"Mercy, master. Please let us live, and I will do anything you wish.
Anything. I will be your
slave, your servants, anything"
He came then, her submissiveness, and begging words sending him
violently into orgasm. His
sperm spurted into her, and with involuntary violent jerks his hips
drove his cock deep into the helpless
woman, lifting her upward with each strong stroke, then dropping her
back until he was drained.
He slowly drew away, as a dribble of white stringy sperm drooled from
her slowly tightening
sphincter, and ran down the back of her legs.
"You cunt," he growled," I have far better choices than you, but if
you show me that you can
endure pain, I will let you live."
"Oh yes, master, I will endure anything," she gasped hoarsely.
The Whipmaster grasped her long blond hair and tipping her head still
further back, kissed the
straining little woman full upon her lips, his other hand rubbing the
steel shaft up to where it met the soft
flesh of her parted vaginal lips. He stroked the taut flesh of her
bound breasts for a few moments, then
gagged her, knowing that her prolonged screaming when the pick began
to probe deeper and deeper
might attract someone who might help her.
Smiling evilly, he left the room.
Leslie recovered her senses and found herself alone.
Turning her head she stared at the now closed door and then tried to
relax. The prod of the pick
moving upward deep inside her belly stopped her, as did the increased
pull on the delicate flesh of her
bulging breasts.
Leslie stood motionless, breathing shallow breaths, to avoid movement
as much as possible. Her
breasts were stinging, and slowly bloody semicircles began to form on
the underside of each tortured
breast. A thin trickle of blood began to leak downward from each
breast where the cords were cutting into
the delicate flesh, forming thin tracings over the taut skin.
It was hours before she finally gave in to the roaring in her ears,
and fainted, slumping back, as
her now limp relaxed body socketed itself firmly on the heavy pick.
The tip slid deep and buried itself full
length into her belly. A slow trickle of scarlet traced itself down
the length of the steel, and dripped to the
floor, forming a widening pool of sticky blood under her hips.
The Ransom of Leslie
It was late. The innkeeper was looking at his ancient clock, as Earl
and the Whipmaster sat
talking quietly in the corner of the dimly lit room.
Everyone else had gone home, and Earl was clutching his glass with
increasing desperation.
"You should not have taken the mother and the other daughter. Only
that blond bitch. She is the
one you want, and who deserves to burn"
Whipmaster shrugged. "Some innocent women get swept up in these witch
hunts, every time.
God sorts them out up in heaven, anyway. What's so important about
this one?"
"I will pay you for her release, Earl stated quietly, "I need that
woman to marry, and soon. I need
the young one, too"
Whipmaster lifted his glass. "That might cost some more gold than the
ten pieces that you paid
me for the privilege of watching, the little cunt's torture."
Earl took a deep breath," Twenty pieces more for the mother's release
unharmed"
Whipmaster looked thoughtfully at Earl. He knew he had lied about the
witch, that he was at the
bottom of the whole ugly series of kidnappings, tortures, and murders
that were to be the result of the
witch hunt, but he waited patiently, as Earl sweated.
"All right, thirty gold pieces, and ten more for the girl, but I must
have her free quickly, out of
the castle and away unharmed"
Whipmaster stood. "Come with me to the castle. She has been only
slightly mistreated, " he lied,
thinking of the helplessly tied woman he had left positioned on the
pick.
"But she must be treated so that she cannot tell of what she has seen
or knows. Her tongue must
be burnt," then he held out his hand," The gold first"
Earl hesitated. "If she cannot talk, then how can she marry?," he
asked.
"She will be able to nod, and croak a little, but not talk"
"And the youngest girl?"
"We will see," I know where she is, and I can get her in a day or two,
if the price is paid. Be sure
my friend, she will no longer be a virgin when you next see her."
Earl reached inside his cloak, and placed the small bag of coins into
the huge hand, and rising,
the two of them trudged to the castle through the gloom, now lit only
by the half moon that shone down
from on high.
When the door to the dungeon swung open, the Whipmaster was surprised
to see Leslie hanging
backward, her small child like body still held somewhat upright,
supported only by her swollen tightly
bound breasts, which now were covered with blood from her torn flesh.
Earl had no idea what was occurring, but the Whipmaster leaped forward
and grabbing Leslie
around her waist, held her up as high as her bound legs would permit,
and wheezed to Earl, "Help me get
her down, or she's dead meat in minutes."
Quickly the two men lifted the lax body of the beautiful little woman
off the pick, and detached
the ropes from her captured breasts. Earl lifted the small limp body
up, and laid her face up on the heavy
table.
Leslie groaned, and turned to lay on her side, staring dully at Earl,
who knelt close and held her
shoulders as the Whipmaster heated a bar of iron to a white heat.
"Leslie!" he shook the dazed woman by the shoulder, "Listen to me!
Your life depends on what
you do in the next few moments!"
Leslie stared at him for a moment, then spoke, "Earl !, what are you
doing here?" she murmured,
dazedly. "I'm dying Earl. He has killed me."
Earl bent close to her ear, "The Whipmaster wants to burn your tongue.
I have a bit of pig tongue
in my hand. Take it into your mouth, and when he orders you to put out
your tongue, thrust it out and grip
it with your teeth. When he burns it, scream and fall to the floor
with your hands covering your face, them
chew and swallow the meat"
Leslie nodded, understanding dawning that she might survive after all.
Earl slipped a pink bit of meat between her lips. Leslie was fully
aware now, but lay silently in
Earls grasp. He felt the pressure of her naked bloody breasts on his
arms, and thought how nice she was
going to be in his bed, swollen tits or not.
"Sit the bitch up," the Whipmaster growled. "She's been a lot of
trouble, and I don't want her
blabbing what she has seen here, or heard. To say nothing of what I
did to her, he chuckled to himself.
Earl raised the suffering little woman to a sitting position, and the
Whipmaster pried open her
mouth. Earl held the mass of tangled blond hair away from her face, as
Leslie thrust an inch of pink pig
tongue from between her lips.
Without hesitation the Whipmaster quickly pierced the pink flesh with
the sparkling iron.
Leslie struggled, her hands flew to her mouth, and as the two men
stepped away, she rolled on
the heavy table, gagging and moaning as she clasped her hands to her
reddened lips.
She lay still, moaning in real pain from her belly, but with her
tongue still intact, and behind her
hands which she was using to cover her face, she quickly chewed and
swallowed the now cooked pig
tongue.
She lay motionless, eyes closed, pretending unconsiousness. The
whipmaster rolled her to her
back, and pried her knees apart, then he raised his short truncheon
high over his head,
and delivered a hard, single blow, using all of his strength, squarely
between her parted thighs, landing
directly upon the fatty mound of her pubis.
Leslie gave a pig like grunt as the blow landed, and doubled up,
involuntarily drawing herself up
into a ball.
The Whipmaster dropped the truncheon, and picked up a short heavy bull
whip, and
demonstrated his skill. Blow after blow fell on Leslie's naked body as
he convulsed the helpless woman,
striking cleverly at the tender insides of her thighs, driving her
legs apart, and then landing heavy blows
directly upon the fat lips of her bleeding slit with the bull whip.
Earl grasped his arm. "You will kill her this way. Leave off.!" He
paused, and saw that Leslie
had finally, mercifully, fainted.
The Whipmaster raised the unconscious woman to a sitting position, and
stooped low over her.
He cupped her little heart shaped face, sliding his hands deep into
the mass of golden hair, then
slid his long rigid cock into her lax mouth, thrusting deeply into her
throat.
He grinned evilly as the woman's large blue eyes half opened and she
struggled in the desperate
fight for air.
Earl was frantic. Was this maniac going to kill her after all?
The Whipmaster came at last into her throat, overflowing her warm
mouth with thick creamy
come that dropped in strings to her crotch where it mingled with the
coagulating blood leaking from her
slit.
Rising, he let her limp body fall onto her back, unconscious again.
Earl wrapped Leslie's slim form with a blanket he had brought, then
carried the little woman to
the small sally door of the castle.
"How much for the two daughters? " He asked quietly.
Sensing gold, the Whipmaster replied, "Fifty pieces for the young one,
but five hundred for the
one called June. She is the witch, and confessed as such."
Leslie gave a small cry of despair.
"I will pay, but Marie and June must be delivered up within the week,
before they are murdered
by the Witchfinder," Earl bargained.
"For two hundred more, I will get them to you by Friday, but I cannot
stop or interfere with the
Witchfinder's tests, nor Milo's pleasures, for he is the Jailer.
"Done"
With a wave to the Whipmaster, the two figures disappeared into the
darkness, slowly making
their way to Earl's farm house, Earl carrying the blanket wrapped
little form of Leslie down the rocky
lane.
Leslie was still only half consious from her trial at the hands of the
Whipmaster, and as he
walked, carrying the slim little figure of the battered woman, she
talked disjointedly to Earl, who listened
with growing horror, yet his cock was growing rigid with a peculiar
excitement as he realized that
Matthew Hopkins was a fraud, and probably a murderer as well. But most
exciting was the fact of his
torture of women.!