~Subject: Repost: Tales of the Witchfinder Part 5C ~From: an481236@anon.penet.fi (Saint Elmo) ~Date: Wed, 24 Jan 1996 13:12:11 UTC ~Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories The chamber of Pain The torturer eyed the girl that the Ropemaster was dragging behind him, and as they stopped in the center of the room, and the Ropemaster lifted the struggling form of Marie onto the dais, he leaned forward to stare directly into the eyes of the beautiful young woman who stood panting before him, her breath moving in and out in quick gasps, lifting her breasts temptingly. He moved closer, so that her full breasts were touching him. A narrow hipped young woman, a girl yet, with thick long blond hair flowing generously over her upper body, almost covering her back to her waist, Marie was a sexually exciting young woman, even in her present distress. The Torturer had no special feelings for his victims, he left that for the Ropemaster and the Witchfinder. This particular girl, however, he planned to fuck before he killed her. The Whipmaster studied the problem. He had promised Earl that he would see this one freed. She might not be in very good health when he did, he thought. He knew the Witchfinder and Ropemaster were always eager to have the “Witches” after the punishment, and he knew why. When the torturer was through with them, they were always absolute slaves to any command they gave them. The torturer smiled. This one looked very stubborn. He glanced down again at the defiant Marie, and asked the Ropemaster, “How many?”. “ Until she confesses twelve names,” the reply came. The girl jerked in his grip, whimpered and tears began to brim her blue eyes. She stared helplessly into his face, hoping to find a trace of mercy there. She did not. The torturer nodded, and waited as the Ropemaster raised the front of her cloth, pulled it over her head and lifted it away. Shamed. Marie crossed her hands in front of her petite tawny-sheened body but in moments they had gripped her wrists and she was fully exposed to their avid gazes. The two men tied her wrists behind her waist, and laid her face up onto the rack. Holding the slender ankles were heavy ropes which bit into her flesh and which ran over a drum, and were drawn tight with a wheel. Satisfied with the binding, the torturer closed a wooden piece over her neck, so that she could not rise up, or see her body. Marie now lay helpless, her body tensed, her long slim legs held widespread, naked and defenseless. Her slender body strained and tensed as the Torturer ran his hands over the lissome hips, the slim waist, and then reaching to cup her firm youthful breasts, he noticed that they were standing proudly up, hard swollen from the Witchfinder’s needle, even though she way prone on the rack. He reached out and palmed each breast thoughtfully for a few moments, his fingers digging deep, to get an idea of the sensitivity and firmness, ignoring her cries of pain and pleadings for mercy.” All women wanted to protect those titties, “ He thought. “Does she get any special treatment?”, he asked the Whipmaster, his trousers now bulging, indicating he was already in rut. The Whipmaster had his own plans, and would have his orgasm at her expense later. “No. Let her scream at what is happening, so that she might confess to end it. The master wants confessions, not corpses, so use care.” The Whipmaster moved closer to the girl and spoke softly into her ear,” This will be a good lesson for you, my little bitch. After the torturer is through with you, we will have to decide if you are to burn or not. You can save yourself now, by showing that you are not contaminated with the devil’s stubbornness. “First, you must confess. You must confess to having sex with Satan, and dancing with your coven at midnight. “Oh Please , Master, don’t let them hurt me. I will confess. I will do anything, but please let me go” “You must deny this lie that you were a virgin when you first came to the castle, and that you were raped.” “It is the truth, “ Marie cried hopelessly, “I had no man inside my body until the jailer” “I will ask you for this confession first, then you will speak the names of your coven. Twelve witches and yourself..” “No ! “, she cried, suddenly defiant, “ I am not a witch. I have never done those things, and I know no witches.. ”Her eyes widened as the Torturer once more slowly stroked her tightly drawn body with his hand, finally grasping her unprotected crotch and grinning. Her mind paralyzed with terror, her glance darting about the room in desperation, she saw nothing to save her. The Ropemaster picked up a pen and paper, and nodded to the Torturer. “We are ready.” Three young women whose exceptional beauty had attracted the Witchfinder were now brought into the torture chamber and arraigned against the stone wall. Their mouths were covered with gags, their wrists tied firmly to heavy iron loops in the wall, so that they stood with outstretched arms, robed only in their white cloths, and wide eyed with fear. They were to be witness to Marie’s ordeal. Marie could not know that these were women who were being held captive by the Witchfinder without being tested, nor even being accused. They were arrested only because they were the prettiest of the village women, and would be awarded to the Witchfinder’s men as they desired them, or sold into slavery in another town or parish. Indeed, he was counting on Marie to name them in her forced confession. The women had been told that if they did this thing, they would be released without further trial. That this was a true test of their Christian loyalty A lie, for the Witchfinder had selected them carefully based only on their beauty, and he had no intention of allowing them to leave the castle alive, lest they tell of what they had seen, and been made to do.. “When you want to begin naming names,” The Torturer said, “just shout them out, and I will pause. If you repeat a name, or stop talking, the strokes will resume.” “Master, I beg you. I know not Satan, nor his works. Please let my sister and I go home now?” She saw him smile evilly, as he continued to stroke her trembling body with his rough hand. Each judge now positioned himself so that he could see the full length of Marie’s nude body as she lay bound and helpless on the rack, the tension mounting as the small group awaited the Torturers beginning. The girls stared as if hypnotized by the white naked body lying so helpless and vulnerable. Each girl visualized herself as being in that agonizing strained position, which was precisely what the Witchfinder had intended. Marie was making mewling sounds of terror, with sobs and pleas for mercy mixed with declarations of her innocence, as the Torturer bent over her taut little belly. The Torturer sighed, noted that the Whipmaster, Ropemaster and Witchfinder were already seated in the shadows, and awaiting the entertainment. He stared long at the curvaceous beauty before him. Ah, this one was delicious. He reached for the heavy whip, and moved to her head, slyly opening his trousers enough to let his heavy prick fall onto her face, and asked “Do you confess, and repent of your witchcraft?. If you do, nod your head three times.” Suddenly, with the speed of a striking snake he smashed the whip into the soft, unprotected crotch of the bound girl, and leaned over her face, muffling her scream of agony with his genitals. His cock began to stiffen. Too deep in pain to fully comprehend what he had just said, Marie lay babbling pleas for mercy, to stop, writhing her slim body pitifully as the agony of the whip ground into her. Perspiring, scalding hot waves of agony seared her naked vulnerable flesh, and coursed through her writhing torso. Never had she experienced such agony. Marie could not long endure so cruel a lash, and as the Torturer stepped away, to resume his punishment, she suddenly realized what he had said. “Oh, yes, Yes, anything, ANYTHING, PLEASE STOP”, she screamed, her voice cracking with agony, “I confess, I CONFESS !”. He pretended not to hear her, and before anyone could intercede, he moved to the foot of the rack, and facing the helpless girls opened legs, laid two stripes on the front of each slim white thigh, the tip of the whip slicing inside her thigh, onto the delicate white skin near her crotch, putting two deep red marks high up on each thigh. Then, as the Witchfinder rose to approach her, he reversed the whip, and using the heavy handle as a club, made a sudden down swing of the leather covered club, striking her hard between her thighs, this time directly on the fatty mound of her pubis, rising like a lovely mound over the soft cleft between her legs. The effect was electrifying. She went rigid in sheer agony, then began convulsing within her bonds, until after a few moments, blood began seeping down her ankles from where the ropes now dug deep, and a trickle of blood leaked over the racks edge and dripped onto the floor from the torn flesh of her wrists, where she mindlessly strained to break her bonds. Now growing faint, her screams were turning to mewling, gasping sounds of agony. He waited. This was normal. The watchers all enjoyed the surprise of the victim, and her invariable reaction, and the girls bound against the wall, grew rigid with terror. When Marie recovered slightly from the agony boiling up from her outraged crotch, and once more lay trembling and moaning, he asked her the same question, and once more she begged him most piteously for mercy, and again confessed to being a witch. Marie confesses The Witchfinder approached the helpless nude woman with a list in his hand, and spoke. “Is the Duchess one of your group?” Marie nodded yes. The torturer fitted his finger into her vagina and lifted it slightly. “No, NO, PLEASE, NO MORE.!!” “Speak up bitch, the judges must hear it from your own lips.” “Yes, She is a witch”, Marie choked out, “Please stop, please..” “Is your sister June a witch?” Marie hesitated, then as the Torturer thrust his finger deeper, and reaching, gripped her breast gently, she cried “ Yes” Your mother, Leslie? A Pause, then; “Yes” “Your Aunt Susan?” “ Yes.” “ Your schoolmates, Beth, Julie, Leslie, Margaret, Willa, Ida, and Lois?” “Yes, Yes, all of them are witches”, Marie sobbed, in such agony that she would have confessed to anything to have the pain end.. She lay, her legs pulled straight, her head flung back in agony, rolling from side to side as the Torturer pressed his hand against her belly, moved it to her breast, then again thrust his finger deeper into her body. Marie screamed in agony as the torturer gripped her hard, then at the nod of the Witchfinder, released her and stood back, closing the front of his trousers. “That makes twelve, master,” the Ropemaster reported. Satisfied, the Witchfinder turned away. She had named the group of women he had desired. They were all young beauties he had searched out and learned their names, who lived in the city. He would have them all before he sent them to the fire. Now for the awaited pleasures this particular little bitch would provide them. Marie was young and strong. She recovered her senses as they finished unfastening her legs and wrists, and sat up on the blood covered edge of the rack that she had been fastened to, shaking with pain, her hands clutching her wounded crotch, and breathing shallowly as the effects of her torture began to dull. The Ropemaster covered her with a warm cloak, and led her to the “confession room” where he and the Witchfinder would now continue the “confession” for a time, now that there was no resistance left in her. “All right Marie, do you see my prick?” the Witchfinder asked the dazed little woman, “Take it in your mouth and suck it, and then ask me to fuck you here and now, do you hear?. Or back you’ll go for another dozen until you either learn, or die. And next time, I’ll have the Whipmaster strike you directly on that nice pink little slit of a cunt every stroke.” This diabolical threat overcame Marie’s revulsion. With a sobbing little moan, she leaned forward, and her soft full lips took hold of the plum shaped head of her master’s prick. At his order, she put her hands to the backs of his legs, and humbly sucked and then rubbed her tongue over the puckering lips of his ramrod hard penis, until he was nearly ready to orgasm. “All right, tell me what you want of me, bitch”, he panted “Please—please fuck me, m-m-master, ”Marie shuddered murmured. “With pleasure”, he chuckled gloatingly, and bent and grasped her breasts, slippery with blood, with his hard fingers, pinching and twisting till she cried out in pain, and a fresh flow of scarlet began to seep from the nipples. Brutally he forced her down on her back and savagely mounted atop her, thrusting painfully into her tortured vagina, stretching it painfully, ignoring the livid stripes that marked her slim body. The Ropemaster knelt in front of the suffering woman and as the Witchfinder fucked wildly into the stunned, helpless woman, he tipped her head back, and guided his stiff cock into her soft mouth, and laughed as her eyes grew huge in fear. “Suck, suck him,” The Ropemaster snarled,” Or you’ll get more, this time all across the tits,” and as he finished, he gripped her pear shaped breasts, and squeezed. She sucked. A few moments after the Witchfinder ejaculated into her belly, the Ropemaster in turn spurted gouts of white semen into her face, overflowing her mouth as she coughed, and gagged, the sticky sperm falling down her cheeks, and lodging in her long massy blond hair. A few moments later, she groaned, her body fell lax, and her eyes closed in unconsciousness. Later, they washed away the streaks of blood that laced her white skin, and applied salve over her entire body, greatly easing the poor girls pain, and when they finally laid her down and covered her with a sheet, she fell completely limp, unconscious at long last. The arrival of the Minister with news of several new girls including one dark haired beauty of 19 years being captured and placed into the upstairs cells distracted the two men. They had planned to abuse Marie’s unconscious body still further, but they quickly summoned Milo to remove her to the cells. He carried the battered and unconscious form of Marie to the cells below, admiring her classic petite beauty which still shone forth, even though she lay lax and unconscious in his arms. Her long hair fell over her face as he lifted her up, and roughly put her over his shoulder. Part 5 revised 12/29/95 (posted in three parts due to server limitations)