~Subject: Repost: Tales of the Witchfinder part 3A ~From: an481236@anon.penet.fi (Saint Elmo) ~Date: Wed, 24 Jan 1996 13:11:22 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. ( In part 1 we learned how the Witch hunt originated, and how Matthew Hopkins manipulated and used his victims. We saw how he seized property and people, on the pretext of purging the community from witchcraft. Now the plan widens, and the Dutchess, already a prisoner in her own castle, seeks help, and suffers still more.) (Part 3 opens with how the accused witch, June, and her family, were treated and ends with a hope for escape but not without a price.Part three appears in three postings a,b,and c due to limitations of the server) While this series of stories are only historical re-creations, fictional in legal terms, they are based upon solid historical fact. They are based partly upon the life and well documented history of the man, Matthew Hopkins, who today is seen as a warped sadist, but at that time held the highest respect of the King, and the wholehearted fear of the churches in England. For his word was life or death to those who encountered him. The writings which follow should be avoided if the reader is not of legal age to read about perversions, rape, bondage, torture, and religious persecutions. though while events even worse than those described herein actually occurred, it is felt that the tender minds of our youth should not be exposed to them ,although in historical fact, they actually did occur, and indeed, have continued to occur with sad frequency in our history. Currently, the law has forbidden that anyone under 18 should read these lines. The thought is that those moldable young minds might be destroyed, or tempted to emulate these acts, if they knew about them. Foolish thinking, for there are no crueler beings on the planet than teenaged children, whether they have read these lines, or not. But observe the law, for it IS the law, and if you are under eighteen, or this material offends you, stop now, and go do something healthy and rewarding other than studying history, and the snake pits that civilization occasionally creates..... The author Part 3a The destruction of the Wilson Family The Witchfinder stared broodingly as Milo brought the three women into the room with the great fireplace. His eyes immediately apprehended the beauty of the three women, and his pulse quickened and excitement grew as he realized that it was none other than the young woman with the long curly blond hair who was the accused witch, and would be his first victim. The mother was obviously a beauty as well, and the smallest woman, with a delightfully slim body, with modest budding breasts was clearly also the youngest. She also had her blond hair piled in a tall braid. The Witchfinder had long an obsession with blond women, and he was excited at the prospects that were now growing large in his mind.. His growing pleasure and excitement was difficult to conceal behind the stern mask he forced himself to display as Milo lined them up facing him with their backs to the fire. Here were three of the most beautiful women he had encountered in all of his travels in England. A sudden rush of excitement in his groin made his heavy cock begin to stiffen as he considered the possibilities. "Your names?" He demanded loudly Boldly Leslie answered, " I am Leslie Wilson and these are my two daughters, June and Marie. Please, master, what have we done? Your servants said we were witches" The Witchfinder did not answer immediately, his eyes still devouring the beauty of the three. He stared long, and his pulse quickened as he realized that the young girl with the long curly blond hair was almost certainly the one Earl had accused of witchcraft. Oh yes, he thought, she would be a very good first witch. There was no doubt now. He knew that he would have all three of them eventually, but the long curly haired blond was to be the initial victim. Satisfied he turned to Milo. His lust had been somewhat tempered by the rape of the Duchess only hours ago, still, his cock twitched and began to stiffen as he stared at the women. "Which one is June," he asked Earl, who had been lurking quietly behind the women. Earl pointed to the middle girl, and the Witchfinder knew his guess had been correct. Milo, holding June by the elbows from behind, thrust her forward. She stumbled from the unexpected push, and fell to her knees in front of the Witchfinder. She looked upward at him, dazed, then looked about her slowly, seeing Earl, the Witchfinder, and Milo, but still not comprehending her danger. An appealing half smile appeared on her perfectly chiseled features. Charming, he thought. The Witchfinder knew the look. He had seen it often on the faces of the innocents before they first apprehended danger. He gestured to Milo and the Whipmaster." Take these two away, and hold them for our questioning later." The Whipmaster seized the petite mother roughly from behind, and in a sudden flurry of struggle and cries to stop, forced the mother out the door, and down a long flight of stairs, toward the barred cells below, where Milo was to guard the prisoners. Milo smiled at the Witchfinder, and gripped Marie by her elbow. Marie was terrified. She saw June on her knees before the great hulking figure, and screamed in fear as her mother was dragged away. Milo pulled Marie's struggling figure away leaving the slender figure of June kneeling alone in front of the fireplace. Once inside the cell block, Milo untied her bound wrists, then grinning at the terrified little girl closed and locked the door, ignoring her pleadings, and waited for the Whipmaster to bring his captive to the cells. Leslie, however, was not so fortunate. After he had taken Leslie down the stairs, the Whipmaster began moving slowly, enjoying the feeling of the soft squirming body of the supple full bodied woman he now held firmly in his hands, and listening to her desperate pleading made his cock stiffen. As it continued, so did his arousal.. Suddenly he decided that this woman would be his before she was questioned, or tried. A chancy business, he knew, but with such a long time between victims, his balls were loaded, and heavy, and his rock hard prick demanded relief. He had heard that the Witchfinder had raped the Duchess, but he had enjoyed no such chance to get his balls off. This was his opportunity, while everyone was concentrating on the witch. On impulse he turned toward the torture chamber which was as yet still unoccupied, and he saw Milo continue toward the cell block with the youngest daughter struggling in his grip. His detour was unnoticed. When they reached the chamber, he shoved Leslie forward toward a post that stood upright in the center of the room, and reaching up, clasped manacles around her wrists, so she had to stand with arms upraised, and watch puzzled and helpless as the Whipmaster left the room. He walked quickly to the cell block, and hailed Milo. Milo glanced about, expecting to see the mother, then not seeing her guessed the answer. He smiled at the Whipmaster. "The mother had to go to piss, perhaps?" he suggested. The Whipmaster nodded, "She will be delayed for a while until she gets her cunt stretched. Don't be concerned if she is a little late getting to her cell." "Sure", Milo responded. No one knew that he also had raped Duchess, and as a result was much less aroused by the females in his charge. "Bring her to the cells when you are through". Milo knew that the Witchfinder would not have approved, but the Whipmaster was undoubtedly going to amuse himself a bit before the trial, and they were close friends. He watched as the Whipmaster turned abruptly, and picked up a coil of strong thin rope, and strode quickly away toward the torture chamber. After a quick look to make sure that Marie was locked away, he hurried to return to the chamber where he could watch the testing of the newest witch. The Whipmaster had been eager to take Leslie away from the room where the Witchfinder was questioning June, and as he held the warm little body of the full breasted beauty against him, the pent up lust in his great body would not wait. It had been a long time since such an opportunity had appeared and he was eager to grasp it. He had admired Leslie as they had entered the large room upstairs. She had stood a little apart from her bound daughters, June and Marie. She had been dressed in a short white silk single nightgown, and honey colored panties, which revealed the naked slender well muscled thighs, which, even at their tops were only slightly larger than his upper arm. The large breasts jutting out and emphasizing her small waist, thrust aggressively against the thin fabric. They were still full and firm even after having twice given suck to her children. She now stood motionless, wrists held overhead against the rough wooden post, staring at the Whipmaster's great six and a half foot body that towered over her, trying to read what was in this huge man's eyes. It was evil, she knew, but was she going to die here in this room? Leslie was a terrified, helpless, woman, not ready for what was soon to befall her, yet her courage kept her from showing her panic. The deep underground torture chamber was intended for the most difficult of the witches. Absolutely soundproof, this was a place all of the palace workers avoided, and he could be sure no one would hear her cries, nor come to her aid . He knew now what he was going to do. This woman was exciting him like none of the young bitches had, and he was determined to have his pleasure with her without interference, and before the rest of the group got their hands on her.. The Whipmaster knew that a beauty like Leslie would be quickly identified as a witch by the Witchfinder, and as soon as the Witchfinder had disposed of her daughter, this curvaceous little woman would be quickly brought to him for the "special" questioning. He had done seen it happen before. Many times. The Witch-hunters "special" questioning was always rough on the female. Before he put the hapless victim back into Milo's care, the woman was often at the point of death, and worthless sexually. Except to the cook, who often thrust his cock into human and animal corpses, before butchering them for the table, for among the other secrets that the Witchfinder and all of his men had was their penchant for cooked human flesh. Another reason to act quickly was the possibility that the judges might even allow her to leave the prison. The group had no experience with these judges, and until they could be compromised, the fools might release some of the women that were accused from the "confessions" soon to come. There was no question of her virginity. This was a mature woman, who even though terrified, radiated beauty and lithe slim sexiness. He stroked his rigid cock gently inside his trousers. Submission The Whipmaster released her from the post, and turned her to him. He leaned forward, gripped each side of the opening of her thin blouse at her neck, and with a single motion tore open the white cloth, baring her breasts to his gaze. She cried out, "Stop, don't hurt me, I am innocent"., then screamed shrilly in fright, not yet knowing, but suddenly sensing her oncoming fate. She desperately tried to cover herself with the rags, to small avail as he gripped her wrists and held them apart and stared down at her rosy tipped breasts for a few long moments, then thrust her downward, forcing her to her knees.. He gazed at the naked magnificence of the kneeling helpless woman in front of him, her long golden tresses now falling loosely over the twin jutting breasts which looked even larger because of her tiny waist. Slowly he picked up the thin, strong cord he had decided would hold her most tastefully, and moving deliberately, enjoying each little cry from her, he bound her wrists tightly behind her. He moved in front of her then and buried both of his fists in the mass of rich golden tresses and pulled her face to his crotch. She resisted only momentarily, and then as he freed one hand and opened his belt, shoved his trousers down and stepped out of them, freeing his cock. She felt the thick shaft press against her lips, and smelled the musky odor of his crotch. She knew what she would be required to do, now. Silently, gently, she closed her soft velvety lips over the head of his penis, and with her tongue began to stroke it rapidly, as she had so often done with her husband. She began to feel a hot flush of excitement burst into a glow between her legs, and knew she was getting wet. "They all love this," she thought, "And I love to do it to them." As his breathing deepened, and he pulled the half naked woman's face closer, she sucked harder, and slid her mouth along the full length of his now throbbing cock, licking and sucking the stiff penis as he began groaning with passion. He came too quickly, flooding her mouth with semen, so it ran down her chin and dripped onto her breasts and stomach. He had wanted to spend hours with her before turning her over to the Witchfinder, thus beginning the tortures he knew the Witchfinder would subject her to, but now they would have to wait a few minutes while he regained his strength. He pulled up his trousers and led the submissive woman, hands still bound behind her, to a seat. He finished dressing, then untied her "Eat, drink, and wrap yourself in this blanket ," He ordered, as he produced a bread and bottle of water he had previously put into the cell for his own use. "I will return in an hour, so be clean and ready for me." As an afterthought, he threw a heavy warm blanket to her He watched her as she quietly rubbed the circulation back into her tingling wrists and hands. Leslie wrapped her trembling body in the blanket, and bit into the bread, as he left her alone locked in the now silent chamber. She was terrified, but Leslie was a highly intelligent woman. She now knew her body was her weapon, and she must use it to gain her freedom, if it were at all possible to do. Sobs of despair finally shook her small frame, as she wondered where her daughters were. (Divided into parts a and b to accomodate the server) 1/12/96