~Subject: Tales of the Witchfinder Part 6a
~From: an481236@anon.penet.fi
~Date: Tue, 16 Jan 1996 10:47:46 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. 

   Part 2 illustrated how the plan widens, and the Dutchess,
already a prisoner in her own castle,and seeks help, .

   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 4 tells of the failed messenger's fate, and how the
Dutchess is doomed by it.

   Part 5 details Matthew Hopkin's crimes on the persons accused of
Witchcraft.

   Part 6 illustrates both how victims escaped, and how some were
made into slaves. 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 6

   Judicial Fairness

   June pleaded with the men as they led Marie away the following
morning. "Please, I Beg of you, don't torture my sister. I will
confess to everything, if you will but show mercy to my poor
sister.!"

   "Silence, bitch" Thundered Milo. "The little one can only be
saved if the Master finds that the devil is driven out of her, and
that is done with the whip!" June collapsed in tears as Marie
struggling helplessly was taken away.

   The Whipmaster was careful. This little cunt was worth money to
him alive, but not if she were dead. She must suffer enough to
satisfy the Witchfinder, but still be able to survive him.

   He selected a short, stiff, murderous looking flexible whip,
made of rhino hide, with a long braided leather handle and planted
himself at the small woman's left.

   "Remember bitch, this is for the good of your soul. You will
learn to obey every man who commands you, or this will not be the
end. If you do not finally learn obedience, we will turn you over
to the guards, who number over one hundred.

   They will fuck you again and again, and whip you every day,
doing to you anything they wish, until the day you die at the
stake.

   Confess and accept your punishment now, for your sinful
behavior, and confess the names of your associates".

   He contemplated the curvaceous young girl as he planned his
action. Twelve blows distributed evenly should bring her to the
edge of unconsciousness. She must not be permitted to escape the
pain by fainting. Any less would make the Witchfinder suspicious.

   Six on the front above the waist, over those swollen titties,
and the final six on the insides of her thighs, and one or two on
the gap between her legs where he could see her pink little slit
outlined with two fat lips. That should do it, he thought. The pig
farmer would get a tasty bit of cunt tonight, he thought.

   It was these last blows that usually resulted in fatal injury,
and because the belly sometimes split and let intestines burst
free. He would delay the final strokes until he was sure she had
stopped confessing. Two of the seven preceding victims he had
obtained confessions from died shortly afterward. The Whipmaster
felt that the buggering and rape by the Witchfinder and Ropemaster
that normally followed the whipping was more of a shock to the
girls than the whipping itself.

   He drew himself up and pulled the whip gently across her naked
body, to heighten her fear.

   Marie screamed, "Please, someone, anyone, help me, help
me-e-e-e-e---" The pitiful scream broke as she saw him draw back
his arm.

   She closed her eyes, and braced herself.

   He made the whip whistle through the air, and bound with a sharp
splat as he laid the first of the four stripes over the upper
summits of her swollen breasts, and Marie involuntarily arched and
twisted upward to the limits of her bonds, and then falling back as
he paused between strokes, lay stiff in searing agony, her head
tilting back, her eyes now wide open and enormous, blurred with
sudden tears as a muffled cry came through her clenched lips. She
had expected pain, but this was sheer agony.

   A darkening red narrow line sprang up at once on the tawny
flesh. The Whipmaster struck again, not waiting for her to speak,
striking hard an inch below the first stripe, then a third time an
inch below that. At each blow, her tethered, naked body twisted and
writhed from side to side, trying to kick out, while maddened,
unintelligible cries escaped her.

   The Whipmaster paused at a gesture from the Witchfinder, and
stood aside. Witchfinder rose from his seat and advanced to the
helpless writhing woman, and stared into her tear streaked face.

   "SATAN BEGONE!!" he shouted to her, and gripping each nipple
between a hard thumb and forefinger, he pulled the breasts of the
poor girl up and out to great length, until a scream of agony burst
free of the little woman's lips. "AHHHHHhhhhh....."] "CONFESS!!" he
roared.

   "Oh yes, yes, I confess, I confess, I confess, just stop,
stoppppp....

   He voice trailed away.

   "The witchfinder swung around to the judges,"did you hear her
confess the names of the women in her coven?? The three judges
licked thier lips and nodded.

   He turned to the Whipmaster, wiping his bloody fingers on
Marie's convulsing belly.

   "The screams shall be a lesson for the others," he nodded to the
bound maids, who stared at Marie's agonized body and in each girls
mind, each saw herself there under the lash. Put her back into her
cell. She will burn with the rest.

   "As you will, master", the Whipmaster replied, and returned to
his victim, who now lay trembling in sobbing agony, dazed, and
uncomprehending.

   He stared down at her helpless nude body noticing the twin
streams of blood now leaking down her heaving chest from her torn
nipples, where the Witchfinder had ripped her delicate tissues.
Because of the way she was held in the rack, Marie could not see
the livid stripes of the lash, nor her bleeding breasts, and
slumped limply against him as he unfastened her, and lifted her in
his arms to take her to her cell.

   The second escape Freedom The Whipmaster felt the first quick
thrill of a warm tongue on the tip of his swollen cock, and knew
the little golden haired beauty was going to be a good student.

   Marie had been brought to a state of utter subservience, and now
knelt, still naked, and covered with filth, dried blood, and
bruised body, in front of the Whipmaster.

   As the helpless Marie slipped the great purplish head of The
Whipmaster's cock into the warm recesses of her mouth, June was
walking stiffly and painfully behind the Ropemaster into the room
where her mother had undergone a brutal rape and torture only a day
earlier at the hands of the Whipmaster. June was going to be
tortured still more.

   But Leslie was now safely hidden at Earl's home, her freedom
purchased with gold.

   He gripped the little womans head and thrust deep, crying
"ArRRRRGHH!!" and spurted semen in great pulsing jets down the poor
girl's throat. God.! She was just right.

   Marie swallowed as much as she could, then let the rest run down
the front of her body.

   She despaired for her life now, and hopelessness made her
indiffrent.

   "Put these on", The Whipmaster ordered Marie, as he threw down
a skirt and blouse.

   They were filthy, and Marie hesitated for a moment, then quickly
lifted the blanket and donned the skirt and blouse. The skirt was
too long, and the blouse too tight, but she fastened the buttons
with shaking hands over her swollen breasts. She was terrified of
this man, and instantly obeyed him.

   "Follow me", he ordered, and looped a thin rope over her wrists.
She silently obeyed, her terror closing her mouth tightly.

   The went upward from the dungeon into the quiet kitchen, and
Marie saw the great meat block, and the ovens used in the castle.
Was she to be tortured still more? Where was he taking her? To his
private quarters, perhaps?.

   She followed him to the door, and there to her astonishment was
Earl, the farmer.

    "Keep silent Marie, and you will leave here alive, but if you
make noise, we are both liable to be hung." She nodded, and
followed him.

   The Whipmaster grinned in the darkness as he watched them
disappear into the gloom, and thought " That was a good looking
cunt, if I do say so myself, but she isn't worth thirty pieces of
gold", and closed the door.

   Leslie clasped her daughter to her breast and they both cried,
as Earl watched. He knew that both women were going to be his
virtual slaves. Now for the last, and most difficult task, the
rescue of June.

   Beth Bell

   The Witchfinder spoke to the Whipmaster, "You have some skill,
I am told. Let us be amused by your punishment of this witch. Do
not slay her, for she is fair, and others will want to question her
before the fire takes her."

   The Whipmaster grinned. His cock was iron hard now, and he
approached the terrified form of the young woman and opened his
trousers. Marie had vanished two nights ago, and the Witchfinder
had been furious. Now he was resuming his interrogations.

   Beth was standing in the center of the room, arms apart, each
wrist bound to a chain which went to the ceiling of the chamber.
Each ankle was held a little more than her shoulder width apart by
strong ropes and were bound to rings in the floor.

   Beth was naked, terrified and now she stared at the approaching
man in dismay. He grasped Beth around her waist, and lifted her
buttocks upward with large hands, bending his knees and moving
between her spread legs, pressing her rounded hips toward his
sweaty crotch.

   "Nooooo, Please master, not that, not that"! Beth was slim,
beautiful, and had her long golden hair bound into a thick braid
that fell well below her hips. Proud full breasts jutted outward
from her chest tipped with large pink nipples.

   Beth was an accused witch who had confessed, with the aid of the
Witchfinder's long needle, and was now being used by the staff for
their amusement. She would later be roasted as a witch, but was
unaware of her coming doom.

   Now she watched in trembling wonder and fear as he carefully
inserted his cock between the striped thighs of the helpless little
woman who had already felt the sting of Milo's lash on her body,
and the painful agony as she had lost her virginity to Milo's
furious attack the day before.

   He thrust deep. She grunted, her eyes wide with fright, as she
felt his arms wrap fully around her thin waist, and with vicious
upward jabs of his cock, worked it full depth into the soft
clasping tissues of her vagina. Then as if she were in a dream, she
heard him cry out in a strained voice, and jam himself still deeper
into her, and as she felt every muscle in his body tense, he held
it there inside her for long twitching moments, as he groaned with
pleasure.

   Beth felt a hot trail of his semen as the liquid ran down her
leg from her violated body. She sagged helplessly now, hanging by
her wrists as her knees weakened.

   First tortured into admitting that she was a witch, then raped
by her captor, now abused once more by this man. Was there no end
to their evil?

   The Whipmaster was not done. He wiped his cock on the girls flat
belly, ran his hands down the length of her braided hair and picked
up a thin whip.

   He moved to her front. He gripped Beth's chin, tipped her golden
head far back and kissed her full upon her parted lips. He paused,
staring at the nude woman he had just beaten, and then raped, and
decided she was capable of still more entertainment. He moved back
and raised his whip again.

   Beth watched him warily, unsure of his plans.

   "Please let me go now. I will obey your every wish." With a
snakes quickness, he struck upward at each soft firm breast.

   Instantly Beth reacted to the fiery impact on the tender tissues
and jerked violently against her bonds. Her body stiffened in
agony, and then she screamed hoarsely, her voice weaker now, her
travail dulling with overloaded senses, but still strong, she
jerked wildly about, her body again in sudden agony. The two cruel
blows had left a narrow red weal across the underside of each full
pear shaped breast mound, and as he had struck, each had flipped
upward, then tossed about as she writhed in pain. After a pause, to
allow Beth's agony to develop fully, he again moved to her sweating
body, and leaned over to press his lips to each nipple. He sucked
each gently, then stepped away.

   He then delivered a second blow across each bleeding breast,
this one aimed carefully, and making sure Beth could see it coming
each time, he slowly drew back his arm and struck downward, making
each breast leap high into the air from the blow. She screamed
again and again and writhed wildly to escape the lash, to no avail.
Each blow fell precisely where he had aimed it, just behind the
rosy aureoles on her breasts.

   "AAAAAAAAAaaaaa, Oh, don't, not there master, oh, please don't
whip me anymore, oh, please don't", Beth begged hoarsely, her voice
hardly audible now.

   He was pleased to see a tiny flow of red blood begin to leak
downward from her nipples. This, he felt was the mark of an expert,
to crush the flesh with his whip, yet leave the surface unbroken,
though marked.

   Four blows had started the blood from the nipples, so he now
precisely laid the next two blows of the thin whip directly across
each pink bleeding nipple, slicing the tender sensitive flesh. The
flow of brilliant red blood increased to a pulsing steady flow that
began to run down the sides of Beth's slim straining body in a hot
sticky skein, gathering in a pool under her body. This was the
tricky part now, for the last four lashes must be placed just
right, or she would die where she hung, and the Witchfinder would
uprade him for carelessness.

   He selected the heavy whip with the doorknob shaped tip and
again approached Beth's helpless body. he pressed apart her slim
thighs, and knelt in front of her. He leaned forward and kissed her
on the vagina. Beth was horrified. He rose, and kissed her again on
her lips.

   He slowly raised the whip as Beth began screaming in
anticipation and then brought it down. It curled over her right
hip, swung through her crotch and the knob smashed hard into her
pubis, spraying blood. Beth's scream stopped. She worked her lips
soundlessly, the agony too great to allow her to get her breath.

   Then, before she recovered he had moved to her other side, and
repeated the blow, this time the lash crossing over her left hip,
but the heavy metal knob fell on the same crushed area of fatty
flesh of her pubis striking with a spray of blood.

   He finished the last two blows across her twitching, convulsing
taut belly, one above the other below her belly button using the
thin lash he had opened her nipples with. Beth felt the final blows
as a blossom of agony too great to bear, and escaped into
unconsciousness.

   Sweating, and drained, the Whipmaster turned away as the
Ropemaster began unfastening the ropes from Beth's bloody ankles.

   The Witness to June's abuse

   Milo had been unable to control himself as he had watched June
being raped by the torturer, and had turned to the white faced
Janet , who lay curled in terror on her cot. Gripping her naked
shoulders, he pulled her to the cell wall facing the two in the
next cell, who were now so intent on each other that they did not
note Milo's presence. Janet now stood, with her legs far apart, her
body bent forward, and with her wrists tied to the bars of her
cell. She began moaning in terror as Milo pressed close behind her,
clasped her tiny waist with both hard hands and buried himself deep
inside her tender vagina.

   Janet's eyes were huge with terror, as Milo thrust deeper and
deeper into her body.

   It was exciting Janet just to feel his member inside her slim
bent forward body, even as she was being forced to witness her
friend being raped only a few feet away by the torturer.

   Finally Milo put his hand over her mouth, silencing her, but he
forced her to watch as the torturer continued the cruel rape of her
friend. Finally Milo could hold back no longer, and grunting, and
gripping her hard about the waist, ejaculated into Janet, draining
himself completely, overflowing her tight tunnel, so that sperm ran
in a sticky stream down the inside of her thighs.

   It was almost at the same moment that the two men's eyes met,
and they laughed.

   June, free of the torturer, now lay motionless, face down on the
floor, knees spread far apart, slim legs asprawl. He rose and moved
away from the bloody victim, pulling on his clothes as he did so.

   "Ah Milo," he said, "I appears that the rewards of being a chief
guard are not all limited to gold." and smiled.

   Milo smiled back, "As are the rewards of a torturer." and they
both laughed and glanced at the naked women in their cells.

   They watched in amusement as June slowly rolled to her side,
then rose to her knees, her hands over her bleeding bottom, her
eyes wide in agony, as she made little movements with her legs
trying to ease the pain.

   Milo released his victim's wrists from their bindings, then
turned her to face him and reaching forward to the small girl, held
Janet's face between his hands and stared into her wide violet
eyes. He spoke softly, and not unkindly to her.

   "Your friend and your mother are doomed, as are you yourself.
The Witch finder will torture you all for his amusement, rape and
whip some of you until he tires of his sport, then he will have you
burned at the stake as witches. You will never return to your home
again, although a beautiful young girl like yourself might be
ransomed, if enough gold were offered. Or.." his voice trailed
away.

   "There might be a way you can be freed from this place if you do
what I tell you" "Yes, yes, master, I will do anything" Janet was
almost crying with the desperation in her voice.

   He turned and walked out of the cell, slamming the iron door
behind him. In the morning, he thought.