The Witches Apprentice, Part 2

by Joanne

It was the year of our lord 1568 I was ten years old and under the protection of a witch, a handsome con-woman who saved me from certain death. We travelled together as lovers and plied our trade in the villages we came across. The soldiers of Queen Bess were searching out the papist supporters of the late Queen Mary and putting them to death. There was fear and suspicion everywhere.

We robbed, conned and stole at every opportunity. We sold the potions we made from the herbs and fungi we found. We administered medicine for every ailment under the sun, most of which were completely useless. We bartered for goods we needed such as arms and black power. I had an occasion to be very grateful for this trade not so long ago.

It was when Mary, my beloved witch, was away checking her traps for rabbits. I was stoking the fire preparing for the supper to come. It was our horse snorting that raised the alarm. I looked up to see that I was surrounded by soldiers. A big brute of a man stepped forward. He grabbed me by the hair. He grinned with broken and blackened teeth. I tried to scream but nothing came out. With the other hand he tore my smock off. I was naked and terrified.

He squeezed my bottom, "A pert little morsel," he laughed.

Following his lead the others also laughed lustfully.

I found my voice, "I am the property of a witch. She will send you all to hell."

It was in vain, the brute pushed me to the ground and spread my legs. "Have you ever seen a lovelier sight?" he said.

There were guttural noises from the audience.

He thrust his evil manhood into me. He bit into my shoulder as he fucked me. Soon I was thrown amongst them all. I blacked out. I was lost in a world of evil visions.

I woke to the voice of a sobbing Mary, "Bess, my lovely Bess. What have they done?"

I was black and bruised, blood poured from my anus, my cunt and my mouth where I was raped over and over. I was bitten all around my cunt. Every part of me hurt. She gave me a powder that sent me off to a warm comfortable oblivion.

Slowly, over the next few days and weeks, I recovered. My strength gradually returned. Mary tended to my wounds and curled up beside me each night keeping me safe in her warmth. I could feel her heart beat, I knew it would beat with hatred and a burning desire for revenge. I could feel rather than hear her crying in the night. I knew that the soldier's days were numbered and that hell awaited them.

She coached me over and over until I knew the plan inside out. I practiced with Mary's crossbow until I could hit a target at fifty paces. The crossbow had been attached to the saddle of the horse we once stole. She had prepared the bolts which now had parcels of black powder attached to them. We were ready.

Finding the soldier's camp was child's play for a witch of Mary's experience. There was a half dozen of them led by the brute I will always remember. The first part of the plan was started. She crawled on her belly unobserved and put a handful of powder into the barrel of ale they stole from us on that terrifying night. We waited until Mary was sure that the effect was advanced. She then boldly walked into the camp.

She danced on the spot waving her arms. "You dared to rape my girl knowing she was mine. Hell now awaits you."

At that precise moment the first of the powder ladened bolts entered the fire. The flash both startled and dazzled them. Mary leaped forward and slapped the power she had in her hand into the gaping mouth of the brute. As eyes recovered they were greeted with the sight of the brute's mouth foaming massively.

One of those watching screamed, "The devil is within him." He leaped forward waving his sword and sliced the brute's head off. The excitement of the moment and the effect of the powder had them all seeing both devils and angels in equal number. Mary danced amongst them slitting throats and stabbing genitals. The screams of the men and the carnage had my cunt weeping, as I lusted for the revenge. I knew, at that moment, that I was a witch as well and I was grateful for it. I pissed on the dead. I held up the severed cocks of the dying. I lay in the blood as Mary fucked me and cursed they souls to hell.

We travelled on, leaving the carnage to act as a cautionary lesson. No soldier would inflict such wounds. It was clearly the work of the devil. These troops must have offended him. No god fearing soul would touch them. They would be left to rot. We had taken nothing from the camp. We wanted nothing that could connect us to that scene.

That was months earlier. Our spirits were back to normal now. I was fully recovered. There were no signs of the abuse except for the crescent shaped mark of a bite on my shoulder. My innocence was gone forever though. I was a witch and I was proud of it. My body was developing and lust raged within me all the time and virtually every part of my body was erogenous. My juices would run with the least provocation, even the movement of the wagon would turn me into a wanton whore. The wooden cock was well worn and smooth. I could not sleep until I had felt Mary's loving tongue on and in my cunt. Our favoured way was to lay on our sides and side by side head to tail. She would work her magic to my clitoris and cunt whilst I fucked her with the cock. The cock would then be passed and the treatment reversed. The wagon would rock alarmingly but nobody cared as our passion raged. We would kiss and cuddle and settle down for the night secure in each other's warmth and we would sleep the sleep of the just.

I loved Mary, but that didn't stop me lusting for the village girls we came across and it didn't stop Mary doing the same. We always camped just outside the villages. This was one of the things that Mary taught me. If the villagers got too close and got to know us. The mystique and the fear of us would be lost. We drove hard bargains, in part, because they feared the curse that would surely follow if they cheated us. Security was always high in Mary's mind. The wagon had a false bottom in which was stored our wealth and this was considerable. We robbed where we could and it was only fear that stopped us being run down and punished. We took away the virtue of many girls and the same fear of pursuit applied. Fear was our weapon. We were not just armed but very well armed. Weapons were secreted away around the wagon just in case we were ever attacked.

It was curiosity that was these girls downfall and what brought them to our camp. The breath was already catching in their throats by an excitement they didn't understand. Seducing them and ravishing them was easy. Their parents would warn them not to approach us. There was no surer way to ensure that they would do just that. Many of the older ones had already discovered their clitorises. When we stripped them in the wagon their draws were wringing wet and they were begging for relief. Their screaming passion spoke for itself. We plunged our faces into her groins and sucked on their clitorises before fucking them silly.

The little ones, some of them three of fours years my junior, would delight in having their little cunts caressed and licked. They would thrash about in their passion whether they understood what was happening or not. To them it was a game that they enjoyed for its own sake and they often returned for more. The orgies were helped by the heady smoke that Mary's pipe gave off. It was filled with a weed that she collected and dried herself. It made people mellow and relaxed them. It took away their fears and allowed them to enjoy themselves. It was doubtful if they would ever return to being the virtuous and dutiful little girls that they previously were, but we would be long gone by then. We never went to them, they always came to us and we never forced them. They did what they bodies demanded and enjoyed every moment of it.

We would see the women in the fields, as we travelled along, bent double working the land. This was the future waiting for all the girls we fucked. Who would deny them the joy of their young bodies? They would be married soon enough and creating the next generation. What use is their virtue to them then. I was deep in that thought as we rounded a bent and started down hill towards a river, the horse startled and reared up when a girl of about thirteen jumped out in front of us. She was dirty and bedraggled having just come from the fields. She was knocked down but not seriously hurt. "Quick," she said as she lay helpless, "take me, please, quickly take me."

Mary was angry having almost run her down to her death. She jumped down, I had no idea what she would do.

"Stop!" I shouted. I flashed back to when I was desperately running away and when Mary saved me.

She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at me, "Help her," I said.

"Why?" She's surely trouble.

"I don't know. It's just a feeling from when we met," I said, "…and anyway, if there is trouble, we can just fuck her and throw her back."

Mary scooped her up and threw her into the wagon. She jumped back up onto the seat and whipped the horse. It took off at a gallop. I knew that it would die if we kept this pace for long. She then reined it in and turned it into the river. The water was almost axle deep the horse struggled but it had the flow of the river to help it and managed a reasonable pace. She then pulled it off onto a low bank and stopped.

"Why are we taking this risk? Mary said. She was not amused.

"Instinct, what made her chose a witch? Why would anyone expect help from us?"

"OK, let's ask her," I could tell Mary was intrigued as much as I was now.

I opened the wagon door. The girl had spent her time locked in there searching the place. She had found one of our pistols and was now pointing it at us, "You are not going to fuck me and throw me back," she said. The muzzle was rock steady, not a trace of nerves. She held the heavy pistol in both hands with both forefingers on the trigger.

Mary spoke calmly, "You are a very impressive young lady. Why don't you tell us your story?

The girl's nostrils were flared and her eyes were steady and steely blue any movement would have been fatal. "You are a child with soft hands," Mary said, "a child with pale skin. You don't work in the fields and there is only one reason why a young girl should not be afraid of witches. You have lived with witches or you are the daughter of a witch or you are a witch. Which one is it?"

A shadow appeared in the girl's eyes for the first time. Mary knew why, "That pistol is getting heavy isn't it? Why don't you put it down you're quite safe with us."

Mary stared at the girl and the girl just stared back. After a stand off of several seconds the girl could not hold the weapon up any longer, "Fuck," she said and dropped her arms.

Mary calmly took the weapon off her, "Now stop fucking about and tell us your story."

"You were right," she said. "My mother was a witch, a lovely kindly witch, she helped people with medicines, advice and child birth, but none of that mattered. "Was?" I interrupted enquiringly.

"Yes, in spite of the good she did she was killed. The monks just swept over the hillside, we had no chance to escape."

"Monks, what monks?"

"The soldier monks," We looked blank, "they see themselves as god's soldiers sworn to rid the world of evil." She explained. "They took me prisoner and dumped me at a convent. Eventually the nuns decided that I was more trouble than I was worth, but not before they used me in their orgies. When they tired of me they sold me into serfdom. That was a week ago. I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you travel past the field I was in, but then I heard you talk about fucking me and throwing me back."

"We would never have done that, well the throwing you back bit anyway," I said.

"That raises a problem though," said Mary. "We only have one bed and we are lovers and so unless you want to sleep outside…" the sentence tailed off.

The girl shrugged her shoulders that said, "No problem."

So it was that we got our lucky mascot.

Mary collected branches and with twine she made up a cot. There was no room in the wagon for it to be in there all the time and so it spent the daytime outside, which we used as a seat. But at night it was slid in along side our bed. We continued to travel down stream until we could break out into grass land. The horse struggle overland until a road was crossed.

The first night was an uncomfortable affair. We were determined not to be put off and made love as usual. The girl was turned away and was asleep or at least she was pretending to be asleep. But after a week it was clear that she was masturbating. She was still facing away but her hands were between her legs and she was rocking. The rhythm of her rocking kept pace with us. After another week all pretence was gone. Her hot young body would join us on our bed. The nuns had opened her up. Although she was older than me she was boyish and slim. At thirteen years old there was no trace of the woman to come. She was smooth all over with no breast at all. Malnutrition and abuse had taken its toll. She made my tiny breast look mature. She just rocked gently, purring as her cunt was licked. She gradually arched her back. She grabbed my hand and guided to her cunt, "Fuck me," she begged. Her cunt yielded easily. She never talked about the nuns, but clearly they had opened her up thoroughly. She took more and more fingers until she screamed and shuddered up to and through her climax. From then on the cot was only used for sleeping. Until we gave in to sleep she was in our bed with us. She could give as good as she got, the nuns had taught her well. She could make my cunt sing.

Her name was Elizabeth, but unlike me, she was called Liz rather than Bess. We called her Lucky Liz, which later just became Lucky. Cleaned up, she was gorgeous, her blond hair just flowed in the wind. She was the most brilliant beggar I ever knew, people could not say no to her. Many a man wanted to buy her. Her mother taught her well she was well versed in the ways of witchcraft. She went off collecting the herbs and fungi alone with confidence. She knew potions that we had not seen before and she eagerly learned some from us. She was an asset and she was fun and would play games with an infectious giggle. We became very fond of her.

We bonded as a team very quickly. Sex was routinely a three way affair, many a time though Mary would just sit on the step puffing on her herbal pipe watching us writhing in ecstasy on the grass. There was no jealousy, we were so secure in our love for each other. This was more intimate though then the strangers we fucked on the way and I have to say Lucky was very very good at it. She likes to be on all fours and fucked with three of the smaller fingers up her cunt and with the forefinger up her anus. The nuns had worked on every orifice and she had grown to like it. And anyway, for Mary, it was good to watch as our young bodies left nothing hidden. The dreams, that Mary's smoke induced, exaggerated the effect of the reflected flickering light of the fire on our bodies. She could reach her climax and orgasm without touching herself at all. The sight of us and the power of her pipe were enough. Her legs would spread and shake and her head would bow with the strength of it surging through her. It was an intensely erotic sight to behold. These were happy times.

Having been run down and captured once before Lucky was very cautious. She happily went off collecting herbs and laying traps, but she always took two pistols with her. She had them tucked into her belt together with the dagger that was used to dig the fungi etc. She was on one such mission that day.

Mary and I were preparing potions which involved boiling the herbs up in separate pots and mixing different ones together to secret recipes. The resulting fluids formed powerful drugs, which we jarred and the sediments were dried and stored for future use. We were busy in our work when we were suddenly set upon. There were four monks in habits of black. They jumped from their horses and grabbed us. The hoods were full and partially obscured their faces. Only their dark beards were visible. They were terrifying. This was made worse by the fact that in spite of our protests not a word was spoken, they just bound our hands and tore our clothes away.

One of them threw a noose over the bow of a tree. It was then mercifully, that Lucky arrived. She had a pistol in one hand and the dagger in the other. One of them tried to take the pistol and got a dagger in the face, piercing an eye, for his trouble. She moved with such speed that she corralled the monks together. She cut the knots and our bounds which then just fell to the floor.

"Strip them and tie them," she said. This was her time, she was in control. The steely blue eyes flashed as they did when we first met. We obeyed without question. She cut the thicker rope used for the noose into four pieces.

"They are mine," she said, "This is for my mother." Under instruction we herded them deep into the woods. She then used the thick rope to tie each of them around their neck and around the truck of a tree, all four of them stood facing each other. She spoke to them. There was deep loathing in her voice. "If you believe in your murderous god now would be a good time to pray."

She went to her knees in front of them one by one. She took they cocks into her mouth and, using great skill, she raised them to there fullest extend. She then sliced them off with her dagger. A fountain of blood soaked her, cleansing her hatred. The first one was grinning at first at the pleasure she was giving him. This turned to howls of horror until he bled to death. The others were screaming and crying and whimpering as she attended to each of them in turn. She was covered in their blood. She stayed there until each and every one of them was dead. It was a witches' revenge. We didn't interfere. She knew that after the animals of the forest had done their work there wouldn't be much left. She laid out their habits and possessions in front of them to identify them for what they were. Anyone viewing the scene would assume it to be the work of the devil.

Back at camp we stripped her naked of the blood soaked clothes and threw them onto the fire. She stood erect as we washed her. She had saved our lives and avenged her mother and she had certainly earned her nickname. We made love around that fire as a celebration of our survival. The incident was never mentioned again.

The changes in Lucky over the next few weeks and months were remarkable. Good food and release from the hatred that processed her, allowed her body the recover. She started to menstruate. Her pubic hair seemed to sprout in front of our eyes. Blond and wispy it hardly changed her look. The most prominent change was the spouting of her breast. In a few weeks they had overtaken mine. There was now no doubt which child was the older.

Since the death of Queen (Bloody) Mary, England was a more prosperous and a happy place. The soldier monks had disappeared from the lands, either killed by the queen's soldiers or banished to other lands. The three of us were very happy. We enjoyed our nakedness in the privacy of our camp and made love freely. We had introduced Lucky to our wooden cock which she used with joy. The first time was a pleasure to behold. Her face was buried into Mary's cunt, she was in her favoured doggie position. Mary was screaming as she approached her climax. I took my mouth away from Lucky's clitoris. I then rammed the cock into her cunt up to the hilt. I fucked her with such vigour that she raised her head and howled like a hound.

She has since persuaded Mary to make a range of cocks, some larger and some longer. Some bent and knurled as the branch itself was. She took thin light twigs and bound them together. She would then beg me to thrash her buttocks with them as I fucked her. Lucky awakened us to pleasures of the flesh we had not previously known. We were three misfits that were given adult attitudes to sex and life early. We really did not have a childhood at all. We were plunged either by rape or by poverty into adulthood far too soon and so, now at last in our three way love affair, we enjoyed a crazy childhood together.