~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)