Bella skipped elegantly across to the flowering geraniums and knelt to smell the beautiful orange blooms. She breathed in the exquisite scent, loving the feel of the warm, sweet-smelling air as it breezed up her nasal passages and coursed deep into her lungs. Her chest expanded, pushing her firm boobs against her tightly laced dress. My, how she loved the springtime.

The slim, pretty, dark-haired girl moved her cute, twitching nose from one glorious bloom to the next, savouring the different scents. A flitting butterfly flew past her, landing on a flower just an inch before her nose, causing her to stare cross-eyed as she tried to focus on it. She giggled like a girl half her age.

A little sorrowfully, Bella picked up her wicker basket and sauntered off to the back of her little one-room cottage to the large herb garden beyond. She walked up and down the many long rows of neatly sown plants and picked leaves off here and there. She knew just how much of each plant to pick. With her basket now full, Bella returned indoors to grind and mix her plants and then to create the wonderful healing potions that she could sell in the village.

As she often did, Bella thought sadly of her dear old Aunt who had died during the recent horribly long, cold winter, leaving her alone in their tiny cottage. Her Aunt had taught her how to grow, pick and mix the herbs and how to create the medicines that her friends in the village valued so highly. If not for the modest income Bella now gained from their sale, she did not know what would have happened to her.

Bella walked again into the bright afternoon sunshine, and laid out some of her picked herbs to dry. She raised her face to the sun, allowing the warm rays to light up her pretty, delicate features. She knew the sun would bring her cute freckles out, and she liked that, even if some of the boys in the village would tease her, saying she had the pox!

Wow, it really was such a gorgeous day. Bella decided she had done enough chores and that she deserved a rest on this first warm, sunny day of what she hoped would be a long, hot summer. She fetched her Aunt's old rocking chair and set it up outside the door of her cottage. In just a few minutes she was blissfully asleep, rocking gently back and forward, dreaming the dreams of a contented, young girl.

Bella did not hear the clip-clop of horses' hooves in the narrow lane outside her garden. She did not even awaken when one horse stopped and its rider took a good, long look at her. The Duke's son leaned in his saddle and watched the beautiful, snoozing girl. He saw her long, silky, dark hair tied in a flowing ponytail beneath her pretty black and white bonnet. He looked at her slim body, modestly covered by her long, white dress with its laced front denying him any view of the beautiful, pale flesh he just knew was hiding underneath. He loved the way he could see her steady breathing, with the rhythmic rise and fall of her youthful chest. He could almost feel her heart beating. He could just make out the bottom of her shapely calves between the hem of her dress and her white ankle socks, and could certainly see her sweet, peaceful face soaking in the sunshine. Her flawless, freckled skin, neat, dark eyebrows, cute button nose and the slightly parted rosy pink lips of her pretty mouth, just begging to be kissed. “I bet she's got the most beautiful, sparkling green eyes,” he thought. “She surely is a creature from Heaven.”

The impatient shouts of his father disturbed his ogling and woke the slumbering girl. She stared in wide-eyed surprise at her unexpected admirer, flashing her glorious green eyes in the bright evening sunshine. The Duke's son smiled as his fantasy came true. He doffed his hat politely at the startled girl. Then he spurred his black stallion and galloped away.

Bella was puzzled. Had she been dreaming, or was that really a handsome, young nobleman taking an interest in a lowly, young peasant girl? She felt a strange tingling in her body as she returned to the safe solitude of her little cottage and shut the door.

As she pottered about, mixing her herbs and checking on the progress of the potions she had in various stages of completion, Bella thought more about her visitor. He was obviously of good breeding, being very smartly and expensively dressed, but she could not remember seeing him around the village before. Then again, she only ventured there once a week to sell her wares at the market, and her customers were quite small in number, though very loyal. Apart from market days, she had never mixed much with most of the villagers, being a shy girl. Also, her father had died long ago and her mother perished giving birth to her only daughter, leaving just her elderly Aunt to bring her up. Her Aunt had never been married and was always very wary of the male of the species, declining even to speak to them if she could help it. Thus Bella had led a very sheltered life, and although she was now just turned eighteen years old, she had never really got to know any boys, even though they sometimes came to her market stall and tried to engage the pretty, young girl in conversation.

Bella wondered if the boy on the horse would return, and if so, what should she do? With her dear Aunt now gone, she sometimes felt lonely in this quiet, little cottage all on her own for days on end. She wondered what it would be like to be friends with a boy, and to spend time getting to know them. She thought it might be quite nice, in spite of her Aunt's obvious misgivings.

Bella undressed, replacing her dress with a short, summer slip. As she slid under the thin blanket on the small bed in the corner of her cottage, she thought further about the boy. She wondered if he had really been handsome, and thought he certainly was. She felt the small, pink buds on her soft breasts just begin to perk up. She was far from tired after her long nap in the sun, and she tossed restlessly in her bed. Eventually, she just had to caress her swelling nipples, and soon she was pulling them far out from her breasts as they hardened in her sweaty fingers. Bella next squeezed her aching boobs, rubbing her hands and fingers hard over their shiny surface. She liked how that felt and she moaned quietly to herself. She felt a tickling sensation between her legs, so she rubbed her thighs together, and she could feel her face burning red, and not just from the effects of the sun. Her right hand reached down and rubbed her crotch, feeling the dampness there. A finger wriggled its way between her sex lips and up into the entrance of her love channel. She groaned louder now, experiencing new sensations that she did not think were possible. She ferreted around with her finger until she found a spot that just begged to be touched, and she rubbed at it hard, squealing and writhing on her sweat soaked bedclothes. Her breathing grew faster and her heart beat harder in her chest as she unwittingly brought herself to arousal. She groaned louder and arched her back, thrusting her breasts and crotch upwards. Suddenly, it was over and Bella sighed deeply. She turned over onto her side and drifted into a fitful sleep, her mind unsure of what had just happened, and whether or not it had been good.

The next morning Bella felt a little strange. Her bedclothes and night-dress were damp and her body felt dirty. She remembered the events of the previous afternoon and evening, and felt somewhat ashamed, and pleased that her Aunt was no longer around to ask her any awkward questions. She was sure the kind, but strict, old lady would not have approved!

Bella washed herself thoroughly that morning, and she also washed her bedclothes and night dress and hung them on the line to dry; it looked to be set fair again for another beautiful day.

As she combed out the tangles in her dark, lustrous hair, Bella smiled when she saw the effects of her sunbathing on her face. As she had expected, her freckles were in full bloom, especially on her forehead and around her little nose. Both were also rather red and tender from the sun's rays and Bella gently rubbed a soothing lotion into her face – one of her Aunt's special recipes designed to relieve burns.

As she looked at herself, Bella wondered if she was pretty. The boys in the village had always taken a lot of interest in her, and some of their fathers also seemed to enjoy talking to her about all sorts of strange subjects, when she was selling her wares in the market. Sometimes they seemed to buy her potions when they did not really need them. She seemed to sell more in the summer, when the clothes she wore fitted tighter and showed off more of her body. She had noticed that particularly in the year just passed. She wondered if that was because her bosom had grown so much since the previous year; some of the men seemed to look more at her chest than at her face. She always smiled sweetly at them, bowing her head a little and peeping at them from under her bonnet. She took their money, not that she charged very much, and was thankful for their custom.

Now that smart dressed young man from the day before had also seemed to take an interest in her. She wondered if he found her attractive. She certainly thought he was handsome; he looked quite strong and athletic and he had a confident manner about him; probably the result of a sound upbringing. Still, a boy of that breeding would never think seriously about a common girl like her. Oh well, better get ready to walk to the village; today's market day and there's potions to sell.

Bella set off with her large basket of potions and lotions to sell. She added a few bottles of the soothing liquid she had used herself, hoping that others might have also caught the sun. The walk to the village was quite long, about five miles, but Bella was used to it. She skipped along, stopping every few minutes to smell the gorgeous scent of a pretty roadside flower or to simply breathe in deeply the clear, warm air of this lovely Spring morning. Occasionally Bella would pick a delicate bloom that caught her eye and she wove it into her long hair, so by the time she reached the village she wore a beautiful halo of flowers in a rainbow of colours. She was in very high spirits as she sat in her usual spot in the market place and displayed her wares in front of her and waited for customers.

Bella had a great day, selling more stock than she had ever managed before. It seemed as if the entire village wanted a lotion for this or a pick-me-up for that, and Bella had a steady stream of eager customers all morning. Many told her how pretty she looked, with her rosy cheeks and her beautiful hair. A couple of young men brought her freshly picked flowers and delighted in adding them to the blooms in her hair, running their sweaty fingers through her lovely, long locks. One brash boy even ran up carrying a long stem with a gorgeous deep red rose and presented it to a blushing Bella. She smiled sweetly, as she always did, thrilled at the attention she was attracting, as the boy cheekily placed the prickly stem in her cleavage and pushed it down until just the luscious red rosette was visible between the tops of her smooth, milky breasts. The stem scratched a little, but Bella hardly noticed as she sold the remainder of the wares she had brought with her. She only regretted not having brought more, as she was sure she would have been able to sell them.

Just after lunch Bella packed up and bought herself a few provisions from the proceeds of her sales. She jaunted off back home with a happy heart. Her only disappointment was that the handsome young man from yesterday had not come to the market. Oh well, maybe next week.

When she arrived home Bella went into her cottage and opened all the windows to let the clean, fresh air in. She took off her bonnet and carefully removed the lovely rose from between her breasts. She noticed a few light scratches on her skin, and she saw that her chest was also now burnt a bright crimson. After she had put the rose stem in a vase she rubbed some soothing lotion on her chest. It felt good, very good, and Bella soon found herself rubbing the lotion on the soft, pale skin of her breasts too. Her pink nipples hardened, just as they had the previous night and she felt an urgent need to rub her sex. She remembered what she had done in her bed the evening before, and suddenly felt ashamed of herself. What would her Aunt have said?

Bella removed her hands from under the top of her summer dress. She massaged more lotion into her burning cheeks and wiped her hands on a cloth. “Come on Bella,” she told herself. “This is doing no good. You need to pick and prepare more herbs if you're going to have anything to sell next week.”

And so the pretty, little herb girl got back to work, but the memories of the feelings she had felt over the past two days would not leave her thoughts for long, and nor would her desire to find out more about that handsome boy on his jet black horse.

For the next week, Bella worked hard to build up her stocks before market day. Her urges to rub her breasts and finger her sex had abated, and she knew from her Aunt's teaching that the change was due to her monthly woman's cycle. She also knew that the desire was therefore bound to return. The weather also changed, as it often did in spring, with the warm, bright sunshine replaced by more changeable weather with occasional heavy rainstorms. Still, this would make the herbs grow fast and strong.

Thus it was a more subdued girl that carried her full basket to the market. And yet, in spite of the showers, Bella still attracted a good number of mostly male customers. She smiled and chatted shyly as they bought her potions and creams, explaining patiently how they would heal scratches or soothe a tickly throat. She was sure she had told them all this before, but for some reason they seemed to like her to explain it all again, week after week. Then, after a while, Bella saw a young girl of about her own age approach her looking very angry. She recognised the fine, golden hair and pretty features of the village girl. Her name was Jane, she remembered, as she wondered what was vexing the girl so.

“Oi, you,” the girl called loudly as she stood in front of the pretty, young herb-seller. “What do you think you're doing?”

Bella was surprised and upset. She had never been shouted at like that before in her life, and she had no idea why this girl seemed to be so angry with her.

“I, I, I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean,” stammered Bella shyly, her face bright red with embarrassment.

“Keep your filthy hands away from my man,” shouted the girl, as an interested crowd gathered to witness the commotion. “You've bewitched him with your poison. I saw him give you that rose last week. It's me he should be giving flowers to – we're due to be wed. Keep away from him, do you hear, you little witch.”

“I, I, I'm sorry,” repeated a sobbing Bella. “I didn't mean to do anything wrong. Please, please forgive me.”

With that, Bella picked up her basket and ran as fast as she could away from the village. She was still crying as she finally slowed to a walk over a mile from the market place. She sat down on the ground and sobbed, her flushing face in her hands. She hadn't meant to cause Jane to be so angry. She hadn't known that boy was betrothed to her. She hadn't asked him to give her that rose. What was she to do? How was she to return to the market after causing such a scene? And yet she had to, as selling her wares was her only means of supporting herself. “Oh dear, what an awful muddle I've got myself in,” thought the distraught girl.

Eventually Bella got to her feet, dried her eyes and finished the long walk home. She still hadn't decided what she should do. Oh, how she wished her Aunt was still there, she'd be sure to know.

Bella cried herself to sleep, frightened for the first time in her short life.

The next morning was beautiful. Bright sunshine filtered invitingly through the window, bathing Bella's bed with golden light. Bella, however, was still sad. She had not been able to sleep much, still being worried sick about her argument with Jane the previous day. She lay in bed, re-living the altercation over and over again in her mind, wondering if she should have foreseen the conflict and refused the present of the rose. She blamed herself, but still could not decide what to do to make things better.

The next week dragged by interminably as Bella struggled to work out how she could possibly return to the village for the next market day. She picked and dried few herbs, finding it impossible to concentrate for any length of time. She would suddenly burst into tears as the worry overtook her, and she could rarely force herself to eat anything.

The night before the next market day she sat in her bed, determined to make her mind up at last. She knew she had only one option; to take her wares as usual to the market and hope Jane didn't make another scene. If Jane did shout at her again, she would have to tell her once more that she had not meant to upset her. But this time, she would not run away.

Bella tossed and turned all night, hearing every screech of an owl, every howl of a fox, even the scurrying of hedgehogs outside her door.

She was up at dawn the next morning and gathered her wares together. She dressed more modestly than the previous weeks, with a dark green dress buttoned to her neck replacing her lighter summer frock. She set off for the village with gritted teeth, determined to see out this first crisis of her young life.

Bella set up her wares and sat and waited anxiously to see what reaction the previous week's events would have. She was worried. Jane lived in the village and may well have used the last week to badmouth her. She wondered if she'd have any customers at all, or perhaps even worse, the villagers would turn against her. What could she do if that happened? She had lived here for as long as she could remember, and had nowhere else to go.

For an hour Bella sat waiting for her first customer. The market was especially quiet today, and many stallholders were getting impatient at the lack of action. Bella wondered if they were blaming her for keeping the villagers away.

At last one of her regulars came up to her. Bella managed a weak smile as she approached her.

“Hello Bella, how are you today?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“You look a little tired, dear. I hope you're not fretting about that silly girl, Jane.”

“I really didn't mean to upset her. I'm really sorry for all the fuss I caused.”

“Don't worry, dear. That boy of hers has always fancied himself with the girls. You're not the only one he's tried it on with. Don't take any notice. It'll all be forgotten, quick as a flash.”

Bella felt much better when she heard these kind words. She readily sold a bottle of hay fever remedy to her friendly customer, giving her a generous discount.

The market started buzzing as villagers finally came to shop, and Bella found all her usual customers as friendly as normal, though no boys plied her with flowers that day. She looked on anxiously as Jane appeared at a nearby stall, and their eyes met fleetingly. Jane scowled and turned away, busying herself buying bread and goats' cheese.

It was a much more contented Bella that walked pensively home that evening. How silly she had been, worrying all night. She must learn not to be so sensitive.

After her best night's sleep for a week, Bella got to work in her herb garden with renewed energy the next morning. As she placed some leaves out to dry in front of her cottage, she heard the sound of a horse coming along the lane. This was very unusual in the quiet, narrow lane outside her cottage, and Bella looked intently to see who was coming. Her heart beat faster as she remembered her handsome young admirer on his horse a few weeks ago. Could it possibly be him?

The large black stallion trotted into view. Bella gasped when she saw it. Then she saw the rider. It was him!

The horse stopped at the gate to Bella's cottage and the young man doffed his hat politely. “Good morning. Beautiful day again.”

Bella could not find the words to reply, and stood motionless for a few seconds, mouth gaping, staring at the fine clothes, the tall hat and the handsome, youthful face. Finally she curtsied awkwardly, almost falling over her tangled feet. “Good morning, sir,” she mumbled eventually.

With a click of his heels, the rider turned his jet black mount and rode back the way he had come. Bella was bemused and stood watching the horse and rider disappear as if they had been an apparition.

For the rest of the day Bella could not stop thinking about that handsome young man. Why had he come to her cottage? Why had he gone again so quickly? Would he come back? If so, when? And who an earth was he?

That night Bella again found herself pleasuring her tits and sex with her hands, moaning her arousal as she saw her horse riding admirer in her mind's eye. This time it took her much longer before she was spent and could finally roll over and go to sleep.

The next market day Bella plucked up the courage and asked about this handsome young man on a jet black stallion.

“That will be the son of the new Duke. He's just moved into the Grand Hall about twenty miles west of the village. They say he won it in a duel. Shot the other poor guy right between the eyes after a row during a card game. Not a man you want to cross, Bella. Don't know much about the son, though, except that he rides a large black stallion.”

A shiver ran up Bella's spine when she heard this news. The Duke's son. That was serious nobility. Way out of Bella's league. Nevertheless, she just couldn't get the vision of him out of her head.

The next weeks passed uneventfully as Bella got back into her stride. The weather stayed mostly warm and sunny and Bella's products continued to sell well, especially her summer cold remedies and sunburn lotion. Bella had taken to having an afternoon nap in the sun on her Aunt's old rocking chair, just as she had all those weeks ago.

As she dozed Bella heard the clip-clop of horses' hooves as she re-lived that day in her sweet dreams. She let out a low snore, more like a contented sigh, that woke her up with a start. She looked around and saw the large black stallion at her gate. But where was the rider?

Bella jumped up from the rocking chair and heard a soft laugh behind her. She sprang round to find herself face to face with her handsome young man – the Duke's son. He was holding a huge bunch of flowers, which he thrust towards her.

“Beautiful girl. These flowers are the prettiest in the woods, but even they are nothing when compared to your exquisite beauty. Pray tell me your name, sweet girl.”

Bella almost fainted away. She had never heard words spoken so eloquently before, nor had she been given such lovely compliments. And from the Duke's son, too!

She blushed furiously. Then fell to her knees in servitude, not knowing what else to do in the face of such a high ranking gentleman. “Thank you, sir,” she mumbled, her head down, as she took the flowers. “You're very kind.”

“Please, get up. You still haven't told me your name.”

“Bella, sir.”

“Bella. A name of beauty for a beautifil girl. It suits you so well.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Bella politely, at last looking up at the handsome young man.

He cupped her chin in his hand and gently urged her to her feet. He looked into her dazzling, green eyes and found his mind swimming. He loved her dainty features, her blushing cheeks with their pretty, girly freckles. He adored her mouth, slightly open, just as he remembered it. He kissed her, locking her lips to his as he sucked the breath from her lungs. His arms encircled her slim body, pulling her into his broad chest.

Bella dropped her flowers and hugged her admirer back. She had never been kissed before and didn't really know what to do. She felt his tongue inside her mouth, flitting about her pearly teeth, so she reciprocated by darting her own pink tongue between his open jaws. She found she couldn't breathe, but quickly learnt to free her squashed nasal passages.

Their lips still solidly locked, he moved his right hand to her chest and squeezed her soft, left breast. Bella moaned at the sensation, finding his touch much more stimulating than her own clumsy self-gratification, even through the material of her dress. Her nipples hardened immediately, and he noticed, gently pinching the hard bud through the cloth with his thumb and forefinger.

He released her lips and led her through the door of her cottage. Once inside he guided her to her bed in the far corner and lay her down on her back. She looked up at him, still a little bewildered, but enchanted by this handsome figure with his unerring, charming confidence.

He lay on top of her and carefully removed her pretty bonnet. He untied the wide cotton band that held her hair and let it flow across her shoulders, running his fingers slowly through her long, lustrous tresses and breathing in the pure scent of her lightly perfumed locks. He started kissing her again as she held him to her. His hands pulled next at the laces covering her chest, deftly untying the knot and pulling at the string. He loosened her dress a little and forced his hand between the laces to feel the warm, silky smooth skin below. His hand searched out her breast and found it quickly. His fingers flitted over the round surface of her tit and felt for her stiff, rubbery nipple. She moaned much louder now, her lips freed of his as he scattered kisses over her slim, sculptured neck.

Bella was in dreamland. She lay there under the spell of this handsome nobleman, wanting for all the world to please him, but not really knowing how to. She panted as her body felt like it was on fire, and only he could put that fire out.

He kissed her chest, pulling again at her dress to loosen it so she could pull it off. He just had to see her beautiful body naked. He was sure it was the most magical sight a man could ever see. He smiled down at her, his face glowing in unbounded lust.

Suddenly there was an almighty crash as the door flew open.

“Father!” exclaimed the startled boy. Bella screamed.

“Get out and go home,” shouted the large, red-faced man.

The boy left Bella lying on her bed and scampered out of the door, ducking a swinging cuff as he did. The Duke glared at her in sheer hatred for some seconds before turning and leaving. Bella covered her chest with her hands, trembling in fear, her body overdosing on adrenaline. “What's happening?” she asked herself. “And what's going to happen to me now?”

Chapter 2 – The Long Ride

Four large, liveried men entered Bella's tiny cottage. They grabbed the shivering girl by the arms and dragged her unceremoniously to her feet. In a moment she found her hands bound in front of her with harsh twine and she was led outside. There was no sign of the boy, or of the Duke. There were just four large horses waiting patiently in the narrow lane. Three of the men mounted up, then the fourth hoisted Bella's slight frame by her tiny waist onto one rider's horse, just in front of the saddle. Her head was tipped forward over the horse's neck until her tummy ground into the course hair of its dark mane. Bella raised her head and looked tearfully back at her lovely little cottage. She wondered if she would ever see it again. The horsemen clicked their tongues and all four started off down the lane, with their weeping passenger carried along with them like a sack of potatoes.

Bella was distraught. She was embarrassed at being found with the boy, but mostly she was frightened. These strange men had not harmed her, but she had been tied up for the first time in her life and was now being taken away against her will from her cottage, the only home she had ever known. The boy's father had obviously been angry, and she knew from his reputation that he could be violent. What did he intend to do with her? She could not begin to think about it.

As the horsemen increased their pace, Bella found herself jiggling up and down with her full weight on her tiny tummy. She soon started to feel sick and she moaned loudly as she tried to keep from vomiting. Her reward was a sharp spank on her round behind accompanied with a spitting rebuke. “Shut up, girl. Or next time I'll use my whip.”

Bella cried fresh tears. Although the spank had not been very hard, and had not really hurt her, she had never been so much as smacked before in her young life, and the assault shocked and frightened her. She redoubled her efforts to stop being sick lest it anger the man even more. She managed to wipe her eyes with her bound hands and tried to look to see where they were going, but she did not recognise the hills and fields through which they were passing. She was sure she had never been along this road before. Where, oh where, were they taking her?

Bella felt sweat seeping from her pores as the horses trotted on. She didn't know if it was the still-hot sunshine, the recent close attentions of the boy, or her fear of what would become of her that was causing the perspiration. She wished she had some of her scented perfume which she used to cool herself at times like this, and which would prevent the rather musty smell that was now emanating from her damp armpits. She tried to relax, to calm herself down, but found it impossible with the rhythmic trotting of the horse keeping her forever on the move, and the knowledge that with every step she was being taken further away from the safety of her lovely home.

Dusk was falling and the riders had still not reached their destination. Bella felt very tired now. The stressful events of the afternoon had worn her out, and she lay unmoving across the huge horse, dirty now from the dust that had been kicked up and was sticking to her sweaty face and clothes.

Eventually the horses stopped and Bella stirred. She looked up to see a huge building, the like of which she had never seen before. The horsemen were at a large double wrought iron gate much higher than the tallest horse. On each side led a high stone wall, but through the gate Bella could make out biggest house she had ever seen. She could see the huge front door and more windows than she could count, on three floors with many more in the towers at each end of the facade. This must be the Grand Hall her friend had told her about; the new home of the Duke, whose men had brought her here.

After a very brief conversation with the guards at the gates, the riders continued through into the grounds. As they got closer to the main building, Bella became even more aware of its size, and the innocent, little peasant girl found herself even more intimidated by these strange and foreboding surroundings.

Rather than go to the front door, the riders veered to the left and passed to the side of the house. Bella peered into the gloom to make out where they were going. She saw that the main house was actually square, with the side as long as the building on the front. At the end, in the next corner, was another high tower, and she surmised that the house had similar towers in all four corners, maybe with a courtyard in the middle. She had seen buildings with a similar layout at the richest farms closer to the village, though none on anything like this grand scale.

As they passed the tower at the far end of the left side, Bella saw that the grounds behind the hall were enormous, with much more land than out the front. She could not see the wall that bounded the property at the far end, it was so far away, but she could make out a formal garden with rows of neatly trimmed bushes and perfect hedges dividing rose gardens from grassy lawns. In the grounds were a number of buildings, and the horses headed to one; a single story outhouse that looked like a stable block.

As they rode closer, Bella could see she was right, and it was a stable block. There must have been over twenty stalls in the row. Without saying anything to her, one of the riders dismounted and pulled Bella off her horse. Handling the tired, frightened girl easily he pushed her into an open stable door and followed her inside. In the near darkness Bella could see the stall was empty, save for a covering of straw on the floor. The rider took the shivering girl to the back of the stall and untied her bound hands, before re-tying them behind her back. He then reached for a long leather leash and tied this to the twine between her wrists. Then, still without a word, he left the stall and closed the door. Bella heard a heavy bolt being drawn across the outside of the door, followed by the sound of a key being turned.

The shocked girl blinked in the pitch dark, and eventually became able to see a few shadows in her horsy prison. She could hear the whinnying of horses nearby, and a few muffled voices as the riders handed their mounts to stable lads to be rubbed down for the night. She pulled at her leash, but found it very tightly tied to a hook high up in the wall at the back of the stall. She tried its length and found it long enough to allow her to sit or lie in the straw but not to reach the bolted door. She sighed. She was tired, thirsty and hungry, and very, very scared. Although she was now used to sleeping alone, and the sounds of the night rarely frightened her, this was different. This was not her familiar, little cottage but a strange stable far from home, where she was surrounded by people she did not know and who might well wish her harm. She just managed to resist bursting out in fresh, sobbing tears.

Bella kicked together a bed of straw in the back corner of her stall and lay down as best she could with her bound hands. In spite of her fear, she soon fell asleep, her uneasy dreams occasionally disturbed by mice scampering through the straw or the sounds of a restless horse.

Chapter 3 – The Welcome

Bella awoke at the first light of dawn. She sat up stiffly and tried to relieve the aching in her shoulders with some mild exercising. Eventually she knelt and then stood up to look over her stall more thoroughly than she had been able to the previous evening. To her surprise and relief she found a bucket of water in one corner of the stall and with a little effort she was able to dip her head into it and slurp a little into her parched mouth. It tasted pretty foul but was better than nothing.

She walked around her prison as far as her leash would allow and wondered what was going to happen to her today. Perhaps the Duke would tell her to leave her son alone and then release her. She hoped they would give her good directions back to her cottage, or the village, or she would never find her way. But nothing happened for hours. She heard the sounds of horses trotting from nearly stalls and the voices of stable boys talking to each other and to the horses, but the door to her stall remained firmly shut. She became more anxious as every hour passed, and more hungry. She needed to wash, and worse, she needed to pee, but had nowhere to do it.

The morning came and went and still Bella had no visitors. She began to think the Duke had forgotten about her, but she dared not shout out for fear of angering him. The short glimpse of his crimson face in her cottage had been more than enough to make her scared of him for the rest of her life.

Just as the sun began to set, Bella's thoughts were disturbed by the sound of the lock being turned and soon a shaft of evening sunlight entered her stall for the first time in almost a whole day. Bella blinked and looked intently at the open door.

A man appeared, dressed in the same livery as the riders from the previous day, but she did not recognise him as being one of them. He carried a knob of bread and a pitcher of water.

“Well, girl. What a sorry state you've got yourself into,” he said almost jovially.

Bella smiled shyly. “I'm sorry, sir,” she said quietly.

“No point being sorry now, girl. Besides, it's not me you need to fear.” He untied Bella's wrists and handed her the bread and water. “You've got five minutes before I tie you up again for the night.”

Bella gulped down some water and prised a chunk of bread from the stale knob. She chewed it quickly and swallowed as mush as she could. It almost stuck in her tight throat and made her feel sick. After just a couple of mouthfuls she had had enough and politely handed the rest back to the man. She finished her water and handed over the pitcher.

“Thank you,” said Bella. “Please, sir, I need to pee now.”

The man laughed. “Well go on then, girl. What's wrong, the straw not to you liking?”

Bella blushed furiously. “I'll do it later, thanks.”

The man tied Bella's wrists together again and attached the leash as before. He turned to go.

“Please, sir,” asked the girl plaintively. “What's going to happen to me?”

The man turned around and looked at the tiny, shivering, pleading girl, tied up in this stable stall.

“That's up to the Duke, girl,” he said rather sadly, and left.

In a few moments the stall was dark again and Bella tried to find a spot to pee in, where it would not dirty her bed. Finally she crouched down and awkwardly pulled her drawers down around her ankles. She deposited a thin stream of steaming pee into the corner of her stall and wiped her bum with some straw, which she then dropped over the small puddle.

Bella replaced her drawers and curled up on her bed for another fitful night's sleep, accompanied only by the scratching of the mice and the neighing of the horses.

The next day passed, exactly as the first, and then the next and the next. For four days Bella stayed in the dark confines of her small stall. She saw only the one man, at the same time every day. He gave her stale bread and fresh water. After that first day they did not even talk, but merely exchanged glances.

Bella became more self-conscious as the days wore on. Her stall was smelling worse every day, and so was she! She had to pee every day in the same corner, and eventually, when she could hold it in no longer, she had to add her shit. She wiped her bum as best she could, but after that she never seemed able to get away from the horrible smell.

The flies liked her filth and soon found their way into her stall in large numbers, laying their tiny maggots, which grew quickly and infested the floor of her stall, crawling over her skin while she slept.

By the afternoon of the fifth day Bella looked and felt bedraggled. She sat in the soiled straw, huddled in a ball but with her hands still uselessly tied behind her, unable to clean herself or even brush off the flies and maggots. Her long hair was lank and matted, her face smeared in dirt and her clothes stained and dishevelled. The laces at the front of her dress were still undone from the boy's fumblings all those days before, revealing the dirty, sweaty, pale skin of her lovely chest.

It was this dirty, smelly, young girl that was eventually released from her leash, only to find her wrists and ankles then encased in hard, iron cuffs joined by short lengths of heavy chain. A third chain joined the centres of the wrist and ankle chains. Bella found walking difficult and painful as she hobbled across the grounds surrounded by four sturdy guards dressed in the Dule's livery. They led her into the Grand Hall by a side door.

Chapter 4 – Denounced

As Bella was guided through the oak panelled corridors she marvelled at the fine carpentry and plasterwork that decorated this building – certainly the most impressive home she had ever been in.

After a while she was shown into a large hall, with a minstrels' gallery at one end; surely a ballroom. Bella had heard her Aunt talk of such places where the rich nobility danced and played.

Bella was walked up towards a long table, behind which sat three men. She bowed her head in deference as she approached. She saw on the right a scribe, already with his head down, writing furiously with a long quill. On the left sat a pensive man clasping his fingers together and eyeing her intently. In the middle was a grandly dressed man wearing a black, hooded cloak. He was reading from a large scroll.

The man in the middle looked up at Bella briefly.

“Is this the girl?” he asked, turning to his right, where Bella saw the Duke standing in the shadows.

“Yes. That's the one.”

“Very well. You may go now, your Lordship. Thank you.” The Duke left the ballroom.

Addressing Bella, he then declared, “You have been denounced as a witch by the Duke. How say you, girl?”

Bella was startled. She didn't know what to say.

“Well, girl. Do you admit you are a witch?”

Bella's brain clicked around as she began to understand her plight.

“No, sir. No. The Duke… The Duke… The Duke's wrong, sir. I am not a witch,” she spat out eventually. The scribe scribbled enthusiastically and then looked up at the girl for the first time. He smiled.

“Very well. We'll soon see. Take her away.”

Bella was turned and escorted back out of the ballroom. They passed along a number of corridors until they met a spiral staircase made of stone. They started climbing, up one of the corner towers, thought Bella. She struggled sometimes in her chains on the narrow, tight stairs, but her guards ensured she didn't fall, treating her quite gently. At last they reached a heavy wooden door and Bella at last plucked up the courage to ask, “Please, sirs. What's going to happen to me?”

Nobody answered as the door was unlocked and Bella was pushed firmly inside.

She looked around her. The room was large and square, taking up the whole of the top floor of the tower, with small arrow slit windows on all sides. Thus, it was quite dark, with only narrow shafts of evening sunlight filtering in. There were many glowing torches to augment the meagre natural light, and these cast dancing shadows around the room. There were a lot of thick, stone pillars in the room and Bella looked up to see how they supported the ornate, vaulted ceiling. She marvelled again at the superb craftsmanship.

There was a long table in front of her, very similar to the one downstairs, but there was no other furniture that Bella could make out in the shadows. She sniffed and wrinkled up her nose at the awful pong from her own body. God, how she wanted to wash!

As she waited, Bella thought more about what the man had asked her downstairs. Of course she wasn't a witch. Why did the Duke say she was? She knew he was angry at finding his son with her, but he had come to her cottage three times of his own free will. She had not put a spell on him. She didn't know how to. She felt guilty telling that man that the Duke had been wrong – it was not the done thing for a peasant girl to say such a thing – but she was pleased she had told him. Maybe now she would be able to explain further what had happened and get back to her lovely, little cottage. My, how she missed it.

She shivered as she remembered her dear old Aunt's tales of witch burnings. How, in days gone by and in places far from their friendly village, girls were accused of witchcraft and burned alive at the stake. Of course, she didn't know if the tales were true, her Aunt could be quite fanciful sometimes.

Then she remembered what Jane had said to her when they rowed in the market place. She had also called her a witch because her betrothed had given her a rose. But again, she had not asked for his attention.

“Oh dear,” thought Bella. “Does it mean I'm a witch just because boys like me. I don't want to be burnt alive. Oh God, I wish I had someone here to help me.”

Bella had really frightened herself. Her bottom lip quivered. She looked about her, but the only people in the room were her four guards, each staring impassively in front of her. They would not help her and there was no means of escape. They were all positioned in front of the only door, and even she wasn't skinny enough to slip through a window, even if she could rid herself of these heavy chains. What was she to do?

Chapter 5 – Searching

The door opened, shattering Bella's thoughts. The three men from downstairs entered. The scribe sat behind the desk and unfurled his scroll, immediately writing a fresh entry.

Bella's questioner from the ballroom approached the downcast girl.

“Well, girl. Do you still deny the Duke's denouncement?”

“No, sir… I mean yes, sir. I mean I'm not a witch, sir. The Duke's son…”

“Enough! How dare you doubt the word of a nobleman of the Duke's standing! A low, vile peasant girl like you! I am the Grand Inquisitor and I will discover the truth. The Devil is within your body and it is my Godly duty to root him out. And that is what I shall do, have no fear of that!”

Bella trembled at his harsh words. Fear was exactly what she did have, and lots of it! She fell to her knees, “Please, sir, I beg of you…” She grabbed the hem of his cloak in supplication.

“Get this vile creature off me!” he screamed at the guards. They grabbed Bella's arms and hauled her back to her feet. She was sobbing helplessly. Would nobody stand up for her?

“You will be put to the question, vile witch,” he spat at Bella. “But first I must seek out the Devil's mark on your filthy, sluttish body.”

“Strip the witch!” he yelled dramatically to the guards.

Bella stared wide-eyed as the guards surrounded her. They removed her chains as Bella pleaded with them. “No, please sirs, no. You can't make me naked. No man has ever seen me naked. I don't want to be naked. Please. Please, somebody help me. I'm not a witch!”

Ignoring her, the guards ripped and pulled at her stained dress. One tore away the remaining laces from the front, ripping her light, summer dress to the waist and gradually revealing the inner curves of her smooth skinned breasts. She fought them off, slapping weakly at their hands, but they ignored her puny resistance. She cried as another guard ripped the back off her dress, baring her slim body down to the lovely curve of her hips. He pulled again and the dress gave way, showing her soiled drawers and tight, round bottom globes beneath. Meanwhile, at her front, a guard pulled her tattered dress from her shoulders and the dirty remains fell to the floor around her feet. She quickly covered her bare breasts with her trembling hands as tears coursed down her pretty, crimson face.

Another tug from behind easily removed her drawers and they joined her dress on the floor, leaving Bella in only her ankle socks and shoes. She darted one hand to cover her sex as she tried to fall to the floor and curl in a ball. The guards however were quick to notice and grabbed her arms to hold her upright. Finally they removed her shoes and socks one leg at a time to leave her completely naked.

Bella was beside herself, shuddering in fear and embarrassment at being nude in front of all these strange men. She cried, her chin pressing hard against her chest, as the guards held her in front of the Grand Inquisitor.

He had watched her stripping with great interest. When he had first seen her downstairs in the ballroom he had noticed her smooth, youthful, pale skin, even under the dirt and grime that covered her. He had seen her lovely figure; he liked slim girls, but she also had reasonably sized tits, with good shape to them. Her arse was well rounded and her legs were long and slim. Yes, she looked like a good prospect, though her fiery, green eyes made him a little wary. Still, any feistiness might make her examination and questioning even more enjoyable, for him at least. And most of all, he noticed the cute freckles on her face and the top of her chest. Excellent. Freckles made good targets for his needle when he searched out the Devil's mark.

He had closely observed her stripping, delighting as he saw how her freckles descended across her shoulders and down her chest right into the valley between her heaving tits. He wondered how far they cascaded down her slim back, hoping they went all the way to her pert bottom cheeks. He felt his cock twitch under his voluminous cloak.

“The Devil is within you, girl. I can feel him.”

“No. No, sir. I know nothing of the Devil,” sobbed the petrified girl.

“That is him speaking now, making you deny the truth. Never fear, I will root him out.”

“No. No, sir. He is not within me.”

“He has a strong presence in you, girl. Releasing you from his grip will be difficult and painful. I must begin right away.”

Bella looked up eventually at the hooded man in front of her. She could not see his face, but saw his fingers tapping together impatiently.

“First, I must find the Devil's mark. He will have been sure to hide it well, but I will be ruthless in my quest to dig it out.”

He motioned to the guards. “Prepare the witch for examination.”

Bella screamed as the guards grabbed her wrists and twisted them away from their positions covering her breasts and sex. She felt a cold draught between her legs as she was exposed for the first time ever to the gaze of a man.

The guards dragged the sobbing girl to the centre of the room, between two thick, stone pillars. They raised her arms and trapped her wrists in iron cuffs hanging from chains at the top of each pillar. When both wrists were fastened, a guard pulled down on each chain, pulling her wrists up and out towards the pillars. Bella felt the tension in her arms increase until she had to stand on tiptoe. Then the guards secured the chains, leaving the sobbing girl hanging with arms outspread.

Just when Bella thought it could get no worse, she felt the guards pulling her ankles wide apart. She screamed as her sex became even more exposed and all her weight was taken by her arms. The guards secured her ankles once they were four feet apart and withdrew after eyeing the spreadeagled beauty with her gorgeous, superbly exhibited body.

The guards were dismissed, leaving just the Grand Inquisitor, his assistant and his scribe in the room with their trembling victim.

The Grand Inquisitor had a good, long look at his lovely captive. Her downcast face was lovely; very pretty features and youthful, freckled skin whose beauty could not be disguised by the layer of dirt that was smeared over her. Now he could see them properly, he was even more pleased by the size and shape of her breasts, nicely displayed by her stretching bondage. Her nipples looked to be quite small, but he was sure he would be able to do something about that! He noted how several dark freckles had escaped the main batches and scattered around the front of her body. Wonderful!

Looking down at her newly revealed sex, he saw the unkempt forest on her mound. A mass of curly, black hairs; matted and a little damp from recent forced neglect, he supposed. That would have to go! How on earth was he expected to find the Devil's mark in that thick forest?

Her armpits were nearly as bad. It was obvious the young witch had never been taught the value of shaving! Oh well. That was a job for his apprentice tonight. She could also do with a wash, but that could wait until it was time for her fucking.

He moved slowly around the back of the terrified girl. Now out of her sight, he gave a relaxed smile as he saw at close quarters her smooth back with its muscles rippling in tension under her soft skin. He was right about her freckles, they did indeed flow down her back, gradually thinning out down the length of her spine. His needle would be doing overtime!

He looked at her twitching arse cheeks, and struggled to prevent his finger nudging into the crease and poking at the wrinkled opening he knew was hiding there. “I bet this witch is a virgin in all her holes,” he thought to himself as he smiled.

Finally he admired her tight hamstrings and slim calves before he returned to face the shivering girl once more.

The Grand Inquisitor stood calmly looking in the tear stained face of the sobbing girl. Although he was outwardly calm, he couldn't wait to get started on this delicious morsel and his rampant cock was reminding him of this every second.

“First I must search out the Devil's mark,” he reminded the girl. She looked at him puzzled, with no idea why, or how, he was going to do that. “I have never seen the Devil. I don't have his mark,” she blubbed. “Please let me go. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused to the Duke, and I'll never see his son again, I promise. Nothing happened between us, honestly. Please can I put my clothes back on and go home.” Her tightly spread body heaved as more heart-rending sobs blurted from her sweet, flushing face.

“Silence, witch!” commanded the Grand Inquisitor. He pulled his hand from his deep pocket and showed Bella his witchfinder's awl. He held the long, thin, needle by its slim, wooden handle before her face. Bella's eyes widened in horror; what an awful instrument. Its fine, sharp point glinted in the flickering torchlight.

“The Devil will have left his mark somewhere on your witch's body. It may be well hidden, deep in the most private folds of your flesh, or he may have cunningly placed it in the open to try and deceive me. Do not fear, child, I will find it. I will prick the places I feel are suspect with my holy needle. I will know when I have found the mark when no blood flows and no pain is felt. Sometimes the Devil is clever, and will call out from your mouth when I touch his mark. Thus I will blindfold you so he cannot know where my holy needle will next seek him out. Be assured, girl, that I will find his mark on your body, no matter how long it takes.”

Bella nearly fainted in fear as the Grand Inquisitor's assistant bound a black cloth over her tear-filled eyes. She shook her head violently from side to side. “No. Please. No. Please. Let me go. I'm not a witch,” she beseeched.

The Grand Inquisitor walked twice round his pleading, thrashing victim. With all these freckles on her luscious skin, he didn't quite know where to start.

He ran his hand across her shuddering shoulders, feeling the twitching muscles in the top of her back. Literally hundreds of different sized and shaped freckles covered her there, some very light and others almost black, with the full range in between. His hand followed the course of her curved spine, right down to the top of her bum cleavage. He kept going, down her smooth, round buttocks and then up her crotch towards her hairy cunt. Bella screamed at that touch. Nobody had ever touched her there, and now this horrible man who was going to hurt her with his awful needle was fondling her most private parts!

He moved now to the front and cupped her perky breasts, weighing the firm globes in his hands appreciatively and examining the most sensitive skin of their smooth undersides. Again she screamed as he ran his thumbs over her soft nipples until they just started to respond. She thrashed her head more now and the Grand Inquisitor stepped back a little lest she accidentally floor him with a wild head butt. He saw she was sweating up more now; her neck and armpits being particularly damp. And he'd not even begun yet!

He nodded to his scribe who noted the time on his scroll, as he steadied the girl and finally placed the sharp tip of his holy needle into her right shoulder, just above her collar bone and in the centre of a dark freckle. He pricked her flesh slowly, very slowly, allowing the screaming girl to feel the progress of his needle every fraction of an inch as it pierced her twitching flesh. As her blood started seeping from around the needle, he pushed in further until he met her bone. He let the needle remain there for a few seconds and then withdrew it just as slowly, his ears ringing from the girl's shrill screams. A trickle of blood ran down just a few inches from the wound before it began to clot. That wasn't the Devil's mark. Oh well, plenty more to go.

He took a small pace to his left and gripped the writhing girl's right arm. He aimed at a dark freckle near her shoulder joint and prodded firmly, his sharp needle easily parting her pale skin right on his target. She squealed afresh and more blood oozed, and he pulled his needle out again.

Now he crouched directly in front of her as Bella pleaded her innocence again and begged to be allowed to go free. He placed his hand on her tummy and pinched a handful of flesh from near her dimpled belly button. He hovered the tip of his bloody needle over a freckle in her flesh and pushed, driving his needle deeper this time into the fattier flesh of her stomach. Blood covered his hand as she wailed in real pain this time. He kept pushing as more blood flowed and the wound grew bigger. The girl dribbled snot and drool over the Grand Inquisitor's hood and he scowled before extracting his needle and releasing the girl's bloodied flesh.

Bella wailed in misery as the Grand Inquisitor wiped his hood dry. He smiled to himself at the girl's reaction to pain; it was obvious she had never been hurt before, never beaten or whipped. He moved now to her back, where she would be unable to dribble on him. He swept her long, dark, dirty hair away from the back of her right shoulder and studied the beautiful, pale skin there. He picked his spot and pierced her flesh, pushing on until his needle struck her shoulder blade. Another thin trickle of blood followed her heart rending wails.

He moved on down her back, finding a large, dark freckle near her spine. He steadied her and pricked yet again as her back jolted even straighter in her tight bondage. More blood mixed with the sweat on her back and trickled slowly towards her round arse.

Keeping a watchful eye on her crotch area to see she didn't pee on him, the Grand Inquisitor knelt behind the girl and felt the inside of her left thigh. He loved a young girl's legs, especially when they were slender and well muscled like this one. She must do a lot of walking, he supposed. Or at least, she used to, he chuckled to himself. They always had plenty of flesh to prick before you met bones or vital organs, and the insides were often very sensitive and responsive. He ran his hand up and down, feeling her taught skin twitch under his touch as she waited for the painful prick. He looked up at her sex, just a few inches from his face. He would sample that virgin hole soon enough, he thought, and it's going to be great!

He returned to her lovely leg and selected a suitable spot right at the top of her thigh. The girl wriggled beautifully as she felt the point indent her skin and then she screeched as he slowly, oh so slowly, pushed it through the layers of her smooth, pale, sexy flesh, probing her delicious thigh until the full length of his needle was imbedded in her lovely leg. He was pleased she didn't pee on him, as others had done before, but that spared her no pain as he carefully pulled and pushed his needle in and out a few times, until her inner thigh was slick with her blood all the way down past her knee.

His cock was now aching terribly as he returned to face her. He saw her blindfold was wet with tears, but the young witch's sweet, agonised features failed to move him. He longed to prick a lovely tit, but would leave those tasty morsels for later. After all, he was in no rush to spoil his lovely captive; she was the only witch in the building!

Instead he pricked her left arm, near her elbow, and then her right calf, just below her knee, and then her freckled chest, right on her breastbone. For the next hour he picked his spots and pricked her skin until blood flowed and she wailed her pain. At the end of his hour he looked at his pretty, bleeding, sweating, exhausted captive. He had bloodied her everywhere except her lovely face, her perky breasts, her smooth, round arse cheeks and around her hairy genitals and armpits. He did not expect to easily find the Devil's mark on this delightful, young witch and he was quite content at the prospect of returning to his sexy victim again later.

His assistant removed her soaked blindfold.

“I have yet to find the Devil's mark, but will return on the morrow to continue my search,” he informed his scribe.

He issued some orders to his assistant and clerk and left the room. Two guards entered in his place and released Bella from her uncomfortable bondage. She collapsed on the floor and started rubbing her wounds, but there were so many of them, she didn't know where to start. Her sobbing continued; she had felt every one of the dozens of hideous pricks with that awful needle. Every single time, she had sensed the sharp point touch the surface of her skin and then felt the growing pain as it slipped slowly, inexorably through the layers of her flesh, sliding past more and more sensitive nerves until her sadistic torturer decided he had pricked her deeply enough. The dreadful memories stayed fresh in her mind as she tried to soothe each aching puncture wound that dotted her slim, pale body.

Her rest was short-lived as two guards picked the slight girl up by her arms and pulled her to a dark corner of the room. There Bella saw a sloping table with many restraints and the guards easily placed her on her back on the hard wooden surface. They pulled her arms above her head and fastened her wrists in iron cuffs just a few inches above the top of her head, allowing her elbows to bend at almost right angles. They pulled a long leather strap across her tummy to hold her in place and then spread her legs wide before fixing her ankles to the bottom corners of the table, leaving her legs stretched out straight and her hairy crotch obscenely open.

Bella cried and pleaded to the guards to release her and let her go, but they ignored her and left her tightly bound to the table as they disappeared out of the room.

Chapter 6 – The Night Shift

Bella looked around the room. She saw a younger man enter and speak earnestly with the Grand Inquisitor's assistant and clerk. Then the two left, leaving just the young man alone with the sobbing young girl.

He approached the bound, splayed girl with a youthful spring in his step. “Hello, girlie,” he greeted her enthusiastically. “Don't look so worried. I'm not going to 'urt you. I'm the Grand Inquisitor's number one apprentice. We've got all night together, so we might as well get along.”

“Please. I'm innocent, Please let me go,” pleaded Bella, watching the young man as he brought a number of torches over to better light the dark corner.

“Oh I can't do that, girlie. They'd 'ave me balls off.”

“What are you going to do? Please don't hurt me. I'm in agony.”

“I've told you, I'm not going to 'urt you.”

“They think I'm a witch. I'm not a witch, honest. It's all a big mistake. Please let me go.”

“I've told you, girlie. I can't do that.”

“What's going to happen to me?”

“Where 'ave you been all your life. Don't you know what 'appens to witches?”

“No. And besides, I've told you, I'm not a witch.”

“They burns witches at the stake, and that's what'll 'appen to you, girlie.”

“No! They can't do that. I'm innocent. I don't want to die like that. I'm too young. I've done nothing wrong. You've got to let me go. I've got to get away from here.” She struggled uselessly against her bonds, her heart racing at his dreadful prediction.

“Now settle down, girlie. You're spending the night 'ere with me. I've got to get rid of these 'orrible forests of hair on your body so as the Grand Inquisitor can find the Devil's mark. You calm down and it'll make my job easier, or I'll 'ave to firm up your bindings and that'll be more uncomfortable for you.”

The young man pulled up a chair next to Bella and sat down. Leaning over her, he then showed the girl his tweezers and grasped a wispy hair from her armpit and firmly pulled it out by the root. He placed it in a small jar. The act stung a little but was not really painful. “There, that wasn't so bad, was it, girlie. But there's lots more to do before we're finished.” He pulled the next hair out. “Phew, you don't 'alf stink, girlie. I guess they never let you clean yourself while you were locked in that stable.”

Bella snivelled as the apprentice pulled one hair after another from her sweaty right armpit. After about twenty minutes he left her side and returned with a pitcher and a cup. He poured a cupful of liquid and drank it down. Bella looked at him enviously; she was parched. Noticing, he offered a drink to Bella who gulped down the liquid gratefully, though quite a bit spilt down her chin and onto her chest below. After a few seconds, Bella began to feel very strange. She belched, and asked the boy what the liquid was.

“'Aven't you ever 'ad mead before, girlie?” he asked with a giggle.

“No,” replied Bella. “That's the drink of devils, my Aunt always told me.”

“That's rich coming from a witch.”

“I told you I'm not a witch. You do believe me, don't you?”

“What? Are you joking? The Duke has denounced you. Course you're a witch.”

“No I'm not. Honestly.”

“Come on, girlie. You were found with the Duke's son, just about to relieve the young gentleman of 'is noble virginity.”

“No. It was him. He came to me.”

“Yeah, after you bewitched 'im with your sweet smellin' 'erbs and potions. You think a man of 'is nobility would freely dally with the likes of you, girlie? No, if 'e fancied your charms, 'e could just 'ave you as a chambermaid and fuck you whenever 'e wanted, no questions asked. No way would 'e lower 'imself to get involved with a lowly peasant girl like you, girlie, no matter 'ow pretty you be.”

“But I didn't bewitch him. I did nothing. He just kept coming round to my cottage. He brought me lovely flowers. He said I was prettier than any of them.”

“There you are, girlie, you said it. 'E was besotted. You confused 'im with your potions, wafted 'em under 'is noble nose, I'll be bound. That cottage of yours was full of witches' evil doings; potions, lotions and remedies for this and that. All witchcraft. Course you're a witch, girlie, just like your dear old Aunt, I'll bet.”

Bella was shocked. She'd never thought of her healing wares as witchcraft, but maybe this boy was right. Why else would a Duke's son and a betrothed boy find her so desirable? She shuddered at the thought, and then squealed as the apprentice tugged harder on an obstinate hair.

“Sorry, girlie. 'E was a tough 'un, that 'un.”

“You went to my cottage. Is it alright?”

“Burnt to the ground, girlie. We 'ave to do that to a witch's 'ouse.”

Bella cried.

“I don't know what you're crying for, girlie. You won't need that cottage where you're going.”

“Why? Where am I going?”

“To the 'omely warmth of a burning stake.”

“But I don't want to die. Please help me,” sobbed Bella, distraught.

“Course you don't, girlie. But you should've thought of that before you bewitched that boy. It's too late now, girlie.”

“But I don't want to burn at the stake. That's horrible. Please help me,” wailed Bella.

“Oh, don't fret so, girlie. It's a long time before you'll burn, believe me. And when that time comes, you'll probably be grateful.” He took another noisy slurp of mead.

“Grateful. Why will I be grateful?” asked Bella, puzzled and worried.

“Well first, the Grand Inquisitor's got to rid you of the Devil inside you.”

“He's already pricked me all over with his horrible needle. He hurt me so much.”

“That's nothing, girlie. Just a wasp sting compared to what 'e must do to you later. You see, first 'e'll carry on and find the Devil's mark. Very good at that, 'e is. 'E'll test out your most sensitive areas next, that's why I've got to get rid of these 'airs. It's them down below that's 'iding the mark, probably. Don't worry, girlie, the Inquisitor will find it if it's 'idden in your sex.”

Bella sobbed again, but the young man ignored her and continued.

“He'll check your pretty boobies too. The Devil likes boobies, so the Inquisitor will prick them all over, to make sure 'e's not 'iding 'is mark there. And your arse, that's important, there's lots of places in the crack of a girl's arse for the Devil to 'ide. That'll 'urt much more than what 'e did today. Mind you, you're lucky. The Grand Inquisitor, 'e went to a lot of trouble to get that needle 'e uses – 'is witchfinder's awl. 'E searched out the best smithy in the country to make that for 'im, to 'is own personal design. A work of art is that needle, girlie, real craftsmanship. It's the finest in the land; sharper, thinner, straighter and longer than any other. 'E cleans that needle 'imself every night, girlie, so as to keep it fresh and not spread witches' diseases around. That means that when 'e pricks you with it, 'e can go deeper and make you feel the pain good and 'ard. That way you is sure to bleed and scream out nice and loud, but it don't really cause you too much injury. Keeps you fresh for other things.”

Bella felt sick, as the apprentice kept plucking her underarm hairs and kept talking.

“Then of course, 'e'll try and get you to confess your sins and repent. But there's no need to rush that, 'cos that can get messy, girlie. You see, if you confess and repent too quick, then that's likely to be the Devil still within you talking for you, trying to save 'imself. So the Inquisitor 'as to keep going until 'e's sure it's really you confessing. Then we like you to tell us your accomplices, so we can find and save more witches. Once all that is done, we'll give you back to the locals to burn. But, like I said, that's a while off for you yet, girlie.”

Bella's face went ashen as she listened in horror.

“Well, girlie. That's finished this arm. It looks much better now without all that fur, don't it? Let's 'ave a break before I start on the other one.”

He leaned over Bella's tear stained, sweaty face and wiped some loose hairs from her cheeks almost tenderly.

“You're quite a cute little thing aren't you, girlie?” he whispered in her ear.

Suddenly thinking up a desperate plot to escape, Bella responded with a weak smile. “You can do anything you like with me, if you let me go.”

He jumped up, laughing out loud. He squeezed her right tit painfully until Bella screamed.

“You listen to me, girlie. Are you trying to get me killed? I thought we was gettin' on good. Listen, girlie, I'm going to 'ave you any way I want, whether you like it or not. And if you don't do it good, then I'll use a little gentle persuasion like a good whippin' or a few touches from a nice 'ot iron. Then you'll really give me a good time. I've just got to wait until my betters 'ave 'ad their pleasure with you, then you're fair game and I'll take my share, thank you.”

He fingered her hairy sex as Bella squirmed and cried out in terror and despair. Everything he said just made her situation seem worse. “Please don't touch me there,” she squealed, squirming her hips delightfully. He looked at her and smiled as he teased her lovely, pink sex lips with his strong, wiry fingers. He pulled her lips apart as she squealed again and he tickled the soft folds within, gently scraping the entrance to her virgin love channel with his rough, sharp nails. She sobbed red-faced and pleaded again as he continued to explore her most private part, revelling in the girl's obvious, suffering innocence. Oh, how he liked the pretty, young ones. His cock stiffened, rock hard under his clothing, as he considered the prospect of fucking her sweet, virgin cunt. He knew he would have to wait his turn, and when it came she wouldn't be quite so pure and unsullied, but she'd still be a good fuck!

He released her cunt lips before he soiled himself, and poured another cup of mead. Then he moved to her left to begin the plucking of her other armpit.

“You see, girlie,” he said after some minutes of silence. “The Grand Inquisitor's got a tricky job this time. Sure, you're a witch and will burn in due course, but that don't put much in our coffers. The Duke 'as paid well for our services, but we came a long way for this job and we need to get a lot more out of this. Your cottage was worth bugger all and was burnt to the ground anyway, and apart from your witch's potions there weren't nothin' there for us to sell. Of course, you could denounce someone else under questioning, but as I understand it, you don't know of any wealthy property owners we could arrest. So that ain't much good. Besides, we can't afford to wait around while you think up some names to shout out at us.”

“The Duke, well he wants to see you burn quick, then we'll be gone and leave 'im in peace. That would save 'im our board and lodgin', too. So, the Grand Inquisitor, well 'e's got a balancing act to manage. 'E must be seen to be getting on with sorting you out, but 'e needs to delay things until we can get some more suspects. So 'e probably won't start the 'eavier stuff with you for a while yet. That way, we'll keep you nice and fresh for fucking until we can get some more comely witches in 'ere. Once we get on a roll, it's all self-perpetuating, girlie, like a production line of witches, denouncements, more witches, burnings, and so it goes on. Plenty of fresh, young things to fuck and we get to keep or sell the possessions of those that burn. That's 'ow we gets to pay for the clothes on our backs and the food in our tummies.”

“So, what the guys will do tomorrow, they'll start rounding up the pretty, young girls from the neighbourhood, maybe a twenty mile radius, depends 'ow they get on. They'll put 'em in the stables, like where you were, until we get our equipment set up, and then we'll see 'ow many are witches. I bet there'll be a lot; nobody's done a witch hunt round 'ere for donkey's years. I just 'ope some is as pretty as you, or you'll still 'ave to carry on servicing us all, and that'll soon wear you out. So, don't worry, girlie, you'll soon 'ave some company 'ere. Mind you, I don't suppose they'll like you much. After all, it'll be because of you that the Inquisitor came 'ere and rounded 'em all up!”

“If someone important asks why they got arrested, we'll just say you denounced 'em. And if the old Duke don't like it when we turn 'is lovely place into a huge witches' prison, we'll tell 'im to shut up unless 'e wants the King to 'ear about 'im obstructing the Grand Inquisitor in the course of 'is duties. 'E ain't got no choice really. After all, 'e was the one who sent for us in the first place.”

“Oh, and by the way, girlie. When it eventually comes to your execution, and we 'and you back to the locals. They might decide that burnin's too good for the witch that cost them all their lovely daughters, and devise a few local punishments to administer before you go to the stake. So it should be exciting times, I reckon, girlie, over the next few weeks.”

Bella couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was all so unfair.

“If you think I'm a witch, why aren't you scared I'll bewitch you?” she asked eventually.

“The Grand Inquisitor exorcised this room this morning, girlie. Your powers are useless 'ere. Besides, you've got none of your potions 'ere, 'ave you, girlie?”

He finished plucking her second armpit and ran his fingers through her long, dark hair. “That's real witch's 'air, that is, girlie. All long and dark. Sometimes the Inquisitor asks me to take that all off as well. Good, long witch's 'air can sell for a fair price, better than what I'll get for your armpit fuzz and pubes. I guess 'e reckons it will look good when it catches in the fire. Sometimes it sparks really well, 'specially when we put some oil or powder in it before the burnin'. Then the crowd goes mad when the witch screams as 'er 'air catches light. Then they put more pennies in the tins for us.”

He left the wretched girl and refreshed himself, this time offering another cupful to Bella, who took it greedily. Then he moved his stool down towards her splayed legs to start on the long and painful removal of her bush.

“Cor, blimey, girlie,” he cried as he pulled on a clump of Bella's curly, tangled, sweaty pubic hair. “This stuff's 'orrible. I 'ope it was in better condition when you were about to fuck that young nobleman.”

“I used to wash every day,” blubbed an embarrassed Bella. “But they wouldn't let me in the stable. They wouldn't even let me pee in a bucket.”

“Tbere's all sorts in this forest, girlie. I'm gonna have to wash this first, or I'll never get a decent price for it – it's foul!”

He disappeared from Bella's sight and returned a few moments later with a bucket of water and a scrubbing brush. Bella didn't like the look of the hard, sharp bristles on the brush, but before she could complain, the apprentice was sitting down again and dipping the brush in the water.

Bella screamed as the boy rubbed the wet brush hard across her mound and along her tender, pink slit. She felt as if her flesh was being ripped away and she squirmed on the table as much as her bonds would let her. “No, stop, please!” she screamed. “You'll kill me.”

The apprentice took no notice of her screams and enjoyed the bucking and twisting of her lovely hips. He smiled as he rubbed the harsh bristles up and down her slit a few more times, even though he had cleaned her hairs already quite thoroughly.

After just a few minutes he replaced the brush in the bucket and eyed her pubis, noting the fresher appearance of her hairy forest and the delicate, reddening skin underneath, criss-crossed with thin crimson lines where the bristles had scratched her.

“That's much better, girlie, ain't it?”

Bella sobbed.

“I don't know why you're fussin' about so much, girlie. Just a few little scratches and you're screamin' and wailin'. Tomorrow the Inquisitor's goin' to be prodding and pricking all round there with 'is needle. That'll 'urt much more than wot I just did. Then, once 'e's 'appy the Devil's not 'iding in there, 'e'll relieve you of your nasty virginity. That'll be real painful, too, wot with all them needle pricks in your tight cunny.”

“Why, why is he going to hurt me so much?” snivelled Bella.

“Well, girlie. It's no good you going to the stake a virgin, is it? That's not allowed by law, is it girlie?”

The apprentice started plucking the long, curly, dark hairs from Bella's pubis. He placed them all in a different jar this time, being careful not to drop a single hair. Bella squirmed and snivelled at every yank of a hair; her cute nose now dribbling two lines of runny, white snot onto her top lip. Several times she pleaded with the apprentice to stop, but he just ignored her crying and sobbing and continued with his work.

He used different approaches to this task at different times, just for variety really. Sometimes he would start with the hairs nearest a girl's belly button and work systematically downwards, leaving to last the thinner hairs surrounding the witch's cunt and anus. That way, he left the best to the end, as by then the girl would be tired and more responsive to the stings caused by the removal of the hairs around her sex. The trouble with that method was that some witches had a very hairy arse, and he would have to finish there, with the muckiest part. For Bella he chose his second method, really just a gradual thinning out process, allowing him to choose which hair to yank out in a seemingly random manner. In fact, he always made sure he left most of the hairs around the labia to last, as a present for himself. It also meant he could occasionally tear one from her most sensitive parts whenever he felt like it; if she was getting too comfortable or had stopped moaning and pleading. Thus he was able to take his time and prolong the girl's discomfort for many hours while he plucked the hundreds of hairs from her thickly forested bush.

He hummed contentedly to himself as he filled his jar with the proceeds of his work. “One day I'll have my own apprentice doing this,” he thought to himself. “And then I'll be the one who gets to pop the young witches' cherries. That'll be nice!”

When he had removed about half of her hairs, he decided he needed a break. His cock was itching again, stimulated by his victim's eternal moaning and wriggling, and the prolonged close proximity of her twitching, pink slit. He took a long slurp of mead and walked slowly to the girl's head. She looked up at him plaintively, her face still blushing and beautiful, despite the dirt, tears, sweat and snot that smeared it. He took pity and tipped his cup to her lips and she gulped down some more of the strange tasting liquid.

“Now, girlie,” he said to her. “I've just got to relieve some of the pressure you've been buildin' up in me.” He loosened his trousers and showed the wide-eyed girl his throbbing, erect member. He waved it in front of her astonished face. It was the first time in her life that Bella had ever seen a male cock.

“Never seen one before, eh girlie,” he goaded. “Well you better get a taste for 'em. You're goin' to see and feel a lot of these in the next few days, includin' this 'andsome beast. Like I told you, you're the only livin' thing in this place we can fuck for the time bein', unless any of the guys fancy a sheep or a goat for a change.”

He clambered onto the table and sat on the trembling girl's flat, smooth tummy, straddling her with his cock resting on her sternum between her soft, firm breasts. She continued to look fixedly at it as a drop of pearly pre-cum appeared on its very end. He settled into a comfortable position to enjoy his ride and gathered her breast flesh together over his member. He squashed himself hard with her beautiful, soft, young boobs, gripping her small, pink nipples as he did and squeezing the little buds until they began to harden. As the girl screamed in pain and fright, he started to gently rock his hips, causing his cock to rub deliciously up and down her breastbone between her captured tits. The table creaked as he picked up the pace and Bella's pricked back rubbed painfully on the rough wood. He tried to hold himself back as he dug his fingers into her lovely tits but his arousal was too strong and he quickly spurted an arc of creamy cum over the top of the girl's freckled, blood specked chest and onto her slender neck and tearful face.

A few drops splashed on the girl's pretty lips and she licked them with her pink tongue, tasting male sperm for the first time. She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant flavour and the unfamiliar smell of the gooey substance and tried unsuccessfully to spit the taste from her mouth.

He released her boobs and enjoyed watching them bounce quickly back to their normal position and shape. The dirty finger marks gave testimony to his treatment of the young virgin. He wiped his sticky cock on her breasts, climbed off the weeping, shocked girl. He walked into the shadows, returning a little later with his trousers now back in full order. He was holding a cloth, which he dipped in the water bucket. He removed the semen from the sobbing girl's chest, neck and face, taking the opportunity to clean her up a little.

He returned to his stool to continue the slow depilation of the girl's mound. She whimpered anew, but her wails and screams were much quieter now and neither spoke for a while. As he set about the intricate task of removing the straggly hairs around her sweet, pink lips, his concentration deepened as he savoured every tiny twitch and spasm of her lovely sex. He fingered deeply into the dry, tender folds of her most private flesh to search out the shortest little hairs growing there and diligently removed each one. He gave his snivelling victim a running commentary as if he was hunting down a fleeing prey and cornering it before capture. Then he would hold up his prize catch in his tweezers in front of his eyes before caging it in his little jar.

After hours of endless probing, he finally declared her mound totally bald. He patted her silky smooth, but rather sore, sex with the tips of his fingers, giving her a last, almost gentle squeeze.

“That's much better, girlie,” he told her. “All ready now for the Inquisitor's needle.” Bella did not respond.

The apprentice pushed away his stool and put the lid on his jar containing the girl's pubic hair, placing it carefully with the other jars. He looked at the girl now breathing shallowly and sobbing quietly on the table. “Best get some rest, girlie. It'll be a busy day tomorrow,” he advised her. He pulled up a large chair and sat back, his feet resting on the stool. In a few minutes his raucous snores filled the room as the snivelling girl on the table desperately tried to find the peace to sleep.

Bella woke with a start from her fitful slumber. For a moment she thought she was in her lovely, little cottage, lying safely on her old bed. She looked around in the darkness, and quickly the awful memories of the past few days flooded back into her mind. She heard the contented snores of the apprentice on the chair next to her. Many of the torches had gone out, but the first rays of the new day were just showing through the arrow slit windows, bathing her nude body in stripes of warm, golden sunlight.

Bella tried to sit up, but of course her cuffed wrists prevented this. Neither could she close her aching, widely spread thighs. She hurt all over as she remembered the Inquisitor and his awful needle. She recalled all the things the boy had told her last night; surely it wasn't true. She hoped not and consoled herself that he may have been trying to scare her, as mischievous boys do.

Her backside hurt where it had been rubbing on the hard wooden table all night, and the girl wiggled her hips and arched her back to try and ease the pain. She moaned.

The young apprentice woke and saw the moaning, squirming girl. He laughed, “That's good, girlie. I'm glad you've been practicin'. You do that while I'm fuckin' you and we'll be off to a good start.”

Bella relaxed her writhing body; her face flushing brightly. “Please. Can I have a drink, please? Of water, please,” she pleaded.

He sprang up. “Sure, girlie,” he called over to the girl and poured a cup of water. He held it to her dry lips and allowed her to drink. “Thank you,” she said politely. He drank the rest himself.

He sat down and watched his captive as she tried again to get comfortable on the hard wooden table. He hoped to spend more time alone with her the following night, when he would be allowed to use at least one of her cute orifices, preferably her cunt, or maybe her tiny arse hole; that had also looked inviting; or perhaps her lovely little mouth. He drifted off into another peaceful slumber full of the sweetest dreams!

Chapter 7 – The Search Continues

The hooded Grand Inquisitor strode purposefully into the large room, closely followed by his assistant and his scribe.

The young apprentice woke from his deep sleep with a start, only a little embarrassed to find himself in front of his masters with his throbbing cock in his right hand. “Holy God,” he thought. “I was just about to stick this up that witch's tight arse.” He looked over to the girl lying still on the wooden table next to him and was relieved to find his cock was nowhere near the target of his lustful dreams.

His assistant lit the torches to properly illuminate the room, allowing the Inquisitor to examine the girl's armpits and crotch. He nodded his satisfaction as the boy tidied his dress. “As you seem to have rested well, you can stay and assist with the witch's examination. You might learn something.”

The boy bowed respectfully.

“The guards have gone out to capture some more suspects of this witches' coven,” he told the boy. “We must therefore prepare and watch over this vile creature ourselves today. Help secure her. I must resume my search for the Devil's mark.”

Bella listened to all this from her prone position on the table. The boy had been right; they were out hunting for more girls. He had also said that the Grand Inquisitor was going to prick her again with his awful needle. She shuddered, and pleaded, “No. Please, sir. I'm innocent. I'm not a witch. Honestly, sir. Please let me go. I promise I'll be a good girl. I won't sell any more potions, I promise. Please don't prick me with that horrible needle again, please.”

“Quiet, witch!” snarled the Inquisitor. “Listen how the Devil pleads for her. I must root him out!”

The apprentice and the assistant untied Bella's wrists and released her ankles, keeping a firm grip on her arms, lest she try to escape. Although they thought it unlikely she would make a run for it, they had locked the door as a secondary precaution. An escape attempt, however futile, would be a huge embarrassment to the Inquisitor.

Bella was led back to the spot on the floor where she had been displayed the evening before. She was chained up as before, with her aching arms and legs spread wide and with her dainty feet just inches off the stone floor. She started crying, not so much at the pain in her tortured limbs, but more at her renewed exposure, made more evident by the cold draught she felt in her sore, denuded crotch, and her fear of being pricked there and in other tender spots.

The Inquisitor stood in front of the shivering girl and showed her again his long, thin needle, now gleaming clean again. “I will now continue my search for the Devil's mark,” he announced, more to the girl than the scribbling scribe. “Blindfold the witch.”

As the apprentice approached her with the black blindfold, Bella looked at him with tear-filled eyes. She well remembered the awful feeling of that hideous needle sliding agonisingly through her flesh. “Please,” she implored him. “Don't let him do this to me. Please. I'll do anything,” she sobbed. His face impassive, he ignored her and tied the blindfold tightly over her lovely, green eyes.

The Inquisitor's cock twitched as he remembered the pretty, little witch from the previous evening's session. He circled her slowly, drinking up again the smoothness of her skin and her wonderful array of brownish freckles. He recalled the swell of her breasts and arse cheeks. Oh yes, he had saved those lovelies for this morning, when he would have more time to savour them. He looked closely at her hairless armpits; pleased to find tiny freckles now exposed there too. He bent to examine her cleanly scrubbed sex, knowing he would leave that luscious gift for the final act of his holy needle play. Oh yes, this would be a most thorough, unrushed examination. After all, he had all day before the guards would return with some fresh girls.

The room was silent, except for the sounds of the suspended girl's laboured breathing, as the Inquisitor continued to prowl around his victim. Where to start? That had been his problem last time, too. He saw the smudged, bloody trails on the girl's pale skin from last night's piercings, and he remembered.

With a slow, calculated precision he steadied the trembling girl and pricked her skin by her right shoulder, just to the left of his first assault the previous evening. She screamed, as she had done then, and her blood flowed again from the new puncture wound, dripping over her collar bone and down towards her heaving chest. Ah yes, that was the place.

And so it went on as he pierced the wailing girl with his bloody needle. Every time he pricked, whether it was a quick, shallow wound on her hip bone, or a long, slow, deep penetration through her taught biceps, the girl screamed in pain and her blood oozed around the needle's tip. For a full hour he dotted her lovely flesh with bloody holes, but he still couldn't find the Devil's mark. He still spared her gorgeous tits and tempting arse cheeks, for now at least, and of course her precious pussy, but he did enjoy her newly plucked armpits, plunging his long needle agonisingly upwards until the tip struck the bones in her shuddering shoulders.

He called for water and took a rest from his labours. He ordered the girl's blindfold removed so she could see the bloody lines on her sweat soaked body. She sobbed pitifully, barely able to drink the water offered by the smirking apprentice. She begged him to release her, offering him everything she had, but he ignored her heart rending pleas. She wept again, her tortured, young body heaving as she sobbed, her lank hair plastered to her sweaty shoulders.

After a ten minute break, carefully recorded by the dutiful scribe, the Inquisitor resumed. Her blindfold was replaced as the needle slid easily into the girl's left forearm, just beneath her slim, bound wrist. The next hour seemed to last a lifetime for the poor, wailing girl. Her soft flesh was punctured again and again by the Inquisitor's insistent needle as he sought out the elusive mark. As she had the previous evening, she keenly felt every painful inch of every prick, and she screamed and wailed at each one. Bella began to wonder if he would ever find the mark he searched for so thoroughly, assuming she had it in the first place, which she still doubted. As her torture continued though, part of her hoped the Devil had indeed left his mark on her, and that the Inquisitor would discover it soon with his horrible, unholy needle.

At the end of another agonising hour the Inquisitor stopped his work again; the scribe being still to record the successful identification of the Devil's mark. He looked at the exhausted girl, her head now hanging on her chest, her whole body streaming in sweat. She was much quieter now, managing only muted squeals with every prick, unless he worked his needle hard inside her flesh to elicit a more agonised wail. Her hands were going blue from lack of circulation and she desperately needed a rest. He looked at her tits, still unpricked, but very bloody from the numerous punctures higher on her heavily freckled chest. Her arse cheeks likewise showed bloody streaks but were intact. There was even some blood around her smooth pussy where it had gathered from deep wounds in her abdomen.

He ordered her an hour's respite, after which he would properly examine those outstanding body parts. He felt his cock twitching again with anticipation, though it had been pretty hard all morning!

His assistant and his apprentice released the girl, who fell to her knees on the cold, stone floor. She rubbed her sore wrists to regain some circulation and was left alone for a few minutes to soothe her aching body. She was given a cup of water, which she drank greedily, holding her hand out to beg for more. Four times the apprentice filled her cup. He knew she needed the liquid badly, and to deprive her of it would just cause her to pass out. She'd be no fun then, and he'd really enjoyed her performance so far!

As her strength returned, Bella again pleaded for mercy. When she would not be quiet, the Inquisitor ordered her to be gagged and the apprentice tied her blindfold tightly over her pretty mouth, warning her sternly not to remove it, or he would bind her hands behind her back. Bella complied and curled up in a ball in the floor, dozing fitfully until her torment would start again.

All too soon, for her at least, her prescribed rest period was over and Bella found her arms once more grasped by the assistant and the apprentice. The boy asked her if she needed to pee and then she was led to a bucket in the corner of the room. She crouched and peed, the yellow liquid splashing into the iron bucket like rain on a tin roof. When she was finished, she returned obediently to the centre of the room and raised her lovely, green eyes pleadingly at the boy. But he still clasped her wrists in the iron cuffs and pulled on the chains until she was balanced on her tiptoes. He still pulled on her shapely ankles and fastened them in their iron cuffs, leaving her as stretched and exposed as before.

He took a rag and dipped it in his water bucket and stood in front of the girl. She was still gagged but not blindfolded. He rubbed her presented breasts with the cold, wet rag, removing the dried blood from the lovely, smooth globes. He was careful to lift each breast in turn and thoroughly wipe the tender undersides and to rub hard on her pretty, pink nipples until they stood out from her clean, perky boobs. There would be nowhere for the Devil to hide his mark on these tits!

He rinsed his rag in the bucket and moved behind her to repeat the process with her pert, round arse cheeks. He forced his rag deep into her arse crack, cleaning her anus and her pink slit. After another rinse, he moved back in front of her, noticing her weeping eyes and renewed sobs. He washed the blood from her tender, nude mound and rubbed his rag deep into her crotch, fingering her pussy as she whimpered her futile protests. He played with her a while, as he checked every last tiny fold of her flesh, until he sensed his master's growing impatience. Finally he removed the gag from the trembling girl's mouth and replaced it over her pleading eyes to blind her once again.

With her gag removed, Bella screamed her protest at what she knew was to come. “Please, sir!” she shouted at the Grand Inquisitor. “Please don't hurt me any more. Please don't hurt my poor boobies and my bottom. I'm not a witch. Please believe me, sir. I don't have the Devil's mark. You must believe me now, please!”

“Quiet, witch! The Devil is still within you. That is for sure. He knows I will soon find his evil mark. That is why he speaks out now so urgently. But he will not deflect me from my merciful task.”

He grasped her firm, left breast in his left hand, exposing the pale, taught skin of its underside and the tiny, faint brown mark hiding there. He aimed his needle unerringly at her luscious tit; his cock pressing harder than ever against his cloak.

She felt the tip of his needle touch the surface of her tit and screamed shrilly even before her flesh was pricked. Her high-pitched cry of fear changed to a guttural groan of agony as the Inquisitor pushed the needle slowly up and into her beautiful breast, avidly watched by his young apprentice, who was brazenly rubbing his aching groin. Of course, blood oozed immediately from the wound, proving the tiny brown mark to have not been of the Devil's making. The Inquisitor ignored that detail and pushed on, twisting his needle as her drove it into the tender meat of her young, vibrant boob. Tears streamed down the agonised girl's face from under her blindfold as the Inquisitor slowly withdrew his bloody needle. Impassive, he prepared to skewer her beautiful, bobbing, right breast as her blood dripped to the cold, stone floor.

He moved to the girl's right and surveyed the outer curve of her right breast. Two inches outside her perky nipple was a single, dark freckle, which required his professional attention. He gripped her boob as she screamed in anticipation of this next attack. He positioned his long needle horizontally to line up with his target, and prodded slowly and deliberately through the freckle as the girl screamed louder and thrashed her head wildly about. He pricked deeper, passing just behind her quivering nipple until the point of his needle almost poked through on the inside of her trembling boob. Blood ran down from the girl's breast over her shuddering ribs towards her hip. The thwarted Inquisitor calmly pulled his needle out of the girl's swelling breast and sought out his next luscious, fleshy target.

As the girl calmed a little, he walked behind her and lowered his gaze to her lovely, round bum cheeks, beautifully presented by her taught bondage.

Her pert, smooth buttocks quivered erotically as he ran his callused hands slowly over them, and she begged him again to end his interminable quest for the Devil's mark. He smiled at her pathetic pleading, wondering how she would cope under the more severe questioning that would follow in the coming days. He guessed she would very quickly confess her guilt and name her accomplices, real or imagined; but there was time for that later, much later.

As his cock throbbed harder, the Grand Inquisitor knelt behind his young victim and squeezed her left cheek. He placed the fine, sharp tip of his trusty needle on the pale skin in the centre of her trembling buttock and pushed in firmly. The pliant flesh indented two or three inches before the epidermis was finally pierced and a thin trickle of crimson blood ran down the curve of her arse and onto the top of her thigh. He continued pushing, ignoring her heart rending screams, until all the shining metal of his awl was embedded deep inside her swelling arse cheek. Only then did he slowly withdraw his needle from the panting girl's bleeding flesh.

He moved to his right and slowly pricked her other bum cheek, with very similar results. Moving from one to the other, he prodded his long, thin needle slowly into her shuddering, blood streaked buttocks. Bella's cries became more desperate with each assault; her pleas for mercy more plaintive and her sobbing more tearful. The Inquisitor remained unmoved by her suffering, methodically covering her arse with tiny, deep, and bleeding punctures.

At last he prised apart her tortured a bum cheeks and studied the puckered hole of her anus. He smiled as he saw the tight muscles twitch at their exposure and heard the girl squeal in fresh alarm. He would enjoy fucking this cute opening later, but for now he just needed to gently probe it in case the Devil's mark was lurking there. He prodded the very end of his needle into the muscles surrounding her tiny orifice, just enough to draw a little blood and elicit a panicky screech from the terrified girl. Four times he repeated his manoeuvre until he was satisfied that he had searched the area quite thoroughly.

The Grand Inquisitor stood up and stretched his aching back, groaning and grimacing. He ordered the girl be watered and her blindfold removed, but that she not be released from her bonds. He sat and watched as the sweating girl thirstily took water and again begged his apprentice to save her. He smiled at her naivety, but almost admired her persistence. As he took his own refreshment, his throbbing member reminded him of his need to satisfy himself sexually with the witch before too long. However, he still had to search her there, and he wanted to return to her lovely boobies first.

The apprentice ordered Bella to pee as her held a bucket between her legs. The girl obediently tensioned her tummy muscles and after a bit of a false start she emptied her bladder. “Well done, girlie,” the apprentice praised her in his normal, jaunty style and then he asked if she needed to shit. Blushing, she shook her head, her pleading eyes never leaving his, as if she still thought him her best route to salvation.

The apprentice replaced the tear sodden blindfold on the weary girl. She seemed almost resigned to another session of painful examination. The Grand Inquisitor stirred himself and eyed her gently rising and falling breasts. To him they looked even prettier now they were slightly swollen and bloodied.

Without ado he pinched the small, pink nipple of her right breast and prodded a tiny brown freckle on the inside of her boob, near her sweaty cleavage. Suddenly the girl resumed her screeching wails and the Inquisitor frowned at the pain in his ears. He'd have to gag the witch when he put her on the rack.

He pricked her breast, but not so deep this time, and moved quickly to another spot on the same boob, keeping his firm grip on her slippery nipple. He made four more painful pricks in the girl's tortured breast before at last he relented. Bella gabbled her desperate pleas for him to stop, as the sharp pains filled her sensitive boob.

As if in a hurry now to complete his search for the Devil's mark, the Inquisitor started immediately on Bella's left boob, quickly filling that too with the pain of sharp needle pricks that penetrated the outer layers of her lovely breast flesh.

He stood back to admire his work. Although not badly injured, both sweaty breasts were now streaked with many thin lines of fresh blood, glistening in the flickering torchlight. Just one thing remained to do before he could move on.

He stepped forward and pinched the girl's right nipple again, this time squeezing it at its base. Ignoring the girl's imploring shrieks, he carefully placed the tip of his needle at the very end of the sweaty, pink bud, seeking out the entrance to its tiny milk duct. When he thought his needle was accurately positioned, he pushed slowly but firmly until an inch of the thin, metal shaft had disappeared into her tit. The wretched girl howled her pain, but the Inquisitor was in no hurry to remove his awful needle, counting slowly to ten, as was his practise with this operation.

At last he released the girl's tortured teat, and nodded to the scribe to record his action and the reaction of the witch.

He took a pace to his right and repeated the process with her other pink nipple. He pierced it just as slowly, methodically and painfully as before, and elicited the same screaming, tearful reaction. He stood back again to savour the agony of his young victim and to observe the bubbles of blood on the very tips of her breasts. He knew her nipples would be tender and sore for days, and quite swollen too. He smiled; they had needed enlarging, and the added sensitivity would make her even more responsive when he came to fuck the witch.

He ordered his apprentice to remove the girl's blindfold, so she could see the effects of his work on her tits. Bella looked down through crying eyes at her swollen, bloodied breasts and their tortured nipples. The awful pain she had felt was much worse than the damage looked, and was testament to the sensitivity of her inexperienced, young body.

“Now, girlie,” said the apprentice to her earnestly. “The Grand Inquisitor is goin' to search for the Devil's mark in that place I told you about, where I took that forest of 'air from you last night. Do you understand, girlie?”

Bella looked at him pitifully and sobbed. She understood.

“Well, girlie. If you pee or shit while 'e's lookin' there, then that will be the Devil's work. It will mean 'e possesses you more than we thought. You don't want that, do you, girlie?”

She shook her head obediently.

“So if you want to pee or shit, tell me and you can do it now.”

She shook her head again and sobbed quietly in anticipation of the dreadful examination to come. “Please. Please help me,” she cried.

The apprentice replaced her blindfold, smiling at the girl as he did.

He moved to the chain holding her right ankle and pulled it further away from her body, parting her legs even more. He did the same with her left ankle, opening her crotch as wide as he could to ease his master's task. Finally he placed a flickering torch in a low bracket just in front of the girl and moved a short stool close between her outspread legs.

The Grand Inquisitor adjusted the position of his stool and sat down, his eyes just inches from the girl's clean, smooth, slightly sore mound. He took his treasured witchfinder's awl from the deep pocket of his cloak and looked proudly at its fine, sharp tip. He regarded the fleshy, pink lips of his victim's sex, quivering slightly in the flickering torchlight.

The girl whimpered and pleaded for mercy as he fingered her virgin sex, prising apart her labia to search the tender folds within. He was looking intently, searching for a mark, any blemish no matter how small. He was sure he would find one there somewhere. He pulled and squeezed with his fingers, quite delicately unravelling her pink lips, looking for the final spot to use his holy needle. After a few minutes, while the girl squealed and wailed in anticipation of the horror of his awful, pricking needle, the Grand Inquisitor found what he was so intensely seeking. Hidden deep in the girl's labia was a tiny brown lump; a wart or a mole: not much bigger than the sharp tip of his needle. He smiled and removed his fingers from her sex, fixing its location firmly in his memory.

And so the Grand Inquisitor continued his holy task of searching for the Devil's mark in the sex of the young witch. He pinched her lip and placed the tip of his needle against the moist, pink flesh and pushed gently into her virgin softness. The girl's body went rigid as she screamed her pain and fear; a pain far worse than she had even imagined in her frantic anticipation. He did not pierce too deeply this time and only a little of the girl's blood was spilt as he slowly pulled his hold awl back out again.

Just a few seconds later he was piercing the girl again, only an inch or two from his first prick. Bella continued to scream at high volume. She knew of course that her sex was sensitive to the touch, normally her own touch, but she never imagined it could feel so much pain. Every time the awful needle entered her flesh, it seemed as if a million nerves screamed at her, deafening her mind with their hellish cries of agony.

The Grand Inquisitor continued his holy work, pricking all over her sex and the tender skin around it. His cock grew harder than ever as he drank in the girl's pitiful wailing. He knew that the injuries she was causing the girl were not particularly damaging, but they would make his later rape of the virgin witch desperately painful for her. He was expecting a very responsive and satisfying fuck that afternoon.

Time and again the bloody tip of his needle smoothly penetrated the girl's flesh as the Grand Inquisitor dotted her labia with dozens of tiny piercings. Bella's wails became hoarse as her throat dried, but she still squealed with every painful thrust of the horrible needle. At last he had done enough to satisfy his sadistic lust, and with a practised sleight of hand he twisted the wooden handle of his witchfinder's awl. He pulled back the bloody folds of the girl's tortured sex and spied again the tiny, dark mole he had identified earlier. He placed the sharp tip of his needle on the minute blemish and pushed. The exhausted girl did not respond, and no blood oozed from the mark. He had at last found the Devil's mark, cleverly hidden in the most secret part of the witch's young body!

The Grand Inquisitor urgently called over his assistant and his scribe and repeated his pricking of the tiny mole for them to witness. 'The witch does not feel the pain of the needle in her vile flesh; nor is there any blood,' he stated to the two, who nodded their agreement. 'Let the record show that the Devil's mark was found, hidden deep in the witch's sex.'

The scribe went back to his desk and scribbled urgently on his scroll.

The Grand Inquisitor declared it time for lunch. After issuing some instructions, he left the room.

Poor Bella knew nothing of what had just happened. She was just relieved when her chains were loosened and she collapsed on the floor in an exhausted heap. The apprentice released her ankles completely, allowing her to mercifully close her legs at last. Her wrists remained chained, but with sufficient slack for her to caress her throbbing sex and try to dissipate the burning pain that she felt there. She looked down at her bloodied crotch and cried at the redness she saw there and on her poor breasts and swollen nipples. Once the pain from her sex had eased a little, she rubbed her tender boobs gently, trying so soothe away some of their pain.

Bella took a cup of water from the attentive apprentice and drank it in one long gulp. She took more and drank that too. The apprentice then gave her the pitcher he was carrying and she helped herself, pouring a little on her sore wounds as well.

As Bella sat tearfully trying to comfort herself, there was a knock on the door and a young maid entered, carrying a large tray. Bella looked at the girl, who was obviously one of the Duke's servants and was about her own age, and was pretty too. She smiled weakly in her pain, but the maid turned quickly away, seemingly frightened of the naked, bloodied young witch.

The maid laid the tray on the table and scurried off.

The assistant, the scribe and the apprentice all sat down and started their meal. No one spoke. After a while the apprentice returned to where Bella sat and handed her some bread and more fresh water. Bella thanked him meekly and started chewing on the light, tasty dough. Although she had not eaten properly for days, she still found it difficult to get the bread down; such was her fear.

When she eventually finished her bread, Bella curled up in a ball on the cold floor and fell into a fitful sleep; her mind still filled with pain and fear, and vividly horribly memories.

Chapter 8 – Driving out the Devil

Some time later, Bella woke with a start as the apprentice was unfastening the chains from her wrists. She noticed that the two of them were now alone in the room.

“What's going to happen now, please?” she asked him fearfully.

“Don't you worry, girlie. You come over 'ere and 'ave a pee and a shit. You'll feel better then.”

Bella got stiffly to her feet and walked slowly over to where the mess bucket stood. She crouched and peed quickly, and then strained to extract a few hard, little lumps of shit that thumped into the waiting bucket. Bella grimaced; the opening of her arse hole to emit her shit had painfully irritated the small puncture wounds surrounding her anus. When she was done, she looked for something to wipe herself with, but the apprentice grasped her wrist and started pulling her away.

“Well done, girlie,” he chirped. “Now you come over 'ere nice and quiet and I'll explain it all.”

“No! I don't want to be tied up again. Please let me go.” Bella struggled as the apprentice tried to pull her over to the large, wooden table where she had spent the previous night.

“Listen, girlie. Don't make a fuss, or I'll 'ave to 'urt you, and I don't want to do that.” He yanked her by the arm, almost throwing the slight girl onto the table.

“No. Please,” pleaded Bella, but her captor had a very firm grip on her left arm and he twisted her back down onto the table, dextrously trapping her wrist in the cuff that waited there. With one limb now secured, Bella ceased her feeble struggle and allowed the apprentice to position her as she had been for her earlier depilation, with her legs widely spread and her hands cuffed above her head.

The apprentice retrieved a bucket of water and a cloth and approached the bound girl. He wetted the cloth and started to clean her sex, washing away the dried blood from her labia and the skin that surrounded it. Bella yelped, more at his touch of her privates than with pain. The apprentice took his time, cleaning deep into her sex where the Inquisitor's needle had pricked her so many times. This was more painful, and Bella once again pleaded with her young tormentor.

“Please. I hurt so much. I've been punished enough now for upsetting the Duke. I won't do it again, I promise. Please let me go. I want to go home now. Please.”

“That's better, girlie,” said the boy proudly, again ignoring her pleas. He rinsed his cloth. “The Grand Inquisitor likes a nice, clean cunt. Now for your little boobies.”

He then washed Bella's bloodied, swollen tits, rubbing the firm, pliant flesh with his cloth, often squeezing her tits quite hard, and being rewarded with plaintive squeals. He tweaked her sore, swollen nipples, making her groan as fresh pain shot through them.

Finally, he washed the tears and sweat from her pretty face. She looked down at her breasts, and was relieved to see the washing had wiped away the bloody streaks, leaving just a few tiny, dark scabs to mar her smooth, pale skin, though her tender nipples remained sore and bloated. She guessed that her whole body would look like that if it was clean, and that she would heal well in a few days. She tried again.

“Please. Don't you think I'm pretty? Please let me go. You're a nice boy. We can run away together and live a very happy life. We can have lots of lovely children. You'd be a wonderful husband and father.”

“Listen, girlie. That's enough of that,” he replied a little irritated. “Don't let my master 'ear you talk like that for God's sake. You're a witch; alright you're one of the prettiest I've seen, but a witch nonetheless. You'll burn at the stake in due course, and that's a fact, so shut up with all the lettin' you go nonsense. It ain't goin' to 'appen, girlie.”

“But I'm not a witch,” Bella sobbed quietly. “Please.”

“Yes you are, girlie. Now that the Grand Inquisitor's found the Devil's mark, 'e 'as to drive 'im from your witch's body,” stated the boy in a matter of fact way.

“No!” squealed Bella. “He can't have found the Devil's mark. I'm not a witch!”

“Come on, girlie. It was properly witnessed and everythin'. 'E found the mark in your cunny, where the Devil often puts it in a witch, especially the pretty ones.”

“But I didn't feel anything!”

“Of course not, silly. That's the 'ole point. The Devil's mark causes no pain and no blood. Now that 'e's found it, the Inquisitor needs to fill your sweet body with 'oly seed to drive out the Devil.”

“What? How will he do that?”

“By fucking you, silly!”

“No! I don't want him to fuck me. I've never been with a man. He can't fuck me.”

“We all know you're a virgin, girlie. All the more reason to fuck you before you burn. Once the Inquisitor's fucked you, then 'is assistant will 'ave a go, then the scribe, and then it's my turn, I 'ope, unless someone more important turns up before I get me chance. You'll soon be filled with plenty of 'oly seed to 'elp drive out the Devil, girlie.”

Bella sobbed in disbelief as the young apprentice continued.

“You see, girlie, the guards'll be back later with more witches for us. They'll put 'em in the stables 'till we're ready for 'em. Then we've got wagons coming with all our equipment and some more guys to 'elp with the investigations. We'll set it all up in the old Duke's cellar. That'll take 'till the end of tomorrow I reckon, but then we'll 'ave everything we need and we can leave this room. It's not really big enough for what we do, and it's difficult to get the heavier bits of equipment up them narrow stairs.”

“In the meantime, you're still the only girl we've got. So, girlie, I reckon you're going to get a good lot of fuckin' over the next two days, until them new witches 'ave been settled in downstairs.”

The apprentice then picked up a large jar and dipped his fingers in it. He pulled them out, now holding a dollop of greasy tallow. He smeared some on her dry cunt, working it into her pussy lips until they were sufficiently moist to his satisfaction.

“There you are, girlie. You're all ready now. The Grand Inquisitor will be pleased with you, I reckon. You'll be nice and tight, I don't doubt, and you'll bleed from losing your cherry and you'll squirm around from your prickings, but you won't be so dry as to cause 'im any nasty burning. 'E'll be 'ere in a minute. Not long to wait now, girlie.”

Bella sighed deeply as she waited for her deflowering. Her old Aunt had never told her about sex, and she knew little of what would happen to her, save the obvious filling of her cunt with the Inquisitor's cock. She had only last night seen her first penis and she had thought it far too large for her small hole. She wondered if the Inquisitor's would be as big and how he would make it fit inside her. When the apprentice had sat on her tummy, he had squirted his semen onto her chest after only a few minutes, so she hoped the Inquisitor would not take long with her. She wondered how much it would hurt, and hoped it would be much less painful than the awful, slow pricking of that horrid needle. She shivered yet again at the recurring memory. The door opened and the Grand Inquisitor appeared, followed closely by his loyal scribe. She would now find out!

“You may go,” he informed his apprentice, after he carefully inspected the witch's presentation. The scribe made a few quick scribbles on his scroll and followed the young apprentice from the room.

Once alone, the Grand Inquisitor looked down through his hood at the anxious girl tied obscenely on the sloping table. The apparatus they had to use was not ideal for the purpose of fucking the witch, but it was best he had, unless he asked the Duke for use of his four-poster. It would be better when he had all his equipment set up in the cellar in a couple of days, but he certainly didn't want to wait that long to pop this pretty girl's cherry.

His cock twitched and he knew he could leave it no longer; this sexy, little witch had been teasing him for long enough. His excitement grew as he looked again at her pretty, pink sex lips now glistening with moisture as though she were aroused and inviting him in.

Bella sensed his lust, even though she could not see his face. She started squirming and pulling on her bonds, causing the iron chains that held her to clank against the wooden table. “Please, sir,” she sobbed. “Please don't. I don't want you to fuck me.”

“Quiet, witch!” he yelled back, his fantasy destroyed. “I must drive out the Devil from within you. You will thank me when it's done.”

He loosened his cloak and showed his hard, extended member to the terrified girl. It looked huge to Bella, much bigger than the boy's and far too big to enter her tiny pussy. She howled, “No. No. No. You can't put that thing in me. You can't. You can't.”

“Oh yes! Be gone, evil Devil!”

He clambered onto the table and lay atop the writhing, wailing girl. He grabbed her heaving breasts and squeezed her swollen nipples hard, causing fresh, tiny drops of blood to bubble from their tips. He pulled down hard on the girl's shoulders, forcing her arms to straighten and her pricked back and buttocks to slide painfully down the rough wooden table. This forced Bella to bend her knees and spread her thighs even wider. He reached down and guided his rock hard cock to her gleaming, virgin cunt and rubbed it up and down her slit as the girl screamed in fear and confusion. The tallow in her cunt quickly slicked his throbbing cock and he could hold himself back no longer. He slowly pushed his cock through her parting sex lips until he felt the exquisite resistance of her virgin's hymen. He smiled at the delicious prospect of what he was about to do, and paused for a few wonderful seconds. He looked at the beautiful, tear stained face of the lovely, young witch just inches below him and sneered at her, though she could not see his face hidden in his oversized hood. He bucked his hips and thrust viciously with all his might, shouting his lust in an incomprehensible mantra of triumph.

Bella felt something tear inside her sore, stretched sex. She screamed as she became a virgin no more. The Inquisitor's cock pumped her pussy like a piston and Bella squirmed at the hot pain that coursed through her pierced and pricked love channel. Her face glowed red as an unfamiliar mixture of sensations flooded her body. Certainly she felt the pain in her sex, she felt that a lot, but she noticed other less obvious feelings that seemed to be causing her body to overheat.

The Inquisitor pumped the little witch like he was himself possessed. He liked to look at the crimson, flushing face of the girl he was fucking. He loved the way her breasts felt so smooth and soft, and yet firm and pliable, with those luscious pink nipples that were so very responsive to his slightest squeeze. Best of all he adored the tightness of her virgin pussy; the way the strong, young muscles in her love channel gripped his cock as he thrust in and out of her, and the way she bucked her hips as the pain from his pummelling scorched through her sexy, squirming body. Oh yes, this was living right up to his high expectations.

Bella had stopped screaming, but now groaned at every deep inward thrust of her assailant's hips. Tears dripped from her lovely, green eyes as she painfully rode out her first rape. Many times she thought the Grand Inquisitor was on the verge of finishing with her, as his pounding slowed, but then he would somehow regain his energy and quicken his action again, pumping hard into the wretched young girl, whose moans would increase again in frequency and volume.

The Inquisitor continued, determined to make this epic fucking last as long as he could. Every time he tired, he looked down at the girl's wonderful, green eyes, sparkling with tears, and he would be refreshed and ready to pound her some more, and make her groan and buck and wriggle again.

At last, though, he knew he was spent, and it was time to fill the witch with her first dose of his holy seed. He pushed his chest off the girl's squashed tits and pulled his cock out as far as he could without it leaving the warm comfort of the girl's tight, gripping sex. Then he thrust deep back into her, until his balls once again slammed against her, as she groaned deeply. In and out he thrust his swollen cock, ever faster as he at last reached his holy climax. Finally, he felt a huge surge and he spurted his holy seed again and again deep into the girl's trembling belly as his balls suddenly emptied.

He pulled his limp cock from the girl's bleeding sex and wiped off the greasy, reddish liquid on a rag thoughtfully placed there by his apprentice. He glanced quickly at the red faced, sobbing girl lying on the table, a small puddle forming under her dripping, bleeding sex. He hoped her arse would be just as satisfying.

The Grand Inquisitor crossed himself and bade the Devil flee the body of the young witch. Then he left to return to his quarters, his holy work completed for today.

The apprentice now returned and mopped up the puddle on the table. He then cleaned out her bloody sex with his cloth, the cold water soothing her burning pussy. Finally he applied another coating of tallow on her sore cunt. He left again without saying a word to the distraught, sobbing girl.

The Inquisitor's assistant passed the apprentice at the door and approached the prostrate, spread girl. Without ado, he climbed on top of the witch, his member already exposed and poised. He looked down at her sad, weeping eyes and entered her sore pussy immediately. Bella squealed tiredly and wriggled a little, exciting her rapist as he pumped her tight cunt energetically. He played a little with her tits as he fucked her, and quite quickly came, spurting his semen on top of the holy seed previously deposited by his master.

He too used the cloth to wipe his blood and grease slicked member and crossed himself. He then left the room without another glance at the young witch.

As he left, the apprentice entered and prepared the girl for the scribe's attentions. The scribe's rape followed the same pattern, but he lasted longer than the assistant, and seemed to revel even more in his young victim's debasement.

When he left, the apprentice returned again, followed by the maid from earlier. She carried another tray, which she placed on the table. She could not resist a glance at the beautiful, young witch spread out on the sloping table, and she gasped loudly when she saw her lewdly displayed sex, with her sore, bruised cunt still dripping a mixture of reddish fluids onto the surface of the table. She ran out of the room with her head in her hands.

Chapter 9 - Another Night in the Tower

The apprentice wiped Bella's bright red face with a soothing damp cloth. She looked up at him with her bright, tearful, green eyes. “Please help me,” she whimpered.

“There, there, girlie. No need to fret. It's just you and me again, now, for the whole of the night. I've got us some food and some more mead, 'cos I know 'ow much you liked that last night. We'll 'ave some food and I'll let you rest a little, and when you've got your energy back I'll fuck you. I'll be real gentle with you as long as you make an effort to pleasure me good. That's fair ain't it, girlie?”

“No. I don't want to be fucked again! I hurt too much. Please don't fuck me. Please help me, please let me go.”

“Look, girlie. We've been through all this before. I'm goin' to fuck you, and I'm not goin' to help you escape. They'd kill me. If you don't change your tune, you and me are goin' to fall out and I'll make things real bad for you. You don't want that now do you, girlie?”

“No, but I don't want to be fucked. I'm scared.”

“I expect you are scared, girlie. But there ain't much I can do about that. I'll clean your cunny up now and then you can 'ave some food. I bet you're glad you've 'ad your cherry popped at long last, aren't you, girlie?”

“No. I didn't want to be fucked. It hurts so much,” wept the poor, wretched girl.

The apprentice wiped the cocktail of blood, cum and grease from her cunt. He opened her raw sex lips and carefully, almost gently cleaned her love channel with his cold cloth. Bella moaned a little at his touch, and he liked that. When he was finished he picked up his jar of tallow and spread it liberally along her slit and in between her lips. His aim was to have many fulfilling fucks during the night, and he knew it would help to keep her cunny in reasonable condition. If she was too dry, he would tear her and then he couldn't use her again without causing injury, and his master would not like that.

He wiped his sticky hands on his cloth and set about eating his supper. He had chatted enthusiastically to the young maid and persuaded her to give him extra rations as well as the mead. He promised himself that he'd fuck her good before he left the Duke's home. He picked up a bowl of broth and some bread and tucked in. When he had finished most of it he offered the remaining broth to Bella, tipping the bowl at her lips as she slurped it down greedily. Some spilt over her pretty cheeks, so he wiped it off her gently. As before, she thanked him politely, in spite of what she knew he was going to do to her. Finally he drank a cup of mead, again giving Bella the last drops. He left plenty for later in the long night to come.

He sat in his big chair, with his feet on a stool and allowed ten minutes for the food to settle. Then he walked over to Bella and gently squeezed her sore right tit, disturbing her rudely from her rest.

“No. Please don't,” whimpered the girl again.

“I can't 'elp what your sexy, little body is doing to my John Thomas, now can I, girlie? Besides, you still need plenty more 'oly seed in that cunny of yours to frighten the Devil away. No, you and me are goin' to have a good time tonight, ain't we, girlie? You remember to wiggle that sexy arse of yours and try and keep in time with me, and we'll get on fine, girlie.”

Bella looked up at him in misery as a tear welled in her eye and trickled slowly down her cheek.

He stripped off his clothes completely, safe in the knowledge that the door was locked and he would not be disturbed.

He clambered on top of the sloping table, his knees either side of the prone girl. He sat on her tummy, as he had the night before, and pulled on his cock. He flopped it down on her chest and shifted his position so the tip of his cock was just under the girl's pretty, trembling chin. She looked down her nose at the boy's lifeless member on the top of her chest.

“Remember this, girlie?”

She nodded slowly.

He moved back down her body a little, rubbing the bottom of his shaft on her breastbone. It began to harden. He grabbed her tits as he had the previous night and squeezed them harder now. She winced in pain but did not scream. His prick swelled as he tweaked her bright pink nipples. She grimaced and gave out a low moan. He pulled on the buds between his fingers, tugging her nipples upwards and stretching her lovely boobs into taught cones. He released them and smiled as her tits bounced back into her chest and regained their previous form.

Bella didn't know quite what to make of the boy's game with her tits. It hurt a little, but not much compared to her previous tortures and his touch was really fairly gentle. She thought she might even enjoy such a game in different circumstances, when she wasn't chained up in a strange prison. She wondered when he was going to fuck her.

He bent over and kissed her slender neck. He teased her smooth skin with his tongue and she twisted to allow him easier access. He sucked hard at her tight flesh and scraped the surface gently with his teeth. When he finished he raised his head, leaving a wet, red mark on the side of her neck. He smiled at the girl, who looked back up at him in puzzlement. What was he doing to her?

His cock had stiffened further and was almost ready. He slipped down her bound body and sat between her widely spread thighs. He delved into her greasy sex, delicately peeling apart her lips and seeking out her clit. Bella groaned louder as he gently pulled at her love bud. She knew this was the most sensitive part of her sex, as she had found out just a few weeks previously, but she had never felt the kind of sensation this boy was giving her now. A wave of sexual energy flooded from her crotch to her brain and Bella moaned her arousal. She writhed on the table, twisting her hips one way and then the other as the boy fiddled with her bud, his own cock growing harder by the second. Finally, he released the moaning girl's clit and threw his body forward on top of hers. He plunged his aching cock deep into her greased pussy as her body went rigid.

“Relax, girlie. Wiggle those hips again and get in time,” he whispered in her cute, little ear. He grabbed her shoulders and rode her, trying to move her body in rhythm with his own energetic thrusts.

Bella twisted her hips and arched her back, trying to match the boy's fast pumping. Her pussy ached and she found it impossible to enjoy her fucking, in spite of the boy's efforts to arouse her. She cried in despair, partly at her desperate situation, partly at her own inability to satisfy the kindly, young apprentice, but mostly at the stabbing pain that accompanied every pistoning thrust of his cock into her sore, stretched pussy. The boy carried on regardless of the girl's suffering, pulling down hard on her bony shoulders as he drove his rock hard cock as deep as he could into her tight, slick cunt. The girl's bloodied bum cheeks scraped back and forth along the table, adding to her discomfort as the boy used his knees and feet for leverage. The old table creaked with his efforts as the joints in the wood loosened under his strong, jerky thrusts. On and on he continued. The girl's cries became shriller, but that just encouraged him further as he looked excitedly down on her beautiful, flushed, tear stained features. “Come on, girlie. Come on!” he encouraged her.

After some minutes of hard but unco-ordinated rutting, the boy finally slowed and rested on top her, his throbbing cock still buried deep within the girl. He released her shoulders and pushed his torso up with his strong arms. A bead of sweat dropped from his nose onto the face of the panting girl below, splashing on her smooth, rosy cheek. She grimaced and looked back at him. The intense sparkle she saw in his eyes frightened her, and she quickly looked away again. After just a few seconds he started pumping again, but more slowly, and the girl groaned in pain. He moaned loudly as he thrust deep into the girl's tight sex and Bella felt yet another dose of holy cum spurt into her womb.

He collapsed on top of the bound, shivering girl.

“I'm sorry,” she sobbed. “It hurts so much. I'm sorry.”

The boy climbed off. “Not to worry, girlie. You tried, and it was our first time. We'll 'ave another go in a minute. You'll get the 'ang of it, girlie,” he gasped, a little out of breath.

He walked away into the shadows to tidy himself and replace his cloak. He took a huge draught of mead and gave some to Bella who politely drank down the sweet liquid. She was getting used to its taste, if not the strange effect it had on her. She belched loudly and the boy laughed at her embarrassment.

He sat in his chair and dozed. He had known the girl would be a good fuck, and her lovely pussy had certainly been tight. Her body was very sexy, with great tits and she sure wriggled about. Yes, that had been pretty good. Now, if he could just get her to improve her timing.

Bella too fell into another fitful, nightmare filled slumber. She felt that awful needle piercing her beautiful body again and again, and she twitched and moaned in her sleep. Finally the needle approached her left eye, appearing bigger and bigger as it came closer. She tried to close her eyelid and to move her head to avoid its horrid, shiny, fine point, but she couldn't. Her heart beat faster and faster as certain blindness and excruciating pain came closer and closer until the tip of the needle touched the watery surface of her vulnerable eyeball. She screamed and woke with a start; fresh, cold sweat covering her body. She panted and tried to control her pounding heartbeat and burst into tears.

Her piercing scream had woken the boy. He looked around the shadowy room, and was relieved to see no intruder there. He got up slowly and walked over to the shaking, sobbing girl.

“What's up, girlie, bad dream?” he asked. Bella nodded her head sadly.

“That 'appens, girlie. I've 'eard all sorts of screams in the middle of the night from witches locked up in their cells. Awful wailings as if they're already burnin' at the stake.”

He walked over to a window and peered into the night outside.

“Looks like the guys are back. There are at least four new witches with 'em by the looks of it. That'll be company for you soon, girlie. And our equipment's 'ere too. Things is taking shape nicely.”

He looked on at the activity below, being supervised by the Grand Inquisitor's assistant. He hoped they would work through the night to set up the interrogation equipment, or the newcomers might want to fuck the young witch lying here next to him. Some were senior to him, and besides, he'd had one turn with the girl, so he couldn't complain if others now wanted to use her. She'd be busy by the morning; that was for sure. His cock rustled under his open cloak.

“Right then, girlie. Time to try again. Just relax a bit more this time and ride with me, girlie.”

Bella looked up at him, a little shocked.

“I'm sorry. I really don't want to. Please just leave me alone.”

“Listen, girlie. Its my duty to fuck you regular tonight and fill your bedevilled body with 'oly seed. I've told you that before. Now, just get yourself used to that idea and sort yourself out. I'm trying to 'elp you, but if you don't want that, I'll just fetch me whip and stripe them pretty boobies of yours until you agree to give me a good ride. Is that what you want, girlie?”

“No. I'm sorry. It's just that it hurts so much,” wept the girl. She could not believe the young apprentice would beat her, and on her sore tits too, but he certainly seemed to mean it.

“Stop moaning, girlie. Come on, let's get on with it.”

He checked the girl's sex and found it still wet with the cocktail of fluids from their earlier coupling. He climbed onto the table and knelt between her thighs with his cock just rubbing her raw sex lips. This time there would be no foreplay for the miserable girl. He rubbed up and down her slit for just a few seconds until his cock was rock hard and then he grabbed her hips and lifted her slight frame easily above the surface of the table. He shuffled forwards a little to achieve the optimum position for a deep penetration and then yanked her hips towards him as he thrust hard with his pelvis.

The girl screamed as the boy's cock parted her sore lips and plunged deep into her in one long, vicious movement. His strong hands pulled her body to and fro like a rag doll, and this time Bella had no illusions about trying to enjoy her fucking. This was brutal rape. She curled her toes and clenched her fists as she screamed at the boy.

“No. Please. No. Stop. Please. You're hurting me!” she yelled.

The boy smiled lustfully down at her and continued his muscular fucking of the young witch. His cock slurped rapidly in and out of her stretched sex, still well lubricated by the tallow and her own fresh blood. He loved the way her perky boobs were thrown about by her body's involuntary, jerky movements. “If they were much bigger, they'd be hitting her in the face,” he thought.

Bella felt the skin on the back of her shoulders begin to burn as the friction grew from their rough scraping up and down the table. She sobbed and implored the boy to stop. She looked up at him through tear filled eyes but saw only that same sadistic lust in his face that had so frightened her earlier.

The apprentice dug his fingers deeper into her slippery bum cheeks to keep his grip firm as he further increased his rate of pumping. He was revelling in the girl's suffering now and didn't want to give her any respite at all. He kept up his brutal and deep fucking of the wailing girl as long as he possibly could; enjoying also the rhythmic creaking of the old table. Eventually he had to bow to the inevitable and spurt his second load of the night into her lovely, young body.

This time he climbed off the girl without a word and replaced his cloak. He took another drink of mead, but offered none to the crying girl lying chained to her table. He sat in his chair and put his feet up, already contemplating how he would take the girl next time.

The constant, quiet sobbing of the young witch didn't prevent the boy quickly falling into another deep and peaceful sleep. Bella, meanwhile, was distraught. This boy, who had seemed so nice, had taken her so brutally against her will, had hurt her without a care, it seemed. Who now could she turn to for help in this hellish place?

A few hours later the apprentice stirred. His cock was hardening again and he looked over to the naked, chained girl. She was sleeping now; exhaustion having overtaken even her pain and despair. He took off his cloak, stood up and walked towards her. The girl's resting body lay splayed out in front of him. Her skin was sweaty and dirty, with dried bloody streaks from his master's needlework still in evidence on her limbs, the top of her chest and her tummy. No doubt the back of her body was similarly stained. Her nipples still looked to be swollen and were clearly very sore indeed, standing out like red lights on her pale boobs. Her exposed sex was red raw, from the needle and her recent fuckings, and a puddle of blood, mixed with some of the tallow and his own semen was slowly soaking into the rough wood of the table.

He walked to where her head lay twitching slightly in her deep, tortured sleep. Her mouth was open and her lips moved as if she were trying to talk to him. Suddenly she thrashed her head from side to side in a nightmare of pain. He smiled. She looked beautiful to him, and in need of another good, hard fuck.

He walked quietly across the room and returned with a length of heavy chain. He silently unfastened the chain binding her wrists to the ring set in the table above her head and attached his new chain in its place. Then he clipped the two chains together to provide a few feet of slack in her fastenings. He moved now to her spread ankles and released them completely.

As his cock rose to attention he grabbed the girl's legs just behind her bent knees and pulled her quickly down the table until her new chains clanked at full extension. The girl woke with a scream as the sudden assault shattered her fitful sleep. Her sore buttocks and shoulders burnt in fiery pain as they scraped down the rough, old table.

“Wakey, wakey, girlie,” greeted the grinning apprentice at the end of her table. “You looked so sexy lying there, I just had to come and say hello again.”

Bella looked down at him, puzzled and confused, not yet fully awake.

“I've just extended your chains, girlie, to freshen things up a bit. I 'ope you don't mind.”

Bella found that her bum was now perched right on the edge of the table with her legs dangling over. She realised her ankles had been freed, but had no way of closing her legs with the boy standing between them. Her bum cheeks soon started to ache as the rough table edge gnawed into her pierced flesh.

The apprentice was already rubbing his cock against Bella's slit and she lay her head back down and prepared for another rough rape. He entered her again without ceremony. This time, in his standing position has was able to use his weight to help his thrusts go deep into the whimpering girl. His hands once again firmly gripped her hips and his strong arms pulled the girl's slim body briskly to and fro in time with his energetic pumping.

Bella felt her sex stretch again as he pumped her painfully sore love channel. She felt the drying blood and tallow inside her mix with fresh lubrication that quickly eased the initial burning sensation. She sobbed and blubbed tired entreaties for her rapist to stop, but she knew he would not heed her wishes. She kicked weakly at his thighs with her unbound feet but he ignored her feeble struggles, and pumped all the more vigorously into her.

His peaceful sleep had rejuvenated the young apprentice and he felt great as he powerfully fucked the squirming, sobbing girl. Her young cunt was still tight and her sexy body responsive, even if her writhing and wriggling was involuntary. He was really enjoying this long night with the girl, and he knew she would never be this good again. He pumped and pumped and pumped; his stamina levels high and his libido strong. The old, overworked table creaked louder than ever as the joints strained under his assault and it skidded with a screech across the stone floor towards the far wall.

At last the boy's legs twitched with the first small signs of cramp and he knew he would have to end this marathon fucking soon. He curled his toes and stretched his hamstrings and calves in a bid to keep the cramp at bay, but he understood it would eventually cripple him. The girl was moaning and groaning constantly, her head right back and her tits bobbling beautifully. He wished he could carry on all night, but another, sharper pain in his right calf made him grimace.

He slowed as his cramp got worse. He had to cum now. He needed an extra stimulation from his sexy, but passive victim. He leant forward and reached out to her slick, left breast. He fumbled for her swollen, red nipple and pinched it as hard as he could. The girl screamed and bucked violently; her head shot up and she looked in anger and agony at her attacker. He twisted her nipple in his iron grip and she wailed in pain and threw her torso sharply round to try and relieve the pressure on her tortured bud. He groaned in pleasure and spurted his holy seed yet again into her writhing body. That hit the spot!

He walked a little stiffly from the girl and collapsed in his chair as the cramps took hold. He was breathing hard but was flushed with a delicious tingling. He couldn't wait to recover his strength and do it all over again. He pulled his cloak over himself and settled down.

Bella had used her new freedom to roll onto her side and curl into a protective ball with her back to her attacker. She had slid her bruised body carefully up the table and used the slack in her chains to allow herself to caress and comfort her throbbing nipple. It felt good to be able to close her legs again after all this time and she rubbed the tops of her thighs together to soothe the pain in her ravaged sex. In spite of her awful ordeal, she soon fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 10 – The Grand Inquisitor Returns

It seemed like just a few minutes after she fell asleep that Bella was roused again by the apprentice. He gently shook her shoulder like he was tenderly waking his lover and he whispered quietly in her ear, “Wake up, girlie. It's nearly morning.”

She stirred slowly and smiled at the boy, forgetting momentarily his rough treatment of her. “The Grand Inquisitor will be 'ere soon, girlie,” he continued. “'E'll take your arse this time. Best get you ready.”

In her sleepiness, Bella didn't comprehend the apprentice's words. She stretched her aching body and yawned loudly, enjoying the golden rays of the dawn as they warmed her naked body. The boy offered her a cup of water and she drank thirstily. He then gave her a few bites of his remaining bread and she took that, washing it down with more water.

“I need to pee,” she informed the boy.

He rushed to get the bucket and put it on the table. “Hurry up then, girlie. There's enough slack in your chains to squat there and do it.”

She struggled into position and tinkled her yellow pee into the bucket. He quickly took it away again.

“Right, girlie. You lie down on your front now,” he ordered.

Bella looked at him a bit puzzled, but obeyed and slowly turned onto her hands and knees and then lay on the table, resting on her elbows with her toes just over the bottom edge. She looked up at the boy questioningly, grimacing as her sore, stiff body ached with every movement.

“Come on, girlie. Move yourself down a bit. 'Ow's the master supposed to get to your pretty, little arse 'ole with you like that!” he grumbled impatiently.

Swallowing hard as the realisation dawned on her of what was going to happen next, Bella reluctantly squirmed a little way down the table, until the edge dug into the fronts of her thighs.

The apprentice was unimpressed and grasped her legs and pulled her roughly down until the girl was bent at the waist. She howled as her sore tits were cruelly scraped down the rough table, her poor nipples leaving a thin trail of slimy puss in their wakes.

He grasped one ankle at a time and tied it to the bottom of each table leg leaving her widely splayed with her arse cheeks beautifully presented and her sore sex still dripping a reddish liquid onto the floor between her bound ankles. He looked at the sight in front of him and his cock twitched yet again. He just had to fuck her one more time, but he knew he had to be quick about it.

The apprentice ran to fetch his water bucket and quickly rinsed out the cloth. He washed the blood and dirt from her lovely, round arse cheeks and the tops of her smooth, pale thighs. He rinsed his cloth and parted her buttocks to reveal her puckered, little arse hole. He looked at the tiny smears of dried blood from his master's intricate pattern of piercings and wiped them away, leaving just the sore puncture wounds. Finally he wrapped the cloth round his little finger and inserted it into her tight, little hole to clean it out as far as her could reach. God, this was a tight hole, as tight as any he had known, and the way the young witch wiggled her arse was just incredible. The Grand Inquisitor would struggle to fit his cock in here, but once he did he would be in paradise!

The boy stood back to admire his work. Her virgin arse hole was almost ready now, but it certainly needed some lubrication to make it accessible. He quickly fetched his jar of tallow and dipped in a finger. He spread the cold grease gently around her twitching arse hole and then worked a little inside the tight ring of muscle. The girl whimpered again, now fully understanding the nature of her next assault.

The apprentice looked again at the beautifully exhibited backside of the young witch. He knew he couldn't fuck her arse until his seniors had used her, but her sex still enticed him greatly, twitching there between her legs, still dripping with her own blood and his semen. He looked at his cock, now hard again, and wondered if he had time before his master wanted to take the witch.

He shrugged off his cloak and stepped close up behind her twitching, bound body. He quickly fingered her sore sex and then guided his hard cock towards it. He heard a sobbing squeal from the centre of the table as he entered her forcefully and started another long, hard, pounding fuck of the witch's tight cunt. He knew he didn't have very long, and this was most likely his last chance of a really good fuck with this pretty girl. So he gripped her bent hips and pumped her quicker and stronger than ever, pushing the old, creaking table a few more inches across the room with every thumping hard thrust of his pelvis.

Bella buried her crying eyes in her chained arms and sobbed and wailed as he fucked her for the fourth time in just a few hours. She thought her burning sex would catch fire as his thick cock scoured her tender love channel yet again. Quite quickly, this time, it was over and she felt him cum inside her and withdraw his limp cock from her sopping cunt.

The apprentice wiped his gleaming cock on his cloth, noticing that the liquid covering it was redder in colour this time. It did not surprise him. He watched as drops of the girl's blood continued to drip into the floor from her raw sex lips, but made no attempt to clean her up. The Grand Inquisitor will have expected him to fuck the witch regularly during the night and fill her with his holy seed. His only interest now would be in her virgin arse hole, and as long as that was clean and greased he would be satisfied. He would not wish to use her soiled cunt again, preferring instead first use of the new, young witches recently captured.

The boy tidied his dress and unlocked the door to await the imminent arrival of his master.

Within just a few minutes the door opened and the Grand Inquisitor strode purposefully into the room, followed again by his devoted scribe.

He walked quickly up to the table where the young witch was bound; her round, pale buttocks deliciously presented to his gaze; her smooth, taught thighs spread and chained and quivering in dreadful anticipation.

“I see you have thoroughly impregnated the witch during the night,” he remarked to his bowed apprentice, as he noted her raw, dripping sex. “Good work, boy.”

He carefully pulled apart the girl's bum cheeks to expose her tiny, puckered arse hole. He noted the added lubrication, which he would need in order to penetrate this tight orifice. Bella squealed and wiggled her hips delightfully at his touch. His cock twitched in excitement.

“Well, witch, do you now admit your bedevilment and seek salvation?”

“Please, sir. I beg of you. I am not a witch,” pleaded the petrified girl. “I have no Devil inside me, sir, I promise. Please, sir, let me go. Let me go back to my little cottage. Please don't hurt me any more.”

“Silent, witch! I see the Devil is still strong within you. I will now fill the witch's anal tract with holy seed to drive the Devil from this poor creature,” he stated, nodding at the scribe to ensure the process was properly captured on his scroll. “Leave me while I perform this holy task.”

Again, the scribe and the apprentice left the room, leaving the sobbing girl alone with the Grand Inquisitor.

He again parted her soft, firm bum cheeks as the girl continued to beg him. “Please, sir, please don't touch me there. Please,” she cried. The Grand Inquisitor ignored her as he concentrated on the arse fucking he was about to enjoy. He loved these tight, virgin arse holes and he licked his lips as he spied again the twitching muscles of the girl's sphincter. He knew the pain of his thick cock penetrating her would be horrendous enough, but with the added discomfort of the needle pricks he had so carefully placed around her anus, he knew she would be in agony, and he in turn, in ecstasy!

The Grand Inquisitor pulled his stiffening cock from his flowing robes and rubbed it up and down the girl's spread arse crack, leaving a thin, slimy trail of pre-cum behind. The girl was screaming now, in dreadful anticipation of the horror to come, but he didn't even notice her screams.

With his thick, stubby thumbs the Grand Inquisitor further parted the screaming girl's arse cheeks before he carefully placed the tip of his rock hard cock at the greasy centre of her trembling arse hole. Bella screamed louder than ever at this intimate touch. She clenched her fists and hammered them down on the hard table in desperate distress, clanking her unforgiving chains. She deliberately tightened the muscles surrounding her anus as she fought hard to escape her inevitable fate.

The Grand Inquisitor pushed, letting his body weight fall forward to ease his thick member into the girl's tight, slick anus. His eyes sparkled and he gave a deep grunt as the girl's taught muscles defiantly refused to let him in.

“Aaaah! The Devil inside you seeks to keep me out!” he shouted. “There's no doubt that I have found his hiding place in your witch's body now, girl!”

He thrust harder this time, firmly gripping the girl's sexy hips for added leverage. Still Bella fought to keep his rampant cock from entering her anus, groaning now in her exertion; her face a bright crimson as she lay chained to the table.

The Grand Inquisitor withdrew his cock from the girl's arse cheeks and pulled his witchfinder's awl from his cloak pocket. He would have to weaken the girl's anal ring a little to gain entry. Still, that would only add to the vile witch's suffering.

Bella breathed a sigh of relief as she felt his cock leave the entrance to her anal passage, but she was soon screaming anew as she felt the familiar, cold, sharp tip of her assailant's awful needle prick the muscle of her anus. She felt every fraction of an inch, and it was sheer agony, as the needle entered the muscle and drove deeper and deeper; much deeper than the Inquisitor's earlier prickings of that highly sensitive part of her body. The dreadful needle withdrew equally slowly, only to enter again on the other side of her anus and prick deep, deep into that muscle. Bella screamed continuously, tears flooding down her scarlet cheeks as she writhed in a new deep agony.

Four times the Inquisitor carefully, deliberately and slowly pierced the defiant girl's anal ring with his sharp, thin needle. He licked his lips with every prick, his eyes staring unblinking at the passage of his trusty needle into the screaming girl's quivering flesh; his prick remaining rock hard throughout. He noted the bloody trickles from each of his fresh piercings and how they would add to the lubrication of the girl's tight anus.

At last he wiped his bloody needle and replaced it in his deep cloak pocket. He saw the girl was quieter now, sobbing and breathing heavily, with some of her strength to resist now spent. He pulled her bum cheeks apart again and guided his cock towards its goal, waiting for her to react, which she did with a wail of futile protest. He pushed forward, leaning into the girl, and this time her weakened muscles gradually parted and he felt the tip of his cock begin to enter the girl's tight anus. She let out a heart wrenching scream; a dire mixture of agonised pain and profound defilement. He grinned in evil triumph as he pushed on harder, very slowly entering the girl, inch by agonising inch, as her straining muscles tore, irretrievably injured by his sadistic prodding. The tallow inserted in the girl by the apprentice seemed to do little to ease the Inquisitor's penetration as he forced his huge cock further into the girl's hot, tight arse.

The Grand Inquisitor stopped pushing with his cock half embedded in the screaming girl's back passage. Bella was now throwing her head around in utter despair; the feel of this monster's huge cock ripping slowly into her tight arse hole had been horrendous. The pain was excruciating, as the damaged muscles of her sphincter were stretched and torn, but it was the awful realisation of what this man was doing to her body, the unholy, unnatural debasement of her, that Bella could not comprehend or accept. For the first time Bella understood why the boy had told her she would welcome death when the time eventually came.

After savouring his victim's profound suffering for a few minutes, the Grand Inquisitor thrust again with a triumphant groan as his throbbing cock slowly continued its wondrous journey until it was fully imbedded in the screaming girl's arse. The gripping of her tight anus had been wonderfully stimulating and he knew he would not last long until he came. He wished he could see the agonised girl's tortured face, but he knew there would be time enough for that later when he supervised her questioning in the cellar. For now, her agonised screams and delicious squirming, together with her delightfully sensitive, tight anus gripping his rampant cock would be reward enough for his holy work.

He pulled out fractionally, gaining another high-pitched squeal from the distraught girl as her dry arse burnt with pain. Wow, was this girl tight! He thrust back again, and quickly pulled out a little further this time, grunting at the effort required to move his cock in her tightly gripping passage.

For Bella, the simple feeling of this monster's huge cock filling her arse was appalling. On top of that, every movement he made, either in or out, was agonising as the lining of her back passage stretched and tore and burnt with the dry friction. She hoped to pass out, but the darkness never came, just more tears, more pain and more degradation. She screamed yet again as the Inquisitor thrust back fully into her before pulling out even further. His juices were slicking her passage just a little now and her muscles were slackening, so his movements took less strength and caused Bella a little less pain.

The Grand Inquisitor sought hard to establish a rhythm with his arse fucking. He dug his fingers deep into the girl's sweaty flanks and started to pump in and out the full length of his monster cock; still slowly as her passage remained tight, but more smoothly now. He now felt he could continue longer than he had thought before cumming, and he savoured every scream the girl made as he pulled out and then thrust in again. This was turning out to be even better than he had expected.

For many minutes he fucked the wailing girl's arse, gradually increasing his tempo all the while until he was pumping her almost as hard as he had pumped her virgin cunt the day before. On and on he went, until Bella's cries of pain had subsided to exhausted whimpers and her head lay motionless between her chained arms. Her only movements were the sobbing heaving of her slumped shoulders and the agonised twitching of her tortured arse cheeks.

Finally, the Inquisitor knew he had to finish his glorious arse fucking of this pretty, young, virgin witch. He rested a moment deep within the trembling girl, until she responded by looking fearfully over her shoulder at her tormentor. The wonderful sight of her beautiful, crimson, tear-stained, agonised face brought him towards his climax, as he knew it would. He pulled out and began a last manic pounding of the girl's arse, to the loud accompaniment of her renewed screams of pain and distress, and the rhythmic creaking of the worn out, old, wooden table.

After a few more seconds the Grand Inquisitor groaned in sheer ecstasy as he pumped the young witch's bedevilled arse with huge spurts of his holy seed – surely more than enough to banish the fiercest Devil lurking deep in the girl's bowels.

He withdrew his limp cock at last and wiped its bloody, slimy length on the apprentice's cloth. He crossed himself and bade the Devil depart the witch. Before he left her, he noted the steady stream of bright red blood dripping from the girl's arse to the floor below. He decided to prohibit the further use of her arse for the time being, lest she bleed to death before she could repent and be burned at the stake.

The Grand Inquisitor opened the door and allowed his assistant, scribe and apprentice to enter. He issued his instructions, and the scribe dutifully recorded how the Devil had resisted the Inquisitor's penetration of her bedevilled arse. Then they all left, save the young apprentice. They would have to wait for their time to savour this young witch's exquisite arse.

Chapter 11 – Time to Rest

The boy wrinkled his nose at the sight of the blood still dripping freely from the sobbing, chained girl's arse. He poured a mug of mead and took a mouthful before approaching the girl's bowed head. He gently stroked her hair until she looked up at him with her beautiful, green, tear-filled eyes. He put the mug to her lips and she gulped down the sweet liquid until the mug was empty. Then she buried her face again in her outstretched arms and continued sobbing.

Suddenly there was a quiet knock on the door and the boy walked over to open it. The Duke's pretty, dark-haired maid entered, carrying a large tray. He smiled warmly at the nervous girl and bade her enter. The maid looked anxiously in the direction of the bound witch, and gasped audibly at the shocking sight that greeted her. She rushed to deposit the tray on a table and turned to leave. The boy stood in front of her, smiling broadly.

“Now, now, girlie. There's no need to be in such an 'urry,” he told her. “That young witch over there can't 'urt you. She's well bound down and powerless 'ere. Why don't you stay a while and we can get to know each other. Share a cup of mead with me, girlie, and relax a little. You're a pretty little thing and I'm sure we could 'ave some fun together. The old Duke won't mind, I'm sure.”

“No, sir. I got chores to do. The Duke told me not to get involved with the likes of you, sir,” replied the flustered girl as she dodged around the boy and made for the door.

He grabbed at her arm, and fastened his grip on the sleeve of the maid's dress, holding her tight.

“Not so fast, girlie,” he said, his smile fading. “Just what 'as the Duke said to you about me?”

“N-n-nothing, sir,” replied the girl in a panic now. “He just warned me that nasty things can happen to folk who get involved with the Inquisitor. Please let me go, sir. I must get on with my chores.”

“Only witches and the servants of the Devil need fear the Grand Inquisitor, girl. Are you one of those?” asked the boy gravely.

“No, sir. No. No. Of course not. No, I'm a God fearing girl, me, sir.”

“Then stay a while and keep me company, girl.”

“But the Duke is expecting me to clean his room, sir. And then I must prepare to serve lunch. I'm sorry, sir, I really need to get on with my chores.”

The boy still held the trembling maid fast. It was obvious that her fear for him would preclude any willing liaison, but she was certainly a tasty morsel and he was tempted to take her anyway. After all, the pretty witch chained to the table would not be able to entertain him now. He had so looked forward to fucking her little arse today, and his twitching cock reminded him of his high level of desire for more fucking. Still, the frightened girl was sure to run to the Duke if he delayed her, and he knew relations with the old man were strained, what with them taking over his precious cellar and rounding up all the local girls over the past few days. Best not antagonise him any further at present. Besides, this pretty maid wasn't going anywhere and he'd certainly have other opportunities to try her out.

He released the terrified girl's arm. “Off you go then, girlie,” he said with a smile. “Don't keep the good Duke waiting. Give him my best wishes, and I'll see you later.”

Without a word, the maid rushed off out of the door and scampered away down the narrow staircase.

The boy sighed as he thought of the missed opportunity, but he had work to do himself. He examined the contents of the tray brought in by the maid and was pleased with the food and drink supplied. He also noticed a healing poultice, which he knew he would have to shove up the young witch's arse in the place of his redundant cock. Still, that could wait until he had breakfast.

The apprentice sat down and ate a good meal, oblivious to the quiet sobbing and occasional moaning emanating from the chained witch nearby. When he had finished, he dozed for a while, finally waking near lunchtime, just in time for a snack and another drink of the delicious mead.

Eventually the boy stood up and stretched, yawning loudly enough to wake the fitfully sleeping girl still chained on the wooden table beside him.

“Hello, girlie,” he greeted her. “Feel better after that sleep?”

Bella groaned in her continuing pain and discomfort. “No. I hurt so much,” she wined.

The boy approached her, pleased to see that her arse had stopped leaking blood at last. He offered her a hunk of bread, but Bella found it difficult to eat in her bound position, in spite of her acute hunger.

“OK, girlie. I'll tell you what we'll do. The Grand Inquisitor 'as told me not to fuck you today, as your arse is too sore. I'll put the poultice up it to 'eal it for you and then I'll loosen your chains so you can feed yourself. In return, you can give me some relief with that pretty mouth of yours. OK?”

Bella didn't really understand much of what the boy said. “Please help me. Please let me go. I hurt so much. I just want to go home,” she wept.

The boy ignored her and fetched a cloth, which he dipped in fresh water. He examined her red raw, bloodied arse and carefully wiped the blood and cum from her bruised skin. Bella squealed loudly at his touch on her tender flesh, but the boy ignored that too. Finally the boy rolled up the poultice as tight as he could and pushed it firmly up her ravaged arse hole. Bella screamed loudly as she felt as if her poor arse was being fucked again as the boy buried more and more of the dressing inside her until just a tiny corner of the poultice was visible. He wiped away any more fresh blood that had leaked from her arse, and took the opportunity to clean her sore cunt up as well.

When he had finished his task, the boy released Bella's widely spread ankles from their chains and helped push her up onto the table so she could turn onto her side. He gave her some bread and water, allowing her to feed herself with the movement the slack chains allowed her hands.

“'E's very careful, the Grand Inquisitor, girlie,” said the boy to the chewing girl. “'E's never 'ad a witch die before they got to the flames. That would be very bad, as the flames is what cleanses the witch. That's why 'e won't let anybody take your pretty arse today, in case you bleeds to death. It's a pity, mind. I was really lookin' forward to that today. Still, maybe you'll be alright tomorrow for that, or else I'll just 'ave to find meself another young witch to fuck. I've 'eard there's quite a stock growing downstairs in the cellars. The boys 'ave been very successful roundin' up witches from the villages round 'ere. Later today we'll take you down to join 'em.”

“How do you know they're all witches?” asked Bella between mouthfuls of bread.

“We ask them, silly. They always admit it in the end. It just takes one to admit it and give us the names of all their accomplices. They're always willin' to do that once we put them to the question. You'll admit it yourself, soon enough. You've denied it so far, but we've not really started on you yet and we both know you're a witch and it's only the Devil inside you stoppin' you from admittin' it, girlie.”

“But I'm not a witch. I've told you that!”

“We've been through this before. Course you're a witch, girlie. You'll admit it soon enough when we put you to the question downstairs in the cellar.”

Bella wondered fearfully exactly what he meant, but thought it best not to ask. She ate her bread and drank her water before peeing painfully into the bucket fetched over by the boy. She curled up to sleep some more, but the apprentice had a different idea.

“Oh no, girlie. You've had enough beauty sleep now. You said you'd give me some relief, and my poor cock's about bursting!”

“You can't fuck me, the Inquisitor told you not to.”

“'E told me I could use your mouth, you cheeky witch. And that's what I'm going to do. Now kneel and get yourself ready or I'll skin your arse with an 'orse whip, girlie.”

Still puzzled, Bella thought it better to do what he said, and she slowly manoeuvred her sore, aching body into position as the boy clambered onto the table beside her. He too knelt in front of her and pulled out his half-erect cock before dangling it in front of Bella's shocked face.

“Now, girlie, you use your 'ands to get it nice and 'ard and then your tongue to keep it excited and your lips to suck it until I comes in your pretty, little mouth. And then you swallows all my 'oly seed to poison the Devil in your tummy. You got that, girlie?”

“No. I can't put that horrid thing in my mouth. I can't,” wailed Bella. “I won't even touch it, it's horrible!”

The apprentice quickly grabbed Bella's hair at the top of her head and twisted violently, pulling several long strands from her scalp and raising her pretty, freckled face towards his. “If you don't do what I say, you little witch, I'll whip your arse. Would you rather that?” he hissed.

“No. I'm sorry. Please,” cried Bella as she gingerly gripped his shaft with the ends of her fingers. She sobbed as she found herself doing something she found disgusting, but what choice did she have? It was obvious the boy was serious about whipping her if she didn't comply, and the thought of that was too awful to consider.

Bella followed the boy's detailed instructions as best she could, stroking the shaft of his cock up and down, with particular emphasis on the underside of his member, until she felt it grow thicker and harder in her tiny hands. She looked at the state of her lovely fingernails; still intact but filthy dirty. Every night in her old cottage she had dipped them in a special solution for five minutes to keep them strong, healthy and lustrous. She never believed she would ever use them for this purpose, but the boy certainly liked it when she scored the underside of his cock with her strong, sharp nails.

When he was ready, the boy ordered Bella to take his cock in her mouth. She hesitated and found his hands again tighten in her hair and pull her head towards him until her lips touched the damp, sticky tip of his cock. She tried to twist away, but the boy was too strong and determined. “Open it!” he scowled.

Bella opened her mouth slightly and the boy pulled her head aggressively forward, forcing her to accept his shaft in her mouth. “Use your fucking tongue, girlie, and don't you dare bite!” he spat at her.

Bella timidly touched his shaft with the very tip of her tongue, revolting in the strange taste in her mouth. The boy jerked his reaction to the wondrous touch and groaned his pleasure. “Oh, yes, girlie. That's good, keep doing that,” he gasped. Bella touched him again and he groaned anew. The boy started to push the girl's head away from him and then rock her forward again as he started to fuck her lovely, virgin mouth.

The feel of the girl's lips around his thick shaft delighted the boy, and the occasional and random touches of her little tongue were simply sensational. He doubted the girl really knew what she was doing, but the effect was heavenly. He soon settled into a lovely, gentle rocking rhythm as the girl gave him a blow-job he would remember for ever. The boy quickly forgot his disappointment at missing out on her arse fucking and his rejection by the sexy, young maid.

For Bella, the taste in her mouth was foul, and she took a while to get her breathing regular through her nose, and the experience was unpleasant, but it was better than being pricked with that awful needle, and certainly not as bad as being fucked up her arse, and she assumed a whipping would much more painful. Thus, Bella accepted her situation and tried to please the boy as best she could by following his instructions and repeating any little acts that seemed to get a good reaction. She used her tongue more and more and the boy gradually loosened his painfully tight grip on her hair and allowed Bella to pleasure him.

The apprentice was determined to make this last as long as he could. He looked down at the face of the young witch and saw her flushing cheeks and flaring nostrils. He smiled as he enjoyed her. Eventually, though, he knew it would have to end, and he felt the pressure rising quickly in his cock. He gripped the girl's hair firmly and thrust his cock deep down her throat until his balls slammed into her pretty chin. He ignored her desperate struggles and her snort of panic as his cock blocked her airways. “Swallow it all!” he shouted, hoping the girl would hear him and avoid choking. He held her firm as he spurted his load down the terrified girl's gullet, and noticed the muscles in her throat working hard to swallow his sperm quickly. When she had finished swallowing and was on the verge of asphyxiation he released her head and pulled his limp cock from her mouth.

Bella collapsed onto the table and gasped for breath, wheezing as her airways slowly cleared. Her face was now bright red, with her eyes streaming. Watery sperm seeped from her lips and dribbled onto her cheeks and chin. She coughed up some more phlegmy sperm and grabbed at the cup of water still nearby. She drank down huge mouthfuls to try and rid herself of the awful taste of the boy's cum and then belched long and loud.

“Well done, girlie. You're learning. You'll get used to the taste soon enough,” laughed the apprentice. Bella curled into a ball and closed her eyes. The boy returned to his comfy chair, put his feet up, and drifted off into a contented sleep, dreaming peacefully about his next wonderful fuck.

Chapter 12 – In the Duke's Cellar

A loud banging on the door disturbed the slumbering pair. The apprentice yawned and stretched before casually sauntering over to the door, while Bella woke with a start and stared anxiously towards the door.

The boy opened it, and two uniformed men entered. Bella noticed they were not clad in the Duke's fine livery, but in the sombre, black dress of the Grand Inquisitor's men.

“We're to take the witch to the cellar to be put to the question,” one stated to the boy.

“Very well. I'll come with you.”

“She's to be shown her fate and then left in a cell overnight to contemplate. She's not to be touched until morning. The Grand Inquisitor wishes to keep her until some of the other witches have been burned. That will increase the local peoples' hatred of the evil wench.”

“I understand. Are any of the witches downstairs pretty and available for fucking?”

“I heard you've had your fill of this little witch!” laughed the guard. “And you didn't think to share her with the likes of us! Still, there's plenty to go round now, though none are quite as pretty as this cute, little thing you've kept hidden away up here! Come on. Let's get the witch chained up and get her downstairs.”

The guards approached Bella and one grabbed her arms tightly while the other released her wrists from their manacles. They easily pulled the lightweight girl from her table and stood her on the cold, stone floor. Bella looked pleadingly at her captors, but noted no compassion in their eyes. They seemed fully concentrated on their task as a guard untangled the mass of heavy chains and manacles in his hands.

The other guard looked with interest at his captive. So this was the girl denounced by the Duke and who had brought the Grand Inquisitor and all his entourage to this sleepy rural setting. It was because of this girl that the cellar below had been commandeered and turned into a witches' prison filling rapidly with all the pretty, young girls of the neighbourhood. She was slim, very pretty with a nice body. She had obviously suffered a severe examination with the Inquisitor's needle, as the many bloody smears and scabs on her smooth skin testified. And she'd been well fucked, that was for sure. Still, he sighed, that was nothing compared to what would happen to her downstairs when the Inquisitor ordered his torturers to put her to the question. Even worse was likely to follow for the poor girl when she was handed back to the local populace for execution. They would surely seek the most appalling revenge on the girl before they burnt her. He thought for a moment of his own beautiful daughter back home and prayed she was safe.

The guard mumbled to himself as he tried to sort out the chains. Finally he picked up a large hinged ring and placed it round Bella's slim neck. It was a loose fit, but was small enough to prevent it slipping over the girl's head. It was heavy and rested painfully on the girl's collar bones as the guard fitted the bolts behind her neck to fasten the collar securely. Finally, he pulled her long hair out from where it had been trapped by the collar and allowed it to flow again down her back. At the front of the collar was a metal ring to which was attached a length of heavy chain that reached between her breasts and legs to the floor. Next, the guard picked up a set of manacles joined by a short length of lighter chain. These he fastened around the girl's wrists and he attached the centre link to a ring in the larger chain that hung from her collar. Finally came the ankle manacles, joined again by heavy chain. The centre link of this chain was attached to the end of the heavy chain hanging from her collar.

Bella put up no resistance to the fastening of her chains, having little strength or stomach for a fight against such overwhelming odds, and still unsure of what awaited her in the cellar below.

“Right. That's it. Let's go,” said one of the guards, and he pulled Bella by the arm towards the open door. The chains weighed heavy on the small girl, and Bella found movement difficult and painful. She found she had to use her hands to lift the heavy centre chain slightly to allow her feet to move. The heavy collar rubbed hard at her slender neck with every movement and the ankle manacles chaffed her already sore skin quite badly. As she took her first step she groaned at the sharp pain in her anus and begged for the guards to let her rest again. They paid no heed and half dragged the screaming girl to the door and down the tight, spiral staircase.

Once on the ground floor they walked for a while along a corridor before passing through a guarded door to another staircase, this time a wider stairway. After descending many short flights the group came up against a heavy wooden door. A guard knocked and a peep-hole opened. The guard exchanged greetings with someone behind the wooden door and it creaked slowly open. The intense heat and the awful, strong stench of human sweat piss and fear from inside hit Bella and shocked her. She had expected a former wine cellar to be cool and maybe a little musky, but this was a vile, smoky heat that scorched from this underground room. The guards pushed the girl quickly inside and the door creaked slowly closed behind them. Bella heard heavy bolts drawn quickly across the door.

Bella looked in shock at the sight that confronted her.

The old wine cellar had been transformed into a huge prison and interrogation room. The air was thick with smoke from numerous torches that lit the large room. The flickering light from the torches threw scudding shadows across the room from the numerous thick pillars that supported the low, vaulted ceiling and from the many items of large apparatus that filled much of the space between them. The smoke was augmented by charcoal braziers that stood around the room at various points, and was so thick that the girl could not clearly see the full length of the cavernous room. What she could see and hear, though, filled her with a new, morbid dread.

Along one side of the room was a grid of small cages, each no more than four feet square and made of wrought iron grills. There must have been at least twenty of these cages, and many held the huddled bodies of naked young girls, curled up on the bare stone floor. The only furnishings in the cages were buckets on the floor and chains hanging from the roof grills. One or two of the girls had been chained upright in their cages, and stood slumped painfully in their bonds. Some were groaning audibly.

In the main part of the room, most of the large items of apparatus seemed to be unused, but Bella could hear agonised screams coming from within the smoky depths. The screams were clearly female, and those producing them were evidently being tortured very painfully. Bella could make out a few shadows moving in the flickering light, and assumed them to be the torturers at work.

As her blood ran cold, Bella realised the guards had left her with the apprentice. He was speaking to a scribe who sat behind a wooden table by the door. He had a large number of scrolls in front of him and was thumbing through them. When he found the one he was seeking, he made a number of entries on the scroll. Then he turned to a large book, like a register, and made an entry there too. Only when he had finished, did he hand the apprentice a large key and wave him on, allowing him to take Bella into the room.

The boy guided Bella over towards the cages. As she walked deeper into the gloomy, smoky cellar Bella's eyes started to sting and she felt sick as the stench grew stronger – apart from the burning torches and braziers she noted fearfully the awful stink of sweat, vomit, piss and shit – and even the terrifying stench of burning human flesh hit her twitching nostrils as another scream of agony assaulted her ears.

“This is where you'll stay from now on, girlie,” the apprentice told her cheerfully. “Yours is at the other end. I'll put you in there later, after I've given you a full tour.”

Bella couldn't believe what she was seeing as the boy slowly led her past the cages of girls, pausing at each one.

“They're all here 'cos of you, girlie. All 'cos you seduced the old Duke's son with your witchcraft.”

Bella started sobbing as she looked at each captive girl in turn. She recognised none of them so far, though most remained curled in their little balls trying to block out the outside world. Bella saw that all had been pricked with a needle, and some had been further injured, bearing what looked like whip marks on their backs or legs, and some seemed to have been burnt. Bella could not see their breasts or genitals, but she guessed they would have been treated at least as harshly as herself.

At last the apprentice stopped Bella before a cage where a girl was chained upright. The girl was taller than Bella and had short brown hair, and a round, innocent face, now drawn and tear-stained. She could not have been more than twenty years old. Bella looked in horror at the appalling injuries the girl bore. She had been pricked, shaved and fucked, that much was now normal, but her large, pale breasts had been cruelly treated, being very swollen and bloodied. It looked as if they had been crushed in a vice and then pierced right through with thick skewers. Her nipples looked to have been twisted and pulled so viciously they had nearly been removed from her body. They hung there on her swollen tits, bruised, mis-shapen and reddened. Bella gently fingered her own sore nipples and wondered how painful this poor girl's would be to the same touch.

“Help me, please,” whispered the poor girl, but Bella could do nothing but smile weakly back.

“This witch 'as yet to repent,” the apprentice told Bella. “But I think she will tomorrow.”

“How could you do these awful things to that poor girl?” asked Bella.

“She's a witch. She was denounced by another witch yesterday. It's our 'oly duty to persuade 'er to repent and then to burn 'er to save 'er mortal soul. We'll do the same thing for you, girlie. Just wait your turn.”

Bella shuddered, but was quickly moved on down to the next occupied cage.

Bella thought she recognised the next girl as being from her own village. However, the girl was huddled in the corner and Bella couldn't be sure. She certainly wasn't about to disturb the girl and introduce herself. How all these girls would hate her if they knew it was she who had brought the Inquisitor here!

At last, the boy stopped Bella outside the last, unoccupied cage.

“This one's yours, girlie,” he announced like a proud newlywed about to carry his bride over the threshold of their new home. He opened the cage door with his key and ushered Bella inside. She stepped in reluctantly and looked at the iron grille walls and ceiling, and the bucket in the corner.

“Well come on, get out again. You've had a good look round. Let's now go and see some real action, girlie.”

The boy quickly guided Bella around the unoccupied apparatus. He enthusiastically explained the purpose of each, but Bella closed her ears to his gleeful descriptions of the horrors that would befall the poor soul attached to these hideous contraptions. At one point the apprentice was approached by a large, well-muscled, bare-chested man who was sweating profusely. Bella also noticed blood stains on his hands. He whispered quietly in the boy's ear, and the apprentice nodded and thanked him as he left.

“Well, girlie. I've got a nice surprise for you. Come this way,” he told Bella, as he led her towards the smoky centre of the room.

He held Bella firmly as a girl was removed from one of the cages. The girl had been curled up and Bella had not recognised her earlier. In the gloomy light, she still could not make out if she knew the girl, but could see she was blond haired and slightly bigger built than herself, but that wasn't unusual.

The girl was struggling against two men, who were also bare-chested – one being the man who had approached the apprentice just a few moments previously. She was cursing the men and slapping futilely at them as much as her chains would allow her. She disappeared from Bella's view behind a pillar, but her shouts and threats could still be heard for some minutes.

The apprentice kept Bella at some distance for a few minutes longer, until an awful, long, ear-piercing scream filled the room. He smiled and guided a trembling Bella towards the scream. He pushed Bella round a thick pillar so she could see the girl.

Bella gasped as she saw the young, blond girl stretched out before her. Her chains had been removed and she was now affixed to a large horizontal frame. Her ankles were spread and fixed by short chains to the bottom of the frame, while her wrists were fixed above her head by longer chains that wound round a huge roller. She was stretched tight, and one of the men was pulling on a lever to stretch the poor girl even further. The girl was screaming as a ratchet clicked and the man relaxed his grip, leaving the girl tightly stretched and fighting for breath, only her buttocks touching the surface of the frame.

“This is the rack, girlie, it's a great piece of equipment,” the apprentice informed Bella. “The girl is from the same village as you. Do you want to say hello?”

Bella gasped again. She had been so pre-occupied with the horror of the torture that she had not thought about it. The girl being tortured was Jane, the girl she had argued with all those weeks ago. She had been the first person to have called her a witch. She looked more closely at the pain-filled victim.

Jane was Bella's age, but was slightly taller and more curvy. As she looked down on her one-time enemy, Bella noticed Jane's pretty face contorted with the pain of her stretching. She noticed that Jane's underarm and pubic hair had been removed, but it looked as if she had been roughly shaved rather than the slow plucking Bella had endured. Bella guessed that with all these witches now in the cages, they simply couldn't find the time to pluck them all. Jane's pale flesh was different to Bella's freckled complexion, being almost porcelain white, and thus the Inquisitor had found fewer targets for his searching needle. Nevertheless, Jane's lovely skin bore a few small, dark moles on her chest, tummy and limbs, and all looked to have been well pierced and bloodied. Her long, thick nipples, like Bella's own, had obviously been pricked and were swollen and red on her smooth, pale breasts. These were larger than Bella's, but still firm and they glistened with the sweat of her distress as they rose and fell enticingly on her heaving chest. Jane's genitals were very sore, probably from the Inquisitor's needle and repeated fuckings. Bella assumed the girl had been no virgin before she had attracted the Inquisitor's attentions.

From the shadows the Inquisitor's assistant appeared and leant over the stretched, panting girl.

“Well, girl. Do you now admit you are a witch?”

“No. I'm not a witch. I'm NOT a witch!” screamed the girl.

The torturer leant again on his lever, forcing the roller to turn another notch. The chains holding the girl's arms clanked and ground and fresh blood seeped from around the manacles digging into the tender flesh of her wrists. Jane screamed in agony as she felt the tendons in her limbs stretch again. The ratchet clicked and the torturer relaxed, but for poor Jane the agony continued. She fought for breath as the muscles in her stretched abdomen twitched under tension.

Again, the Inquisitor's assistant asked Jane the question. Again she screamed her defiant answer.

The torturer strained to turn the roller again, using the full length of his lever to achieve the next satisfying click of the rack.

Jane's bum cheeks left the surface of the rack and she was now fully suspended in agonising tension on the diabolical device. Still she refused to admit her heresy.

Again the rollers turned, and Jane threw her head back in agony. Bella gasped in horror at the torture being played out in front of her, and caught Jane's wild, wide-open eyes.

“Bella!” she shrieked. “She's the one! She's the witch! She tried to seduce my man with her witch's potions. She's the one you need to question, not me. She's the one you need to burn. Her! Bella! She's the witch!”

Bella hung her head and sobbed at this outburst.

The apprentice smiled, as the Inquisitor's assistant ensured the scribe sitting close by had recorded Jane's accusation.

“So, Bella's a witch. We know that, girl. But you're a witch too. Admit it. What did Bella and you get up to together? Did you help her with her witch's potions? Tell me, girl. Admit it and let me save your soul.”

“No. I'm not a witch. Bella's the only witch,” squealed the tiring girl.

The Inquisitor's assistant nodded and the torturer grunted with exertion as he pulled yet again on the lever. Jane screamed anew as she felt the tendons in her shoulders tear, and the bones begin to part. The torturer recognised the signs and returned his lever to the previous position, leaving the poor girl still tightly stretched but not disabled.

Tears streamed down the agonised girl's face as the pain in her shoulders started to overwhelm her.

The Inquisitor's assistant quietly instructed the torturer and he extracted a long, thin iron rod from one of the nearby braziers and held it over the panting girl's sore right nipple, letting her feel its intense heat on her tender bud.

“I ask you again, girl. Do you admit that you are a witch?”

“No. Please. No. I beg you. You must believe me,” she screamed.

“I know you are a witch, girl. Find the strength to admit it. Tell me about the others in your coven. Tell me about Bella and all the others.”

“No. I'm not a witch. I know of no coven. The only witch I know is Bella!”

The torturer touched the end of the red hot rod to the girl's pink aureole just alongside her red nipple and rubbed it back and forth on her sweaty, slick skin, gradually turning it a darker and darker red as the layers burnt.

Jane wailed in absolute agony, clenching her fists until her fingernails bloodied her palms.

Again she was asked the question, and again the stubborn girl shook her head.

The torturer replaced his rod and picked out a fresh one. This time he burnt the tip of the girl's right nipple itself, before rubbing his red hot iron time and again up and down the stubby shaft of her burning, blistering bud until his rod began to cool.

Jane screamed louder than ever as the intense pain scorched through her nipple into her trembling breast to invade her whole body. The stench of her burning flesh hung in the air now around the torture rack.

Bella sobbed in empathy and begged the apprentice to take her away to her cage. The boy smiled and shook his head. He was enjoying this much too much, but he'd need to find a girl to fuck soon.

The torture of Jane on the rack continued. Next, the torturer burnt her other nipple, inducing animal-like wailing from the poor girl. But still she would not give in. Bella wondered how she could possibly withstand such awful treatment without confessing, even though she was sure Jane was not a witch.

At last, the torturer relaxed Jane's bondage and allowed her to rest on the rack. She sobbed as the feeling returned to her cramped limbs and the soreness in her joints became evident. She breathed in huge gasps of smoky air as the awful restriction of her breathing was ended. Her respite was short-lived, however, as the torturer fastened a thick leather strap tight over her tummy to fix her body firmly to the surface of the rack. Then he re-positioned the chains attached to her ankles so her legs were as widely spread as possible, fully exposing her sore cunt to the torturer and all the onlookers.

Bella was sure they were going to torture the poor girl's cunt now, and she covered her eyes with her hands. A strange curiosity made her peep through her fingers, however, to see what they would do to the poor girl.

The torturer held a small object in front of Jane's eyes and whispered something to her that obviously frightened her greatly. He turned a handle on the object and it seemed to open like petals on a flower. Jane shook her head wildly, but still refused to admit witchcraft.

“That's a pear. It's probably the most painful instrument we use on a girl,” the apprentice whispered in Bella's ear. “You watch this, girlie. She's going to confess soon.”

Bella looked through her fingers as the torturer moved towards the bottom of the rack and started fingering the squealing girl's sore cunt. He parted her sex lips and placed the rounded end of the pear into her sex. Ignoring the girl's pitiful screams, he pushed on until just the handle was left protruding from the writhing girl's body. Bella somehow knew the torturer would now turn the handle and open the petals inside the poor girl. She sobbed. She couldn't believe someone could do such a horrible thing to a girl, and she didn't have any idea how poor Jane could possibly endure it.

The torturer turned the handle slowly, and Jane howled in pain and begged him to stop, her body bathed in fresh sweat. Yet still she refused to confess. He turned the handle some more, and Jane screeched in agony, blabbing her innocence. After another pause, he turned the handle once more, using more effort this time as the girl's body resisted the hideous implement. Bella could now see a grotesque bulge in Jane's abdomen where the petals were opening, but only Jane could feel the awful pain as the sharp points ripped apart the tender insides of her ravaged love channel, probably causing fatal injury to the agonised girl.

One more turn was all it took. As blood started dripping from her ruined sex, Jane confessed all. She confessed that she had helped Bella make up her witch's potions, she confessed to fornicating with the Devil at clandestine gatherings with Bella and every other young girl she could think of, in her own village and many others nearby. The scribe worked overtime writing down all the names, taking particular care to note the names and descriptions of the denounced young females. Throughout her confession, the torturer kept his hand on the handle of the pear still buried deep within the poor girl, and whenever she flagged he twisted his wrist slightly, causing a hideous scream from the defeated girl and eliciting another stream of names of heretic accomplices.

Eventually, when the girl continually repeated herself, the Inquisitor's assistant decided he had gained all he could from his victim. The torturer removed the bloody pear from the girl's cunt and stuffed a rag in the gaping hole to stem the blood loss. The Inquisitor's assistant ordered the girl to be taken back to her cage and for the local magistrate to be informed of her confession. He wanted her burnt within three days. They would need her cage.

“Excellent! That's a great result, girlie,” exclaimed the apprentice.

“But that's all lies,” wept Bella. “None of that's true. We did none of those things. I've never heard of the other girls she named, much less met them, and I've never seen the Devil. You forced her to say that. She only said it to stop you hurting her.”

“Rubbish, girlie! She's a witch, just like you. It was the Devil inside 'er that made 'er deny it. She just needed to be persuaded to fight 'im and tell us the truth, just like you do. Now we can save 'er. She'll burn, just like you will.”

Suddenly there was a commotion at the door, and Bella looked round to see the Duke bursting in, his face even redder than usual. He rushed up to the Inquisitor's assistant in an obvious rage.

“What the Hell's going on?” he bellowed. Pointing to Bella, he stormed, “That's the little witch that poisoned my son. Why are you questioning all these other girls, when she's the one that needs to burn? Two of my men were set upon today by the local villagers who say their daughters are being abducted because of me. And you've turned my best wine cellar into a bloody torture chamber.”

“My dear Duke, please calm down,” replied the Inquisitor's assistant. “It was you who called us here, and we have discovered the evil coven to which this young witch belongs. It is very widely spread amongst the villages here. It is our holy duty to root out and save all the witches now that we have discovered them. I'm sure you would not wish to obstruct the Grand Inquisitor in his holy duty, would you, your Lordship? He would not wish to have to report such a matter to the King!”

“Oh, very well,” conceded the Duke reluctantly. “I suppose you must carry on, but I want this finished quickly and my cellar and home returned to me.”

“I understand, sir. However, this girl has just confessed to witchcraft and has named a large number of accomplices. We must capture them all and question them. We cannot leave until our holy investigation is complete.”

“What about this witch,” he pointed again at Bella. “I want the slut to burn at the stake tomorrow. That should please the villagers.”

“That witch has yet to confess, sir. But I'm sure she will soon. Then she can be burned.”

“She's not confessed! But I denounced the witch! Look at her, there's hardly a mark on her! Have you questioned her yet? No wonder that poor girl on the rack confessed. Look at the state of her. Why didn't you put that little witch on the rack instead? I'm sure she would have confessed too!”

“All in good time, sir. The Grand Inquisitor is conducting this enquiry in full accord with the Church's formal guidelines on such matters. I'm sure you would have it no other way, would you, sir?”

“Well I want to see that little witch suffer. She's the cause of all this. I want to hear her scream her confession. I'll come back first thing tomorrow to see for myself how you do it. You tell your master to expect me, and that I don't wish to be disappointed. If you do your stuff I'll treat you to a banquet with my finest wine. You tell the Grand Inquisitor that!”

With that last salvo the Duke stormed back out of the prison.

The apprentice guided the frightened Bella to her cage. “What's going to happen to me tomorrow?” she fearfully asked the apprentice.

“That depends on the Grand Inquisitor, girlie. It's obvious the Duke's angry, so 'e might want to calm 'im down and give 'im a good show. But 'e won't want you goin' to the stake before some of them other local girls burn. Still, that young blond girl's in the queue ahead of you, and I 'spect a few more'll confess tonight. We'll see in the mornin', girlie.”

The apprentice unlocked Bella's cage and shoved her in, locking the door behind her. Without another word he left, as Bella saw the limp, groaning body of Jane unceremoniously carried back to her cage just a few doors from Bella. At the same time, a skinny, mousy haired girl was being dragged screaming from her cage into the flickering shadows to begin her own hours of torment.

Bella sat on the floor and wept as fresh screams echoed around her. After a while she too curled into a ball and buried her head in her arms, trying to gain the blissful release of fitful sleep.

As she lay on her side, her arms covering her head, Bella tried to stop the awful sounds of the cellar from filling her ears. She thought she could hear the screaming voices of at least three different girls, one of which was presumably the poor, thin girl she had seen earlier being dragged away. She clearly heard the yelps of pain, and the frantic denials, and even thought she could hear the clicking ratchet of the horrible rack stretching another poor, innocent victim beyond endurance. Occasional whiffs of burning flesh wafted into her cage in the smoky atmosphere, and Bella's mind became filled again with the hideous sight of Jane being tortured until she had confessed and implicated all those other poor, innocent girls. Bella cried as she thought of the Inquisitor's men raiding the cottages where these girls lived and snatching them away from loving parents or husbands to bring them here to rape and torture. And all because of her; all because she had inadvertently attracted the attention of the Duke's young son and been discovered with him by the boy's angry father. Oh dear, what a sorry tale!

An especially loud, piercing scream startled Bella and she looked up, but could see nothing different through the hazy smoke. She expected to see all the girls in their cages roused by the scream, but could see no-one else who had stirred. She guessed they must have become used to such happenings. Bella wondered how long she had been in this awful place, but realised she had no way of knowing if it was day or night. She thought she could make out the blabbering confessions of one of the tortured girls, just catching fragments of names between squeals of pain and pleas for mercy. “Oh no, not yet more new victims,” she thought to herself. “Where will it end?”

Then she remembered her own dire predicament. What would they do to her when the Duke returned? How long would she have to wait to find out? She remembered the old poultice in her arse. It was itching a lot now, and was quite uncomfortable. She wondered if she should take it out, and she squirmed in her chains, trying to get a hold of it. The clanking of her chains suddenly seemed very loud, and Bella stopped her movements, worried that her neighbours might stir and be angry with her. She had no wish to draw any attention to herself at all. She sighed deeply and sobbed quietly again as she tried once more to sleep.

Bella woke again with a start as the door to her cage was unlocked. Her heart skipped a beat as she was sure they had come to put her to the question!

Instead, a naked young girl, chained just like Bella herself, entered her cage and placed a mug of water and a small knob of hard bread on the floor. She looked in Bella's bucket and saw it was empty, so she left without saying a word. The guard at her door locked her cage again and moved on to the next one. Bella watched the girl as she did the same at the next cage, though the prisoner curled up in that one didn't even seem to notice her visitor's presence. Bella saw that the girl was about her own age, with very dirty blond hair down to her shoulders. Her body was shaved and she too displayed the evidence of the Inquisitor's needle and some painful fuckings, but looked otherwise uninjured. Her face was expressionless, her skin pale, her eyes dull, giving an air of resignation to her situation. Bella supposed she was just another accused witch being used to undertake menial housekeeping tasks until her turn came on the rack.

Having examined the condition of the other girl, Bella looked at herself. She too was filthy, with dirty marks all over her body and smears of dry sweat. The puncture wounds from the Inquisitor's needle had all formed scabs, some of which had now healed and fallen away and her only really painful parts were her tender, slightly swollen nipples and her sore cunt and arse holes. The iron collar had scraped the skin from above her collar bones and the back of her neck, and her manacles had chaffed her wrists and ankles, but overall Bella's body was holding up quite well.

Bella hardly noticed the fresh, girlish screams of agony that still regularly filled the large room as she nibbled at the bread she had been left. She took a drink of water and then crouched over her bucket to pee. Bella scowled as her waste fluid tinkled into the iron bucket; this was still quite a painful activity. She was pleased to note the yellow colour of her foul smelling urine, rather than the reddish tinge she had feared she might see. Bella then decided to remove her itching poultice and she pulled at it with her chained hands. It would not move, probably stuck to the bloody walls of her anal passage. She tugged harder, gritting her teeth at her discomfort, until she felt it loosen inside her. Very slowly, she eased the blood soaked dressing out, trying hard not to open any internal wounds. At last it plopped into the bucket and Bella wrinkled her nose as she looked down at it. She gingerly fingered her anus and found a slight smear of fresh blood on her digits, which she hoped would quickly congeal. Her arse hole still itched, but at least she felt more comfortable now without the poultice shoved inside her. Bella lay down again and waited, knowing that at some point her cage door would open again and this time they would take her outside into the smoky room.

Bella dozed on and off, unable to gauge the passing of time; fearful every time she woke that they were coming for her. Finally she heard a key grinding in a lock and looked up in trepidation, but it was the door next to hers that was creaking open. Bella saw the guard grab the curled up girl's arm and pull her roughly to her feet. Bella got a good sight of the girl for the first time; she had long, flowing ginger hair and a very pale, freckled complexion, rather like her own. Her face was lovely, though she was crying now, with big green eyes peeping fearfully through her straggly, ginger curls. Her body was covered in scabs from the needle, with her large, freckled breasts particularly densely pierced. She was taller than Bella, with long, slim legs and nicely rounded thighs. The girl struggled with the guard, but was no match for his strength, particularly with her wrists and ankles manacled. With the help of a colleague, the guard dragged the protesting girl from her cage and they disappeared behind one of the thick pillars into the smoky interior of the foreboding cellar. Bella didn't dare imagine what they were going to do to the poor girl.

Bella returned to her fitful dozing. Every time she woke, it seemed that another screaming girl was being taken from a cage somewhere in the long row. She guessed the Inquisitor was anxious to gain confessions and get witches burnt, as the apprentice had told her. She wondered why they had not yet come for her; surely it was past morning now and the Duke would be back to see her suffer.

Sometimes Bella would see a girl being dragged back to her cage after interrogation, and presumably confession. They always seemed to be exhausted, being half carried back to their cages by the guards, but they were too far away for Bella to determine what may have been done to them. She waited in morbid anticipation for the return of her next door neighbour. They seemed to be taking a long time with her.

The hot, stale, smoky atmosphere in the airless cellar irritated Bella's throat as she lay in her prison. She coughed and wheezed as she tried to sleep, and her skin itched as sweat oozed from her pores. She felt very dirty, as indeed she was, and longed for the days when she would wash in the clear, clean water of the stream near her cottage and breathe in the fresh air, beautifully fragranced by the lavender that grew so abundantly nearby. It seemed a lifetime away from this hellhole she inhabited now.

At last she sensed more movement nearby and she looked up to see her neighbour being returned to her cage by two burly guards. They each held the girl by an arm, up near her armpit, and were dragging her towards her cage. The girl was not resisting, in fact her head was bowed and her feet were dragging along the stone floor, bouncing painfully as they moved over the uneven flagstones. She was chained again as before, and as she came nearer, Bella was able to see some of the injuries that scarred the girl's lovely body.

The pretty, ginger haired girl's large, full breasts seemed to have taken the brunt of the torturers' attentions, along with her genitals. Already marked by the Inquisitor's hellish needle, the girl's boobs looked to Bella to be very swollen, with bloody, red marks all over them that had leaked blood in streaks down the girl's tight stomach. It looked as if her breasts had been squeezed very hard with some kind of sharp pincers that had bitten deep into her tit flesh. Bella thought the torturers must have used the implement many times on each breast to result in the amount of damage that had been inflicted on the poor girl's boobs. In addition, Bella noticed the girl's nipples had been badly burnt, just like she had seen being done to Jane on the rack. Bella caressed her own boobs absent-mindedly as she tried to comfort herself. Then she looked further down her neighbour's battered body to her sex.

Bella saw the girl's sex lips were mangled and swollen, with more dried blood streaking her smooth inner thighs. “Surely they had not used that awful pear thing on this girl too?” thought Bella. But, no, the pear damaged the insides rather than the outside, so they must have used another hideous instrument on this pitiful victim. Finally, as the girl was thrown unceremoniously to the floor inside her cage, Bella saw the dark horizontal and diagonal welts that covered the girl's heavily freckled back. Bella had no doubts what had caused those injuries; the girl had suffered a frightful whipping!

As the guards turned away and locked the cage door behind them, Bella thought for one dreadful moment they were going to come to her cage and drag her away for some of the same awful treatment; after all, she was overdue, surely. To her relief, the guards paid Bella not the slightest attention and they sauntered back into the gloom of the huge torture chamber.

Bella crawled over to the side of her cage nearest her battered neighbour, but the ginger haired girl did not stir at all. Eventually, Bella returned to her curled position in her cage as yet more anguished screams filled her ears. She cried.

Bella awoke some time later and looked around her. The ginger haired girl next door still lay where the guards had left her, and some newly arrested girls were being pushed struggling into cages nearby. Bella knew they were new as they were still dressed, presumably having just been rounded up after they had been named by Jane and any other poor girls who had been painfully put to the question. Bella watched with interest as one by one the new girls were taken from their cages, only to return some time later with their clothes and pubic hair removed and bearing the tell-tale marks of the Inquisitor's needle. She saw that most were young, pretty girls, and these were the ones that bore the largest number of bloody trails from the pricking and piercing. Many were limping, their genitals raw and bleeding after being repeatedly used, some obviously for the first time. Most were also sobbing hysterically.

Bella wondered what had happened to the girls who had occupied the cages when she had first arrived in the cellar. They must have left to vacate their cages for these new arrivals. She wondered where they had gone, and then she realised. Bella burst into tears yet again.

The pale girl entered Bella's cage and changed her slop bucket and left fresh water and bread. Bella stirred. She tried to recall how many times now the girl had done that, but it was too many to remember. She noticed the cage next door was now empty – they had taken the ginger haired girl away. Although they had never spoken, Bella felt a sense of loss, as if a close friend had deserted her.

Time and again Bella was visited by the pale girl, only now she left two lumps of stale bread each time, and a larger cup of water. Never once did either speak, nor even make eye contact. Bella had got used to the stench, the smoke, the stale air, the darkness and the flickering torches. She had got used to beaten girls coming and going all the time, and didn't even look up any more. She had even got used to the terrible screams that still punctuated the passing of time, and she didn't notice as the screaming became less frequent. Bella was deep in her own thoughts, wondering when at last the torturers would come for her, and wondering what they would do to her when they did. Part of her even wished they would come soon. She longed for someone to talk to, even if it was just the young apprentice coming to fuck her again, with his quick wit and crude thoughts. Even that would be better than this interminable waiting.

Bella crouched and peed in her bucket, and then realised this was the third time she'd used the bucket without it being changed. Her tummy rumbled and she remembered how hungry she was, and that it was a long time since she had been left bread by the pale girl. Bella suddenly took more notice of her surroundings and she realised all the cages she could see were empty, and there was no evidence of screaming or torture. She wondered what was going on, and dreaded that she had been left alone to die slowly in this horrible place. She thought of calling out, but decided against it. She sat down again and peered out into the gloomy room.

Chapter 13 – The End of the Investigation

The guard turned the key in the lock and the young, dark haired girl woke with a start from her troubled sleep. Before she could think, the guard was upon her, grasping her slender arms and picking her slim body easily from the floor. Once outside the cage, he and his colleague frog-marched the girl quickly towards the centre of the room.

Bella's heart was racing. She looked anxiously around her as she was hurried along by her two guards. She was astonished at what she saw. The long row of metal grille cages all now lay empty, and in fact they were already being dismantled from the end furthest from where she had been imprisoned. Even more surprisingly, the cellar was now bare of all the hideous torture apparatus that had filled it for so long, and that had caused such agony to so many young girls. Confused, Bella's heart leapt as she thought she might at last be set free, if the Inquisitor's work was done.

Still chained, Bella was brought to a heavy, wooden chair near the door of the cellar, and her fleeting thoughts of freedom left her in an instant. The guards forced her down onto the large chair and fixed her chained ankles to the bottom of the thick wooden legs. They then buckled a thick leather strap across her chest just above her breasts, securing her to the hard back of the dark, stained chair. Bella suddenly felt very frightened again, and she waited in terror, clanking her chains loudly as she fidgeted around, her eyes flitting about, trying to identify any approaching enemies in the dark room. Her guards stood dispassionately on either side of her.

After a few minutes a number of torches approached and were placed in holders on pillars surrounding the chair, bathing the shivering girl in flickering, yellow light. Bella could feel the heat from the torches and she started to sweat, feeling trickles of moisture run down her back and chest. She shuddered as through the shadows she saw the fearful outline of the Grand Inquisitor approaching her. He still wore his cloak with his dark hood preventing her from seeing his face, though she thought she could see his evil eyes sparkling in the darkness. Behind him came his faithful scribe, again holding a large scroll, and then two bare-chested torturers, heaving the only remaining brazier towards Bella's chair.

The Inquisitor looked down at the young witch, dwarfed by the huge chair to which she was fastened. Oh yes, he remembered this one. This was the girl who had started the whole thing; how much pleasure she had given him over the past weeks. He remembered all the pretty, young witches he had fucked and tortured because of this girl, and his cock twitched in appreciative memory. He remembered pricking this lovely girl so many times with his needle up in the tower. He remembered her beautiful freckles, her soft skin, her smooth thighs, her firm breasts and her so sensitive cunt. He remembered her delicious wailing and squirming as he had pricked her again and again. Oh, how he had enjoyed that. And he remembered fucking her – oh how she had screamed, and was she tight? Oh, yes, she had been so tight and responsive, both in her cunt and her arse!

Every time he had tortured or fucked any of the other witches in this cellar, he had always remembered this one, young Bella, who had brought him to this place and allowed him to enjoy his holy work. He had always looked forward to this moment when he could again explore her lovely body, and cause her excruciating pain and savour her wonderful suffering. Now, that time had arrived. His cock rose to full attention.

The Grand Inquisitor took a deep breath. “Well, witch. You have been denounced by the Duke, we have discovered all number of witch's potions in your cottage, you have been named by many confessed witches as the leader of their coven, and I have found the mark of the devil on your whore's body. Do you now confess to the heresy of witchcraft and repent, and seek the forgiveness of the Holy Church?”

Bella gulped, fresh tears flowing down her blushing cheeks. “No, sir. I'm not a witch.”

“Ah, the devil remains strong in you after all this time! You have seen the methods I must employ to help you confess and save your soul from the Devil. Confess now and I will not have to use my instruments on your delicate body. Confess, witch, and save yourself!”

“But I cannot lie, sir. I am not a witch,” cried Bella desperately.

The Grand Inquisitor nodded to his two torturers as the scribe noted Bella's responses. The two large, bare-chested men approached Bella's chair carrying a wooden board, which they placed on the arms of the chair and bolted firmly in position. Bella looked down at it in trepidation and soon discovered its purpose as her chained hands were placed on top of the board, palms down, and immediately sandwiched by another, shorter board that covered her petite hands, but left her fingers sticking out. The torturers turned large screws at either end of the board, and in the middle between Bella's hands until she screamed in pain at the pressure being applied. Bella thought the bones in her tiny hands would break, but thankfully the torturers stopped tightening the screws just in time.

Sweat and tears covered her reddened face as the Inquisitor again asked her to confess. Bella refused, sobbing her plaintive pleas of innocence to the unmoving Inquisitor.

A torturer took a pair of pliers from under the glowing brazier and carefully picked a very thin needle from the coals. He held it up for the petrified girl to see. “No. No. No. NO!” screamed Bella. “I'm NOT a witch. I'm NOT! Please don't hurt me. PLEASE!”

Her treaties turned to bloodcurdling screams as the torturer attentively placed the very tip of the red-hot needle under the dirty, but hard and healthy nail of the little finger of her left hand.

Bella felt the searing heat first, then the initial prick, and then the awful pain as the needle inched its path under her precious fingernail, piercing and burning the tender flesh and prising the strong nail slowly away. Her torturer carefully wiggled the burning tip of his sharp needle around under her nail, scorching the sore bed and gradually loosening the blackening nail as wisps of acrid smoke rose from the wailing girl's tortured digit.

As her ruined fingernail bounced on the hard stone floor beneath her, Bella's screaming finally subsided. She sobbed, her chest heaving. Snot dribbled from her nose. The Inquisitor asked her the question again. She shook her head defiantly.

This time the other torturer took the pliers and extracted a fresh, hot needle. He slowly removed the nail from Bella's other delicate little finger, and she felt the agony of this torture as much as she had felt the first. In fact, for Bella it was worse, as she knew just how bad it would be, and she was not mistaken. As she panted, trying to recover again, Bella wondered if she should now bow to the inevitable and confess. After all, she found her torture hideously painful, but it was nothing compared to what she'd seen inflicted on other girls in this hellish cellar. She knew they would not stop until she confessed, and she doubted if she could stand much more.

Before she had time to decide, Bella felt the searing heat and agonising entry of another needle on the ring finger of her right hand. She screamed anew and thrashed her head around so much that one of her guards buckled a strap across her forehead to fix her head to the chair.

With the next needle, Bella peed through the large hole in the seat of her chair, her yellow waste splashing on the stone floor.

As her head whirled in a world of agonising pain and fear, Bella lost track of the progress of her torturers as they methodically took turns to remove her nails until all ten on her hands had tumbled silently to the floor, leaving her lovely digits bloody and tender.

A guard offered the weeping girl some water, and she drank readily. As her sobbing subsided, the Inquisitor spoke again.

“That was just a mild foretaste of what will come if you insist on denying the charges against you. Confess now, witch, or I will be forced to move onto much more painful methods.”

“No,” gasped Bella. “Please. I've had enough. Please don't hurt me any more.”

“Confess, then, witch.”

“How can I confess to something I'm not?”

The Inquisitor nodded again to his torturers.

One torturer moved close to Bella side and lifted the eyelid of her left eye, preventing Bella from closing it. Bella screamed. “No. No. NO! You can't do that! You can't! You CAN'T!!!”

The other torturer used the pliers to pick out one of the hot needles from the coals. He held it a foot in front of the screaming girl's face, pointing directly at her left eyeball.

“No! No! NO!!!!” screamed Bella again, sweat pouring down her over-stressed body. “You CAN'T!!!!”

Very slowly the torturer moved the glowing needle a little closer to Bella's sparkling green eye, ironically the very feature that had most entranced the Duke's son all those weeks ago.

Bella was hysterical as she felt the heat of the needle as it gradually closed in on its target. She saw the glowing tip getting bigger and bigger as her worst nightmare was coming true.

She could hear her own screams filling her ears, but from somewhere she heard a low voice urging her to confess.

“NO!!!!” she screamed again, but still the blinding needle came slowly closer, inch by awful inch. “Confess, Bella, confess,” urged the voice. “Please confess.”

The needle was alongside her pretty nose now, in just a few short seconds the glowing tip would scratch the surface of her eyeball.

“Please confess, Bella,” came the voice. “Please, Bella. PLEASE!”

Still the glowing needle came fractionally nearer; the heat increased and her eye started watering. It was almost there now.

“STOP!!! I confess. I'm a witch. Please STOP!!!” screamed Bella at the top of her voice. “It's all true. I am a witch. I bewitched the Duke's son. I'm sorry!” she blurted. “I confess! I confess! I CONFESS!!!”

Suddenly the awful needle was gone.

Within moments Bella found herself released from her chair and back in her cage. Her mind was in turmoil, completely unable to understand what had happened to her over the past hour or so. She lay huddled in her cage, much as she had for so long over the past weeks. Her fingers hurt her terribly, and her eye ached, and she was full of dread at what new horrors now awaited her since her confession.

Chapter 14 – Getting Ready

Some time later Bella felt her arms again in the grip of the guards as she was hauled from her cage. Hers was the only one still standing, and as soon as she left it two workmen began dismantling the grilles that had been her last home.

Bella was marched to a long flat table in a corner of the empty cellar and laid down on it. The chain attached to her collar was removed, allowing her manacled hands to be raised above her head and fastened to the table. She lay there staring vacantly up at the vaulted ceiling of the dark cellar. To her left, members of the Duke's household were already starting to replace the wine racks in the cellar.

“'Ello, girlie,” came a familiar voice to her left. “Well, you don't look too 'appy. Then again, I'm not surprised really.”

The apprentice nonchalantly placed two buckets on the table next to Bella.

“So you confessed in the end, eh, girlie. I said you would, didn't I? I bet you're wonderin' why we didn't 'urt you as much as the others, aren't you, girlie?”

Bella made no response.

“You see, girlie. When the ol' Duke got so upset that night and demanded 'e sees you tortured. Well, the Grand Inquisitor's not goin' to 'ave any of that, is 'e? But 'e knew 'e 'ad to placate the Duke somehow, so 'e did a deal. We knew the locals were gettin' upset with the Duke, what with so many of their young maidens bein' taken away from 'em, so the Grand Inquisitor thought 'e could smooth them all over by promisin' to give you to them at the end of the investigation. Of course, they would want you reasonably 'ealthy, and we only needed a confession; we didn't need any names from you as we 'ad plenty from the other witches. So we left you 'til last and just gave you a little gentle persuasion, just enough for you to confess so your burnin' will be all legal and above board. Good job you confessed before we took your eye out or the Grand Inquisitor would 'ave some difficult explainin' to do, eh, girlie.”

“It's a pity we didn't get the chance to get more acquainted on the rack, or the 'orse, girlie, but there you are. You looked so sexy when you were in pain. And I still 'aven't fucked your arse, 'ave I, girlie. Best not do it now, though, I think the locals 'ave something special planned for that pretty arse of yours.”

“Still, this 'as been a great inquiry, this one, girlie. We've burnt over thirty witches 'ere, and most of 'em were young and quite comely. At one time they 'ad to do a mass burnin' of six witches at the same time. What a sight that was, girlie. Six fair maidens screamin' away as the flames licked around their pretty ankles. There was plenty of screamin' in the crowd too, some cheerin' 'em on, but lots of screamin' mums and dads, brothers and sisters, and boyfriends too. That was a great day.”

“Some of the witches 'ave been quite wealthy too, or at least their families were. Of course we've seized anything of value and we've got ourselves a reasonable 'aul. So it's been good all round.”

“The Grand Inquisitor's been called away to another investigation. Someone's seen a witch playin' around with a black cat. That's a favourite pet of witches, that is, girlie. I'm joinin' 'im tomorrow with the rest of the team, after I've prepared you for your burnin' and seen that it's been properly carried out.”

“It should be another good day, your burnin', girlie. The local magistrate received official notice of your confession yesterday, and they asked to burn you straight away. I've 'eard they've 'ired the best executioner in the county to make sure they send you off proper. I've got to deliver you to the market place at noon, but they're not due to light the fire until five, so I guess we're in for a good session. They want me to grease you up well. That'll prevent too much serious injury from the punishments they'll give you and keep you fresher for the actual burnin'. It'll also keep you alive longer on the stake and increase your sufferin' and the crowd's enjoyment of your wailin' and pleadin'. I think I'll put a few powders and such in your 'air too, to give a good display. That usually makes the crowd gasp, and they'll think it's all part of your witch's shenanigans anyway. Yep, I'm looking forward to this a lot, girlie.”

Bella listened to the boy's diatribe with horror and incredulity. She had only a passing interest in the duplicity of the Grand Inquisitor in his dealings with the Duke and the local populace, but her interest and anxiety increased dramatically as he started describing her fate. He seemed so matter-of-fact as he foretold of her prolonged, evidently agonising, execution at the hands of a vengeful crowd.

“What… what are they going to do to me?” she asked, dreading the response.

“I dunno, girlie. It's up to them. All I know is that it'll take five hours before they burn you. What would you do to a girl with no family or friends to speak up for 'er? A girl that 'as confessed to bein' the leader of a coven of witches and 'as caused the death by burning of over thirty of their maidens? I wouldn't expect any thank yous, girlie.”

Bella shuddered. She knew the boy was right.

“You can still help me. You can let me go now. The Grand Inquisitor's not here, he'll never know. I could make you happy if you ran away with me. We could go somewhere nobody would ever find us and live happily. I'll even let you fuck me up my arse as often as you like. What do you say? Please. Please.”

“Well, that's very nice of you, girlie. And I can't say I'm not tempted, but I think the locals would 'unt us down pretty quick. Anyways, I don't want to be runnin' away all my life. I've got a good job that pays well and that I enjoy. And besides, I've got an endless supply of fresh, tight, young pussy and arse, and when I make Inquisitor I'll even be able to take me a load of virgins whenever I want. So, no thank you, girlie. Think I'll just do what I'm told and 'and you over at noon. Now, it's time to get you clean and greased up so you'll look nice for the executioner.”

Poor Bella lay back on the table, her mind filled with all the terrible things that awaited her. She would be severely punished, whatever that entailed, and then burnt alive in front of all her old friends and customers – what an awful thought!

Her morbid pondering was disturbed when the boy splashed her dirty face with cold water and then started gently cleaning her with his wet cloth. He carefully wiped away the tear stains, the stale sweat and the grime from her weeks of captivity, until her pale skin and freckles reappeared.

Next the boy cleaned Bella's breasts, almost lovingly rubbing her firm, creamy mounds and teasing her small, pink nipples with his cloth, grinning as the cold water brought them to hardness. “You like that, don't you, girlie,” he observed. He continued to wash the front of Bella's slim torso and then her arms and legs before he finally rinsed his dirty cloth and started cleaning up her grimy, sweaty crotch. He gently parted her puffy sex lips, still slightly bruised from her earlier rapes, but healed of the wounds from his master's needle, and pushed the cloth inside her as far as he could, cleaning out any remaining dry blood and semen. He then asked the girl to roll over, and he cleaned her slender back, her soft, round bum cheeks and the tight, smooth backs of her lovely legs. His last task was the clean out her arse hole, though it was still sore from the Inquisitor's anal rape of her all those weeks ago. Bella gasped as the boy fingered her arse with the cold cloth, and wondered for a minute of he would change his mind and take her there. She knew she could not stop him if he did.

Instead the boy dropped his soiled cloth into the bucket and placed it on the floor. “That's about as clean as I can get you, girlie,” he told her. “Your arse sure looks inviting. Quite gettin' me goin', it is.” He scratched his crotch brazenly through trousers, further exciting his hard cock. “Never mind,” he continued. “Now for the grease, girlie.”

Bella looked over her shoulder as the boy dipped his hand into the remaining bucket and scooped out a large dollop of tallow. He splattered the grease on the middle of her back and started to massage it into her skin with both hands. Bella turned her nose up at the sour smell of the slippery substance being rubbed liberally into her. Gathering yet more tallow, the boy rubbed the grease into Bella's arms and over her bum cheeks. He put smaller amounts behind each knee and worked the grease down to her ankles and up to her bum, taking great care to rub copious amounts into the creases of her backside. Then he dipped two fingers into the bucket and slipped them up into her anal passage to smear the insides with a generous helping of the slimy substance.

The boy checked Bella's glistening body to ensure her back was completely covered before slapping her playfully on her bum and telling her to turn over.

Bella scrambled around on the table, her wrists still chained down above her head, until she was able to lie on her greasy back. She felt the coldness of the slimy substance on her skin as she lay down flat.

The boy grinned as he looked down on her lovely, slim body, stretched defencelessly before him. His cock twitched yet again as he look in her sexual beauty – her pretty face, smooth, pale skin, perky breasts and slender legs – and of course her lovely pink slit, so recently virgin, which seemed to wink up at him as the girl wiggled, trying to get comfortable on the hard, wooden table. He sighed as he dipped both hands together in the bucket and scooped up a huge glob of slimy, grey tallow.

Bella looked up at him plaintively as the apprentice moved his cupped hands over her body. Gungy drops of grease dripped from between his fingers over her tummy before he emptied his hands just above her breasts and then started massaging the thick grease into her lovely boobs. She noticed his lustful grin as he worked the tallow into the smooth skin of her tits, squeezing and fondling her breasts with his callused hands.

For many minutes the apprentice rubbed the tallow into Bella's breasts, until he was sure they had absorbed as much of the grease as possible. He smeared the excess over her stomach and upper chest, neck and shoulders and massaged that into her skin as well. Returning to the bucket he extracted more grease and applied it to the girl's arms and legs, ensuring every inch was covered. Bella lay motionless as the boy approached fresh tallow to his next target, her crotch. He rubbed the grease energetically into her denuded mound, around her hips and into the creases at the front of her thighs. At last he smeared a large glob directly over her pink slit and he started to force the cold grease into her sore pussy with his strong, thick fingers. At this intrusion Bella moaned her displeasure, but the boy ignored her pleas and continued to force more and more tallow deeper inside her.

“Believe me, girlie. You'll thank me for this later on,” he said rather ominously.

When he was eventually satisfied he reluctantly ceased his intimate fondling of the helpless witch's genitals and stood looking down directly on the girl's pretty, but traumatised face. He gently wiped his slimy fingers on her freckled cheeks and rubbed the last of the tallow into her face, ensuring her nose and ears were treated.

“That's it, girlie. You're fully greased up now. That'll make you last longer. More entertainment for the crowd and hopefully more profit for me.”

The apprentice released Bella's chain and pulled the girl to her feet.

“Ah. Better just do somethin' to your fingers, girlie. I forgot about them,” the boy said as he noticed Bella's bloodied, nail-less fingers. A quick clean and grease made them look a little better, but made them throb again and remind Bella of the dreadful time she had spent bound to the awful torture chair.

“Right. Need to do something with that 'air, as well, girlie. It's all over the show.”

The boy removed a large comb from his pocket and started to try and tidy Bella's long, dirty, tangled dark hair. The comb quickly snagged and Bella howled in protest as the apprentice yanked at it violently, trying to pull the comb through her hair.

“Owwww. Stop! You're pulling all my hair out!”

“Don't worry, girlie. There's plenty left for what you need. These long locks'll fetch me a good price, so they're more use to me than to you.”

It took many minutes of determined tugging and pulling before Bella's hair untangled, leaving quite a pile of her tresses at her feet. The boy carefully gathered them up and put them in his deep pocket. He then pulled out a phial from another pocket and poured a powdery substance over her head with a cruel grin. Bella shook her head, and the boy laughed.

“That won't do much good, girlie. That powder'll stick to your 'air like glue. It'll go off nice when them flames come lickin'.”

The boy then tied Bella's long, dark hair in a loose pony tail using a pretty strip of cloth obviously taken from the dress of one of the condemned girls. “That'll stop your 'air getting' in the way, girlie,” he stated. “Now to adjust your chains for the journey.”

The apprentice removed the iron collar from around Bella's neck and placed it on the table. Bella's relief was very short-lived, though, as the boy quickly replaced it with an even wider collar that was hinged at the back and had an iron rod about two feet long welded to each side. At the end of each rod was an iron manacle. The boy lifted Bella's ponytail and carefully placed the collar around her slender neck, bringing it together under her chin and bolting it securely in place. Bella watched intently as the boy worked, her fear growing all the time as her realisation became stronger at just what was in store for her.

The boy released Bella's left wrist and secured it into the iron manacle at the end of the rod to her left. Bella noticed that the rod was angled so that the manacle was slightly behind her, so she had to stretch her shoulder back quite uncomfortably. The boy repeated the exercise with Bella's right wrist, and her position became much more painful with both shoulders stretched, her chest expanded and her breasts thrust out in the front of her.

“Aaaahhh,” she groaned. “Please. Please don't leave me like this. It hurts. You can't make me go to the village like this.”

“Yes I can, girlie,” the boy chuckled. “The magistrate specifically asked for this. 'E reckons it will display you nicely to the crowd, and I think 'e's right!”

The apprentice eyed the chained girl lustfully. Her out-thrust boobs glistened in the light of the cellar's torches and just begged for attention. He couldn't resist and squeezed the girl's tits, causing some of the tallow to ooze from their smooth skin. Bella squealed in fright as the boy's actions reinforced even more the vulnerability of her bondage. He laughed and released her. Noticing the fresh finger marks on the girl's greasy boobs, he quickly rubbed them again to cover his tracks and smooth the grease into her lovely skin.

Finally the apprentice attached a length of chain to the front of Bella's collar and tugged firmly, leading the petrified girl towards the door.

“Come on, girlie. Your audience awaits.”

Chapter 15 – Return to the Market Place

Bella was led out of the cellar and through the corridors and up the stairs of the Grand Hall. The apprentice walked steadily, but for Bella it was a great effort to walk with her ankles still manacled and with her wrists trapped as they were and her chest thrust out. Although she was now used to being naked, Bella felt very embarrassed being seen like this, offering her breasts to all she encountered. She was quite relieved that nobody they met in the Grand Hall seemed to take any notice of her.

Soon enough Bella found herself led through a last door and out into the courtyard. She blinked in the bright sunlight. This was the first time she had seen daylight for ages, and the brightness hurt her eyes. The apprentice stopped and Bella was able to spend a few seconds taking stock. She gradually got used to the light and soon worked out from the sun's position that it was late morning. The sky was clear and blue and the sun already very warm on her bare shoulders. It was going to be a beautiful, scorching hot summer's day.

“This way, girlie.” The apprentice tugged on Bella's chain and she stumbled after him towards a group of heavily armed men with horses. As they got nearer, Bella noticed they were all in the Duke's livery, though it was obviously the apprentice who was in charge. Amongst the horses were two carriages; an open one with a wooden cage on it, and one nicely decorated covered carriage. Bella knew instantly which would be hers!

Two horsemen took Bella from the apprentice and led her to the open carriage. Bella carefully climbed the short ladder that enabled her to enter the cage as the horsemen held her steady. Once inside, Bella's chain was attached to a ring in the roof of the cage, forcing the poor girl to stand in the centre of the cage, fully displayed to all who saw her. The horsemen made no attempt to hide their lust for the lovely, naked witch as she was fastened in place, but neither dared to molest her with the apprentice watching attentively.

After a few minutes the cavalcade was ready. Two horsemen led the way followed by the apprentice's carriage, then the cart containing the displayed witch and four more horsemen behind. Poor Bella's shoulders had been aching since her wrists had been fastened in this awful contraption, and the aching became worse with every minute and every jolt of the cart on the rutted road. On top of that, the summer sun was beating down on her naked body and getting hotter every second. Bella felt her exposed shoulders start to burn and found the grease in her skin starting to mix with sweat and trickle down her body. She started remembering all the horrible things the apprentice had described to her earlier that morning, and she became more and more frightened. But surely her old friends in the village wouldn't let them burn her, or even hurt her? Surely? Bella started sobbing, tears mixing with sweat and grease on her pretty cheeks.

Suddenly Bella looked up. She was sure she recognised the fields past which she was now being taken. Yes, over there was the narrow lane that led to her lovely, little cottage, with its pretty herb garden and clear, bubbling stream. She looked longingly in the direction of her cottage, hoping vainly to be able to turn the clock back and resume her idyllic life there. As she looked back over her shoulder Bella knew that was impossible, and the peace and tranquillity of her past life would be in sharp contrast to what now lay ahead of her.

The cart now followed Bella's very familiar route to the village. She knew every field, every tree, and every gate along the way. She knew only too well how close she was now getting to the village and the scene of her execution. Bella's sobs deepened and she pulled in fear and frustration on the unyielding chain that bound her to the cart. Just outside the village the cavalcade stopped. They must be a little early, thought Bella through her fear. Nobody spoke as Bella waited. The only sound was a snorting horse.

After several minutes two of the horsemen galloped off in front. A while later they returned and one reported to the covered carriage. The two horsemen stationed themselves on each side of Bella's cart and a few seconds later the cavalcade started off again, though this time at a very slow pace. Bella looked about her fearfully as the cart rounded the final corner before entering the small village. Just a few yards away was the market place, the centre of the village, and her destination.

Before she saw them, Bella heard the cries of the crowd. She had never seen so many people before in her life. It was obvious that the whole village had come out, as well as people from many surrounding farms and villages. As they saw Bella the crowd started screaming. Although she could make out few words, it was evident to Bella that they were very angry, shouting abuse and making very obvious threatening gestures. Some threw stones at Bella, and were immediately set upon by the magistrate's guards, but others were allowed to throw rotten fruit at the cowering witch. Most missed by some distance and some struck the horsemen protecting her, but some apples and pears landed in Bella's cart and one or two even struck her a glancing blow. Bella cried, not in pain, but in despair as she realised the apprentice was right – the villagers really did hate her.

As the cart entered the market square Bella looked up and was amazed at what she saw. In the centre of the square, where market stalls usually stood, the villagers had built a huge wooden platform. It was raised about six feet from the ground and was about twenty feet square. On the platform were a number of wooden structures that Bella could not really make out, but what stood to the side of the platform made her blood run cold. There was a thick, blackened wooden post, about twenty feet high. At its base was a huge pile of dry wood branches and twigs with steps rising above them to a small platform. Bella understood that she would soon be fastened to that stake to be burned alive in front of all these people. But that was not until five o'clock, and the church clock in the square showed it was still shortly before noon. The boy had been right again! Bella shuddered, tears streaming down her face.

The cart pulled up at the rear of the platform, in an area separated from the baying crowd by stout fencing. One of the horsemen climbed into Bella's cart and released her chain before helping her down to the ground where the apprentice waited.

“Wow! What a great crowd, girlie,” he enthused. “This is going to be a great show. Don't let me down now, girlie. We want plenty of screamin', yellin' and squirmin' and make it last right to the end, girlie!”

With that, the boy took Bella's chain from the horseman and led her up the steps at the back of the platform and on to the structure. The crowd screamed and shouted afresh as they saw the pretty, young witch led out to the centre of the front of the platform. Bella looked down at the baying throng below her through tear-filled eyes. She was pleased that they could not get at her, as she was sure they would have torn her apart, such was their hatred. She looked around for a familiar face, and thought she recognised one or two, but they were so full of hate she thought she must be mistaken. She felt so alone, and so vulnerable up on this platform naked and chained.

The apprentice walked Bella around the platform, allowing the frenzied crowd a good view of the little witch, but keeping her far enough from the edge so she could not jump off and bring an early end to the spectacle. He also showed Bella the various pieces of apparatus on the platform, though the poor girl was too petrified to take any notice of the strange contraptions and his patient descriptions. She did however take in the massive stake she had noticed earlier, and Bella stood for a few minutes in its huge shadow, looking up at the awful structure and imagining herself there with flames slowly rising to lick around her legs and gradually devour her lovely body. She shook her head and wailed.

“Don't worry, girlie,” the boy whispered in her ear. “You'll be beggin' to be put up there and burned long before five o'clock!”

He tugged on her chain and led the girl back to the front of the platform where the magistrate waited.

Chapter 16 – Noon Appointment

The apprentice held Bella's chain firmly at her collar to ensure the witch could not move as the magistrate waited for the crowd noise to subside and the church clock to strike.

The first chime of the noon bells rang in the ears of the crowd to be greeted with loud cheers and more raucous shouts. After the twelfth chime the magistrate held his arms up and bade the crowd be quiet. He unfurled the official looking scroll and addressed the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, fellow God-fearing villagers, pray be quiet while I make this announcement. Before us today we have the witch Bella.” He gestured to the chained girl standing just a yard to his left.

“This witch has confessed to using witchcraft to concoct potions that have poisoned many of our friends and neighbours. She has used the power of the Devil to try and seduce the innocent, young son of the noble Duke and she has poisoned the minds of many young girls in this village and others nearby. Through her evil pact with the Devil, this witch coerced our dear daughters, wives and sisters into joining her coven to fornicate with the Devil and do the Devil's work. Many of you, my dear friends, have seen loved ones lost to God and to you because of this vile witch. She has betrayed the love and friendship we all gave her, and left a deep scar on the lives of us all.”

The crowd bayed their agreement, their blood lust obvious and extreme.

“We are grateful to the Holy Grand Inquisitor and his loyal assistants for their hard work and devotion to God in finding out the truth about this vile witch and delivering her to us for just punishment and execution.”

The apprentice took a bow as the crowd cheered, though some seemed rather less than enthusiastic about the Inquisitor's role in recent events.

“As a confessed witch, she is guilty of the most profound heresy and in accord with holy law she has been duly sentenced to be burned at the stake in order to cleanse her body of the Devil and save her immortal soul. We will conduct the execution at five o'clock sharp.”

More loud cheers erupted from the crowd.

“Because of the seriousness of her offences to the people of this village, the witch has been further sentenced to suffer prolonged and painful punishment as just penance for her heinous crimes of betrayal. That punishment will commence forthwith and continue up to the time of her execution.”

More loud applause and chanting from the crowd; many shouting out suggested forms of punishment. Poor Bella could not believe what she was hearing. Everything the apprentice had told her was turning out to be true. She looked down at the heaving crowd and saw nothing but sheer hatred, even on the faces of the children who had slipped to the front of the crowd to scream and shake their tiny fists at her. She sobbed in utter misery.

“To carry out the sentence we have commissioned the most respected executioner in the county, known as the Dispatcher.”

The crowd cheered as a huge man strode onto the platform, closely followed by four smaller henchmen. All were dressed in black leather trousers and heavy boots and wore black face masks. They bowed to the crowd. Bella shuddered as the apprentice handed her chain to the man who was going to punish her for five hours and then burn her at the stake. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, but saw only sadistic lust in the dark eyes that glared back at her from the narrow eye slits in his leather mask. He held her chain tightly as the magistrate concluded his introductions.

“The first punishment for this vile witch will be a public fucking. This will commence in fifteen minutes. Anyone who wishes to partake in carrying out this part of the witch's sentence can buy a ticket from the booth. Winning tickets will be picked at random and winners can fuck the witch in her cunt or arse for a maximum of ten minutes. This punishment will last until two o'clock. I have it on good authority that the witch has been cleansed of the Devil in her cunt and arse, so there will be no risk of unholy infection. Furthermore, she was until recently virgin in both holes and remains tight and responsive, so assisting in her punishment should be a very rewarding way of serving God and our community. Demand for tickets will be high, so go and buy yours now! Fucking objects are available for hire to any ladies who wish to take a turn.”

There was mass movement in the crowd as many men rushed towards the booth, eager to be first to fuck the gorgeous, young witch. Many had seen Bella selling her herbs and were very aware of her beauty. Some had been tipped off that they would get the chance to fuck her as part of her punishment. They were relieved to see her in such good shape after the poor condition of the other condemned witches. Some of those that rushed to the booth were brothers, boyfriends, husbands or fathers of those poor girls, whom Bella's witchcraft had condemned. They now saw an opportunity for a pleasurable revenge on the pretty, little herbseller.

While the crowd clamoured for their tickets, poor Bella was dragged to one side by the executioner to be prepared for her first ordeal. She hoped her wrists would be released from their awful, painful bondage but her tormentors evidently had different ideas. She found herself pulled up to a wooden rail supported by two posts. The rail pressed into the tops of her thighs. Her ankle manacles were removed by one of the henchmen, who then re-fastened her right ankle to an ankle cuff that was attached to the floor by a chain of only one link. The man then kicked Bella's left ankle outwards until it was three feet from her right one and fastened that to another cuff in the floor. The man holding her chain at her neck then pulled it forwards and downwards, forcing Bella to bend at a right angle over the wooden rail. He then fastened the end of her chain to a ring in the floor below her neck. With her wrists still trapped in their manacles, Bella's firm, young breasts were now thrust downwards where they dangled enticingly. She was positioned right at the front of the platform in a corner, where she offered the crowd good views of both front and rear. Her grease and sweat soaked body glistened delightfully in the bright midday sunshine, her pale skin marred only by reddening blotches where the sun beat down on her shoulders.

As she waited for the first ticket to be drawn, poor Bella could now also feel the burning sun on her exposed back. She was in constant discomfort from the terrible strain on her shoulders and she felt humiliated by what the villagers were doing to her. Her exposed breasts felt vulnerable hanging down below her, and she could feel the air on her spread arse and pussy. She just could not believe the people she had lived with all her life were now going to fuck her in public and enjoy her suffering. Fresh tears seeped from her lovely, green eyes as she raised her head to look out at the crowd. To her right the magistrate was picking out the first winning ticket.

“Ladies and Gentleman!” he shouted. “Before I announce the number of the first public spirited volunteer to fuck the vile witch, I have been asked inform you that the Holy Grand Inquisitor's apprentice – over here at the front of the platform – has managed to obtain certain artefacts which he is now able to offer you. During the witch's questioning at the hands of the Grand Inquisitor, her armpit and pubic hairs were carefully removed, along with her fingernails and several, long strands of her hair. These items are available for sale from the apprentice during the course of the afternoon. I am informed that such items taken from the living body of a condemned witch offer excellent protection from the forces of evil, particularly when taken from a young and beautiful female such as this one. The pubic hairs were removed when the witch was still virgin, which makes them especially valuable.”

He gestured towards Bella, and the executioner grasped her ponytail and pulled her head viciously back to display her face to the crowd.

“Though this witch is evil and has committed the most appalling crimes, you can see her youth and undoubted beauty for yourselves. I am sure these items will be in great demand, so please see the apprentice now to avoid disappointment.”

Bella watched dumbfounded as she saw the apprentice laying out samples for the crowd to see, and then handing them over to eager villagers in return for a few coins. Her throat tightened, not just from the constriction of her neck, and she breathed fast as the executioner kept her head pulled back. The hot sun shone down on her and she was bathed in greasy sweat. Her eyes glazed over and she thought she was about to faint, but the executioner saw the signs and released her ponytail. Bella's head dropped down and her breath returned as the blood rushed to her head and her eyes slowly cleared. She waited for the magistrate to announce the number of her first tormentor.

Chapter 17 - Vengeance

“The first volunteer is number 147,” proclaimed the magistrate. There was a loud murmur in the crowd as people examined their tickets in disappointment – all except one large, barrel-chested man who held his hand up and shouted in triumph. Amid much merry teasing and no little jealousy the man pushed his way through the crowd to the steps at the back of the platform. Bella peered down at him as he passed in front of her. She recognised the man as a local farmer, but did not think she knew his name. She was fairly sure he had a daughter who was a few years older than her. She hoped he would be gentle with her.

As the farmer approached the bound witch, the executioner intercepted him and whispered some instructions in his ear. The farmer nodded and waited for a moment while the magistrate made another announcement.

“The punishment of the witch will commence at quarter past twelve on the church clock,” he stated. “At twenty past I'll draw the number of the next volunteer, for them to take over at twenty-five past. We'll carry on like that, but every half an hour there will be a five-minute rest in order that we can check on the condition of the witch. We don't want her expiring prematurely, do we?”

Bella tried to twist her head to see the farmer, and beg him for mercy, but she could not make eye contact. She noticed him pulling down his trousers and releasing a huge, semi-erect cock and she turned her head away again. She saw the minute hand of the church clock creeping inexorably towards the quarter and felt her panic rising. She looked out into the crowd and bawled, “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be a witch and bring so much unhappiness to you all. Please forgive me. I thought you were my friends. Please don't let them do this to me. Please. Please. I'll go far away and never come back. Just please let me go. Please. Please! Please!!”

Bella's words were drowned in a crescendo of howls and abuse from the raucous crowd as the church clock struck the quarter hour. Immediately she felt the warm breath of the farmer on the back of her neck and his thighs pressing against her taught hamstrings. She shrieked as she felt a huge, rough hand stroke her greasy slit and she tried to wiggle her arse to escape his probing touch. She saw his other hand reach forward to cup her dangling left breast and squeeze it viciously until tallow seeped from around his thick, stubby fingers and dripped onto the wooden platform below.

Bella screamed in pain as her left boob throbbed in agony. She thrashed her head around madly as if she were trying to throw the pain from her brain. The crowd roared their approval.

The enormous hand left Bella's breast and grabbed her ponytail, twisting her head up and to the left. She saw the face of the farmer just a few inches away and stared in fear at his hate-filled features.

“You fucking evil witch,” he growled at her. “Last week they burned my lovely daughter because of you. They said you corrupted her. She was beautiful, my daughter, and all I had in the world since my dear wife died last year. Burning's too good for you. I'm going to enjoy seeing you suffer this afternoon, and I hope you burn in Hell for ever, but nothing's going to bring my wonderful daughter back. Don't dare ask me for mercy, you despicable whore.”

He released Bella's hair and took half a step back to guide his now fully erect cock towards her sopping, exposed pussy. He pressed the bulbous head of his huge prick into the entrance to the young witch's cunt and slowly parted her juicy lips. Then with one huge lunge he forced it fully home making the wooden rail creak loudly and threaten to break. Bella screamed as she felt the huge cock slip easily and deeply into her, stretching her cunt walls and filling her completely. The farmer grabbed Bella's slippery hips and pulled out until the slimy tip of his cock almost exited the girl's cunt, and then he lunged in again, using all his considerable force to pump into the chained girl. The copious amounts of tallow inside Bella's cunt allowed a smooth, fast pistoning action, and ensured the girl would not be seriously injured by her brutal fucking. Nevertheless it was a very painful and profoundly humiliating experience for poor Bella, who howled and bawled with every long, fast, deeply penetrating thrust of the strong, energetic farmer.

The crowd roared the farmer on, encouraging him to split the evil witch in two with ever faster and deeper pummelling of her young pussy. They paused their baying only briefly as the second winning number was announced and the victor gleefully made his way to the platform. Meanwhile the farmer continued his vengeful fucking of the young witch, groaning with his exertion as his energy was gradually sapped. He was determined to last the full ten minutes and he gritted his teeth as he pounded away on his young victim, dripping saliva and sweat onto her slim, bent back.

The farmer faltered in his fast-paced rhythm. He groaned and leant forward, releasing the girl's slim hips to grab both her swaying breasts this time. Bella screamed anew at the added pain and humiliation as the farmer again squeezed sadistically on her sensitive boobs. After a few more thrusts Bella felt the farmer's cock spasm inside her and she sensed his fierce spurts of male semen. He shuddered a few times, before releasing her sore breasts and extracting his slimy, limp cock from her. He spat in disgust on the witch's back as he replaced his trousers and turned to leave the platform amid rapturous applause from the crowd.

Bella hung her head and sobbed. She could not believe what the farmer had done to her in front of all these people. She remembered his hatred of her, his utter contempt, and how he blamed her for the loss of his beloved daughter. And worse of all – he was right! She felt wretched, sick, and for the first time she began to realise why the apprentice had told her she would welcome the stake – maybe she could even wish to go there now and end it all!

Poor Bella had no time for morbid contemplation, however, as the next volunteer was already touching up her dripped cunt. She had not even seen him come to the platform, so did not have any idea who he was. Within seconds, though, he had entered her with another large, rock-hard cock and was building a fast tempo accompanied by grunts and groans of lustful pleasure. The wooden rail creaked and squeaked in unison and Bella gasped for breath in the stifling heat and in the face of another cruel battering.

Displaying remarkable stamina, this volunteer kept a steady, fast pace for the whole ten minutes. Like the farmer, he mauled the screaming girl's vulnerable breasts before he squirted his load in her sore cunt. He slapped her bum as he stepped back just as his time lapsed. The crowd cheered again.

The third volunteer stepped immediately into position. He eyed the girl's arse in its taught, bent-over posture. He parted her round arse cheeks, eliciting a shriek and delicious wiggle from the terrified witch. He bent down slightly and looked intently at her twitching, little anus. It certainly looked tight, even if it still bore a little reddening from the Inquisitor's earlier attentions. He then parted her wet, greasy sex lips and looked closely there. He preferred cunt to arse really, and even if he was third in line he would rather take her there. The tallow had preserved her well so far, and she still looked to be quite tight, her young muscles having recovered well from her fuckings to date. His rampant cock told him what he already knew and he quickly thrust deeply into the girl's sex, saving her arse for another volunteer. He was rewarded with a long, loud groan from the agonised girl. Her cunt was getting more sore now, and every fucking would be cumulatively more painful for her. He smiled at her discomfort and pounded her harder, concentrating solely on his own pleasure.

He dug his fingernails deeply into Bella's ribcage to keep a good grip on her slippery body, grinning as a little blood appeared around his fingertips. He looked up at the crowd; their early fervour now a little sated, and slapped Bella's flank viciously to elicit a whimper from her and a cheer from their bloodthirsty audience. He then yanked hard on Bella's ponytail, forcing her pain-filled, grimacing face upwards for the crowd to see. He lasted his full ten minutes with ease, keeping up his fast-riding pace until he was ready to fill her ravaged cunt with still more semen. He acknowledged the cheers of the crowd as he released Bella's hair, allowing the exhausted girl to slump in her painful bondage.

Bella was roused by a bucket of lukewarm water poured slowly over her head by one of the executioner's henchmen. The crowd laughed as the poor girl slowly shook her head and spat out some of the foul tasting liquid that had entered her mouth. Thankfully she was soon offered a drink of more sustaining watery wine, which she took thirstily. Meanwhile, behind her she felt yet another hand fingering her sore cunt, but this one was smearing yet more greasy tallow into her to try and preserve her for the many volunteers still waiting for their turn.

All too soon for Bella the next man was ready to continue her painful, humiliating, punitive fucking. Her cunt was certainly becoming more tender and her agony was overtaking her shame with every brutal thrust from her latest attacker. She had long since given up pleading for mercy and now just concentrated on fighting the pain that coursed through her body from her pounded sex.

Like his predecessors, this volunteer took delight in abusing Bella's dangling, sore tits while he fucked her, tweaking and twisting her pink nipples until she cried out in pain and squirmed as much as her bonds would allow.

And so it continued, as one after another the lucky winners took their turn to fuck the gorgeous, young witch, each trying to coax a wriggling, screaming performance from the chained beauty that would excite the crowd and earn him cheers and hearty backslaps. At her second five-minute break, Bella felt as if her body was being split in two – the agony from her sex was so intense. The hot summer sun had painfully scorched the tender, pale skin on her shoulders and the top of her back and had heated her heavy iron collar and her manacles to such an extend that blisters were forming on her slender neck and wrists. Flies were starting to gather on her sore, sweating, greasy skin and she felt wretched as she waited, sobbing for her humiliating, public fucking to start up again.

The seventh volunteer took up his position behind her and noticed the thin trickle of greasy blood just seeping from her red raw cunt, in spite of the re-application of yet more tallow in the break. This was enough to persuade the thirty-year-old merchant to try out a woman's arse for the first time in his life. His wife never let him take her there, and he had always wondered what it would be like. Now his number had come up and he had the chance to find out.

Bella's eyes popped wide open and she tried to look behind her as she felt her arse cheeks parted. “No!” she screamed hoarsely and she bucked her body, loudly clanking the chain that secured her neck to the platform. The man grinned and probed her arse with his fingers, gently pulling at the muscles that surrounded her arse hole. Bella struggled again and the crowd urged him on – they had been waiting a long time for someone to take the witch up the arse. He looked at the church clock and was dismayed to find that three of his ten minutes had already passed. There was no more time to waste. He grabbed his shaft and quickly rubbed it to full hardness, trying to think how wonderful it would be to fuck this pretty girl in her arse as hard as he liked with impunity. His erection now rock hard, he used his thumbs to force apart the shivering girl's sphincter and edged the end of his cock towards her arse hole. Bella wiggled her backside deliciously as she tried all she could to avoid being penetrated. She remembered only too well the horrendous pain of the Inquisitor's arse fucking and she would do anything to stop it happening again. The crowd cheered louder than ever as they saw the witch struggling and fighting their man. They encouraged him with lewd words of advice and some rather unhelpful hand gestures. He just knew he had to do it now – there could be no going back!

The man tried to keep a firm grip on Bella's slickly greased backside while he thrust his groin towards her, aiming his cock at her elusive arse hole. He felt his tip hit the target and pushed hard. Bella felt him at her entrance and tightened her anal muscles as hard as she could. It hurt her to do so, as the injuries from the Inquisitor's brutal pricking and fucking were still not fully healed, but she was determined not to let him in. She twisted her hips violently and her assailant's cock slipped out and up her arse crack as he lurched forward. The crowd jeered and she heard the man curse her and felt him try to further tighten his grip on her slippery arse.

Bella's eyes were wide open and staring as she felt the man prising her arse cheeks apart again. She stayed still until she once more felt the tip of his cock touch against her anus. She gritted her teeth and tightened her muscles again as hard as she could, just managing to prevent his cock slipping inside her. Then, when she felt his grip on her slacken a little as he tried to prise her open with his thumbs, Bella bucked her hips frantically and managed again to dislodge his frustrated member.

The crowd were loving this game. They knew the pretty, little witch would inevitably lose her war this afternoon, but many were quite happy to see her win a small battle on the way and give them some priceless entertainment.

The man was close to panic. He looked at the clock – only three minutes left. Public humiliation was staring him in the face. If only he'd fucked the whore's cunt like everyone else had. Why had he tried to be different, to be clever? Sweat was pouring down his face as he tried again to force his way into the witch's arse hole. This time his sweaty fingers kept slipping, and then, just when he'd got a good firm grip on the girl's arse cheeks, his cock lost its hardness and he knew he was finished.

Bella was panting with her exertion in the baking hot afternoon sun as the man hurriedly dressed and ran off the platform and through the village streets, the lewd chants of the crowd ringing in his ears.

“I told you the witch had a tight arse, didn't I?” shouted the magistrate to the raucous crowd. He was very pleased with that last piece of entertainment – a happy crowd were more likely to part with their money.

“Nevertheless,” he continued. “The purpose of today is to punish this evil witch, so if any of the other loyal volunteers wishes to fuck her arse, we'll be happy to help open her up a little for you.”

The next volunteer was already in place behind Bella, and he motioned to the executioner. One of the henchmen immediately grabbed Bella's ponytail and pulled and twisted her head agonisingly, making it impossible for her to move at all without excruciating pain to her neck. Two others roughly pulled apart her arse cheeks, exposing her puckering sphincter to her assailant.

Bella was petrified. She knew this next man was going to fuck her up her arse, but this time she was utterly helpless to stop him. She wailed her agony, fresh tears pouring down her flushed cheeks, as she awaited the inevitable horror.

The man easily guided his throbbing cock to the entrance to the witch's arse hole. He felt the tightened muscles protecting the hole, but easily inserted the strong, thick, middle finger of his right hand down to the knuckle. He drank in the agonised wail of the defenceless witch that accompanied his act. Next, he inserted the middle finger of his left hand and then he pulled the two fingers apart until the hole was wide enough to take the first three inches of his large, rock hard penis.

The crowd were quiet as they watched the four large men manhandling the tiny, chained girl. Somehow, the overwhelming odds seemed a little unfair. The volunteer then thrust forward, forcing his thick shaft deeper into the girl's greased anus. At this point the other three men released their grip on the young witch and allowed the volunteer to continue his fucking. The crowd started cheering him on now he was alone with the witch, and he relished his moment of triumph. Poor Bella felt as though her whole body was being impaled. The cock up her arse was horrible, incredibly painful and deeply humiliating. She screamed, and then let her head hang down and sobbed uncontrollably at this unforgivable violation.

The volunteer fought to push on and insert the full length of his cock in the girl's tight, grease-filled arse hole. He grimaced with the effort, his hands fighting for grip on the girl's slick flanks. Eventually, fully inserted, he slowly pulled out, drawing large globs of tallow from the witch's arse hole, which fell to the platform and left snail tracks down her twitching thighs. He pushed in again; it was easier now and after a few more slow strokes he was able to increase his pace a little.

Bella felt as if her arse was burning, in spite of all the tallow the apprentice had inserted in her. She screamed non-stop now, her voice cracking as her throat became raw. She was becoming more certain now; she wanted to die.

The man came inside the witch's arse and removed his grease-sodden cock. He noticed a tint of red in the grease and knew the girl was bleeding, but it was of no concern to him.

Bella's ninth and final assailant took his place behind her and decided which orifice he should fuck. Blood was seeping from both, which was good as he wanted to cause the vile creature as much pain as he possibly could. A builder, his dear, young wife had been one of those at the great mass burning of six condemned witches in a village a few miles away. He had watched in horror as the six had slowly burned to death. He still had nightmares of the flames licking around his beautiful, blond wife and gradually consuming her while he had looked on helplessly. He still heard her awful cries of agony and saw her lovely, long hair flare up as the flames grew higher, burning her lovely face as she took her last gasping breath on the stake. He was sure that her last days in the hands of the Grand Inquisitor had been more awful than he dared imagine. He could see from her eyes that she had been horribly tortured before the burning to make her confess.

He had never known Bella, and was sure that his wife had never known her either. He was absolutely certain that his wife had never been a witch, but he hated Bella for bringing the Inquisitor to the area and for the dreadful consequences for his family. Not only had he lost his lovely wife, but the Inquisitor had seized his home and land and he now had nothing. His only reason to live was to see this vile witch Bella suffer and die more horribly than his wife had.

Having watched the witch's strenuous efforts to resist anal penetration, he knew which hole he had to fuck. He entered her sore arse hole with no hesitation, revelling in the girl's agonised screams. He pumped her arse as hard and fast as he possibly could, and sought out another target to attack as well. He reached forward to grasp her swinging breasts and squeezed with all his strength as he continued to fuck her. He found her sore nipples and gripped each between a thumb and forefinger and pressed together as hard as he could. He twisted them viciously; each act of torture eliciting yet more screeches and screams from his pain-filled enemy.

Bella felt as if her arse was on fire and she was sure her nipples would burst open under the intensity of the man's attack. She felt the builder's hot breath on her neck as he rutted her violently with pure hatred. While some of the crowd cheered him on, others became aware and a little frightened of the intensity of his attack on the girl.

All too soon for the vengeful builder his ten minutes were over and the executioner tapped him on the shoulder and told him to finish off. He reluctantly released the witch's throbbing, swollen nipples and extracted his still-erect cock from her gooey, bloody arse hole. He squeezed his cock hard, and spurted his cum over the girl's trembling arse and onto her sweaty back. As he watched the mixture of semen, grease and blood start to flow down the witch's thighs, he wiped his slimy member on a cloth and left the platform, eager to get a good view of the witch's next torment.

As she sobbed in desperation, Bella at last felt her wrists being released from their painfully positioned manacles and the collar was removed from her sore neck. Her back ached madly from nearly two hours of bending over the wooden rail and she had not the strength to stand up. A rough hand in her hair and a quick yank upwards forced her painfully upright, while her ankles were also released from their chains. For the first time in weeks Bella found herself unshackled, but in no position or condition to attempt an escape.

Before she could think of soothing her aching body, Bella found her wrists grabbed by two henchmen and she was marched a few yards to her right to where two tall, thick posts stood about four feet apart. With her back to the expectant crowd, Bella found her wrists placed in shackles chained to the top of each post. Within seconds Bella found her ankles similarly shackled, leaving her standing spread-eagled between the posts. She was not stretched, but found each chain only allowed a few inches of slack. As the scorching summer sun continued to beat down onto her, one of the henchmen gave Bella another drink as the magistrate again addressed the eager crowd.

“The next punishment in the witch's sentence is to be a whipping of the back of the witch's vile body. The sentence will be carried out by our highly skilled executioner. He will lay on ten strokes of the strap, to be followed immediately with ten strokes of the short whip. After a break of ten minutes he will lay on thirty strokes of the long whip.”

The crowd applauded enthusiastically, though some yelled out that the whipping was not severe enough, or that they should instead whip the witch's titties.

“During the course of the punishment, you will have the opportunity to show your appreciation of the executioner's skill and effort by contributing in the tins provided. I'm sure your generosity will be greatly appreciated when it comes to administering later punishments to the condemned witch.”

Chapter 18 – The Second Punishment

The executioner picked up his first instrument of flagellation. It was a thick leather strap, some three inches wide and two feet long with a short wooden handle. Several holes about half an inch in diameter had been punched through the strap along its entire length. He knew this instrument very well, and had used it many times in his work. He had seen its effects on male and female flesh of all ages, and he particularly enjoyed using it on young, pretty females like the one bound in front of him now. He knew the crowd were expecting a good show, with plenty of screaming and wriggling from his lovely victim, and some nice whip marks on the girl's flawless skin. This strap made a good prelude to the more serious whippings to follow. He knew it would make a good loud slap on the girl's sweaty back and redden her skin enough for the crowd to see. The holes in the strap would pinch her skin painfully, adding to the volume of her inevitable screams, and would produce some brighter marks on her pale flesh.

He paraded up and down in front of the crowd a few times, showing them his instrument and demonstrating his whipping style. He noticed a few coins being dropped into the collection tins, but knew that most would only reward him after they had been entertained. At last he approached the bound, whimpering girl and calmly pulled her ponytail up and placed it over her right shoulder to dangle down onto her sweaty right breast. He stroked his hand down her twitching, bare, freckled back. He saw the sunburn on her trembling shoulders and the upper part of her back and frowned. Although this would help make the whipping even more painful, her tender skin would cut more easily and bleed more, rendering her more likely to early fainting or even death – and that would certainly not do!

He called to the Inquisitor's apprentice, who was standing nearby having sold all his souvenirs. He approached Bella carrying a large tub and scooped out yet more grease to spread on her sore shoulders and back.

“Well, girlie, I 'ope you enjoyed that first punishment, 'cos it just gets worse from 'ere,” he whispered in her ear. “This first whippin' is just to warm you up, but the next ones will 'urt a lot more. I've sold all my stuff and made a tidy profit, thanks, but I still want you to put on a good show for the rest of the day, as I'm due a cut of the takin's. So scream nice and loud and wiggle that pretty arse of yours, girlie.”

He spread the grease down her back and into her arse cheeks before giving her an affectionate slap and moving back into a good position to watch the girl's suffering, making sure he didn't obstruct the view of the expectant crowd.

Next the executioner moved to inspect his victim one last time before her began her whipping. Bella felt his hot breath on her neck again and then his hand on her back. Then she saw him move around in front of her and show her the fearsome strap in his hand. He slapped it on his leather-clad thigh and then posed for a few seconds in front of her, showing off his muscular arms and chest and growling menacingly at her. His posturing had the desired effect as he saw the slim girl turn her head away and sob. Poor Bella had never been beaten in her life and she had no idea how she could possibly survive being hit with that awful, heavy strap by the huge, powerful monster of a man. Surely he would kill her with his first blow!

The crowd roared their encouragement as the executioner strode to his position behind and slightly to the left of his terrified victim. People strained their necks to get a perfect view of the strap as it slapped against the girl's lovely flesh.

The executioner got the nod from the magistrate and pulled his right arm back. Shifting his weight forward as he swung the strap in a wide, horizontal arc, he aimed for the very centre of the girl's slim back, just a couple of ribs up from the bottom of her rib cage.

Bella heard the whish of the strap as it cut through the air and she held her breath, terrified at the anticipation of the awful impact. She felt the heavy contact of the strap across the middle of her back just before she heard the loud slap of the hard leather on her greasy skin. She lurched forward in her bonds uncontrollably, her chains clanking and her wrists and ankles chaffing in their unyielding iron restraints. She tried to scream, but had not the breath in her lungs to do so. She felt her sweaty back smart where the leather had hit her, but not the excruciating pain she had so feared. She tried to regain her breath and then groaned loudly as she recovered her balance to take the strain off her wrists and ankles.

The executioner waited a few seconds for the girl's pale skin to redden. The crowd applauded, having enjoyed the heavy impact of the strap and the witch's sweat spraying over the platform. They knew the strapping was just a warm up to the much harsher whippings to follow, and they wanted to encourage their expert executioner to provide them with the most entertaining show.

The Dispatcher took a step forward to look more closely at the mark left by his first lash of the strap. He prodded the sore flesh with his finger, eliciting a low groan from his victim. He decided that the strength of his lash was about right for the nine remaining strokes with this instrument. He would spread them evenly along the length of the girl's spine, and save the last three for her nice, round arse.

The executioner resumed his place and took aim just below the mark left by his first stroke. He swung again and brought the strap down hard on the girl's back, right on target of course.

Bella was more prepared for this stroke, but its force still almost took her off her feet, and she gasping audibly as she fought to retain her balance. She sniffed as fresh tears trickled slowly down her flushing cheeks.

The next two strokes continued to mark Bella's back down to the top of her backside, creating an almost unbroken patch of blotchy red skin on her slim body.

The next three strokes marked her from the middle of her sore back up to near her trembling shoulders. The last of these struck an area where her skin was already very sore from sunburn and this provoked a sharp scream from Bella that was clearly heard by the appreciative crowd. Just a few tiny lines of blood appeared where the strap had abraded the tender skin.

Bella was not counting the strokes, but was reminded that three more were still due by the loud voice of the magistrate, who seemed to be enjoying shouting out the lashes.

The Dispatcher then turned his aim a little lower, and eyed up the girl's unblemished, pale, quivering arse cheeks. He smiled as to took aim for the top half of her arse and this time he swung with even more force, knowing that the fatty flesh of a woman's bum could take much more punishment than the thinner skin of her back.

The stroke on her backside took Bella by surprise and she howled in shock as much as in pain. She wiggled her arse to try and dissipate the heat and pain as the crowd roared in joyous approval.

The final two strokes with the strap reddened the writhing girl's arse cheeks; the very last pinching her very painfully just where her creases met the tops of her thighs. The crowd loved this erotic finale to the strapping and gave rapturous applause to the executioner as he turned and bowed to them, sweat glistening on his broad, hairy chest from his exertions under the boiling sun. He was pleased to hear the tinkle of more coins in the collection tins and we took a well-deserved drink from one of his henchmen.

“Due to the exceptionally hot weather, we'll allow the condemned witch a short break now and a drink to keep her energy levels up. Ten strokes of the short whip will follow in five minutes,” the magistrate informed the crowd. “We have some lovely maidens from local taverns going around selling ale and mead if you find yourselves also in need of refreshment.”

The 'lovely maidens' were mainly the older wives of the tavern owners – any comely tavern girls having been quickly rounded up by the Inquisitor's men many weeks ago. They had also been instructed to give a large proportion of their takings to the magistrate, so he was happy to allow plenty of drinks breaks.

A henchman thrust a goblet of mead into Bella's parched mouth and she gulped down the contents. She raised her head to look at the masked man, seeking out some tiny sign of compassion in him – but like with all the others, she saw only sadistic lust in his piercing, dark, eyes. She saw nothing to gain by pleading with this monster.

Suitably refreshed, the Dispatcher picked up his next whipping instrument and looked lovingly at his craftsman made short whip. Made specially for him, it was beautifully balanced with a thick, polished, shaped, wooden handle attached to three strands of hard-cured tight-plaited black leather ranging from three to three and a half feet long. Securely woven into the strands were a dozen sharp metal barbs, shining evilly in the bright sunlight. This instrument was designed to inflict dual injuries on its victim; heavy, bruising weals from the plaited leather and tiny, deep, bleeding cuts from the sharp barbs. With a full ten strokes to administer on quite a small, slim, young victim, his only concern was not to damage the witch too much and weaken her prematurely.

He marched to and fro at the front of the platform, swinging his beloved whip around as the crowd gasped. Although they had now seen many witch executions in recent weeks, some with pre-burning whippings or fuckings, the local villagers had never known such a prolonged or professionally organised event, and this whip was by far the most ferocious instrument of punishment most of them had ever seen. The metal barbs made a high-pitched whistling noise as the Dispatcher swung his whip energetically through the air. Poor Bella could hear the noise and looked with trepidation over her shoulder to see the show. She couldn't believe what she saw, and she quickly turned her head away again and mumbled a quiet prayer to herself.

Her prayers were interrupted as the executioner stood before her and swung the tips of his whip playfully against her left breast, lightly caressing her sore nipple with one of the sharp, metal barbs.

“Please. No. That's too much for me. I can't take that. You'll tear me apart. You'll kill me,” she mumbled, almost to herself, not daring to look the Dispatcher in the eye.

The man was gone, and Bella heard the crowd shouting encouragement behind her. The executioner took his position. He loved using this whip, not only because of the wonderful effect it had on its victim, but also because its short length meant he had to stand close and could see and hear his suffering victim's every reaction at very close hand.

He pulled his strong right arm back and took aim. This time he took his mark from a lovely, dark freckle about a third of the way down her slim, trembling back. He didn't need to put his full weight into the strokes with this whip, as the metal barbs in the leather strands would give the whip ample speed at impact to cause incredible suffering for this little witch. He thus concentrated on his technique, and ensured the three strands of his whip spread evenly across his target area; the centre strand hitting right on the freckle, with one three inches above it and the other three inches below.

Bella heard the whip whistling through the air and braced herself in terror. Her ear-splitting scream seemed to leave her throat before the whip had even landed and the awful, sharp, agonising pain erupted in her sore back. She felt the dual punishment keenly; the thud of the hard leather beating at her skin and thumping at her ribs, and the vicious bite of the tiny metal barbs as they ate into the thin layers of flesh on her back.

As his victim writhed and moaned in fresh agony, the executioner looked at the wounds from his first stroke. Three dark weals were growing on her reddish skin, and many brighter, little dots were just starting to produce drops of ruby blood that threatened to turn into tiny rivers flowing down her slim back. He smiled at the exciting effects of that first stroke; his cock straining against his tight leather trousers. He knew he could probably get away with using a little more force, but with nine strokes left, and then thirty more with the long whip, some more restraint would be sensible for the time being.

To surprise the little witch, the executioner aimed his next stroke at the bottom creases of her bum cheeks, ensuring the lower strand would bite cruelly into the tops of her smooth, tight thighs. As he expected, the girl shrieked loudly at the agonising cut of the cruel whip, and jerked her hips to and fro as the crowd cheered their lustful appreciation.

Bella hated this fearful whip and the awful pain of every precisely aimed stroke. She was panting hard and sweating profusely in the afternoon sun. She prayed for the blessed relief of fainting, or even death, but she knew her tormentors would not allow that until they had inflicted a lot more pain and humiliation on her. In spite of her awful suffering, she knew her strength was still far from failing her young body. She could do nothing but try and bear the agony as well as she could. She awaited the next stroke, wherever the evil lashes would fall.

“Aaaahhh!” screamed the wretched girl as the hard, barbed leather whip smashed into her sore, burnt shoulders. As the awful pain gradually subsided, she could feel liquid trickling from the top of her back down her rib cage and she wondered if it was more grease and sweat, or if the whip had cut her. The roars of the crowd and the sharpness of her pain suggested the latter.

The executioner spread the remaining seven lashes of his prized whip evenly over the witch's sore back. Each stroke produced three long, dark, swollen weals and numerous tiny, bright red cuts, many of which leaked the girl's precious blood. The wounds on her sunburnt shoulders remained the worst, with several thin trickles of greasy blood flowing down to the middle of her shivering back.

The crowd applauded the Dispatcher's latest efforts with his short whip and encouraged him with more donations to the collection tins. He bowed and drank in their appreciation. He then left the platform for the shelter of the shade below to refresh himself before the longer, final whipping of this punishment.

There was no such respite for Bella, who was given more mead by a henchman, but had to remain standing chained between the two posts in the scorching, bright sunshine. Her back was dripping in grease and sweat and covered in nasty weals and cuts, making it sting like mad. Bella would have done anything for a rest in the shade or a dousing with refreshing cold water, but she had no option but to stand there and wait for her next punishment.

After a few minutes she felt a new pain in her tummy. She called out to the nearest henchman, “Excuse me, sir. I need to pee.”

He glared back at her incredulously. “Well go on then, you stupid, fucking witch. Do you think I care?”

Bella blushed. She hated the embarrassment of this public nudity, fucking and bondage, but she knew she had no choice but to pee where she stood, no matter how humiliating it would be. She closed her eyes and emptied her bladder, but instead of squirting out between her legs, her pungent, yellow pee ran down the inside of her right leg before puddling on the platform by her foot and eventually dripping between the planks to the hard earth below. The crowd soon noticed and jeered their contempt for the dirty, young girl. Several flies flew down to the diminishing puddle of pee by her right foot, while others landed on the sticky liquid on her leg. For a few moments Bella tried to kick them off but they soon returned and the girl grew weary of hurting her ankle on the unforgiving, hard, iron manacles.

The crowd roared again to welcome the return to the platform of their executioner, who swirled a long whip over his head before sending it snapping down onto the platform with a thunderous crack. He prowled the platform for several minutes, regularly cracking the whip to great applause. Poor Bella shuddered every time she heard the deafening crack; her fear rising with every second.

The Dispatcher loved this long whip as much as his short whip. It too was handmade for him by a specialist craftsman. It was simple in design, but deadly effective. The long, polished, wooden handle was again shaped to fit snugly in the grip of his large, right hand and the single, supple, black leather tail started from the handle with a width of about two inches but tapered quickly to a thin, sharp lash that split into two for the last twelve inches of its six foot length like a long, thin snake's tongue. This awesome weapon had only one purpose; to cut deeply into anything it struck. Its length allowed its user to generate enormous speed through the air, particularly in the last twelve inches where it split into the two, thinnest strands. In spite of its suppleness, the whip was remarkably strong, having been well cured from the finest cowhide. It would cut through the tender skin of this young witch with absolute ease, and the 'Dispatcher' knew he would have to use it today with the utmost care.

He moved in front of his cowering victim and showed her his whip. He slapped her face gently with the twelve inches of split leather, allowing her to feel its sharpness at low speed on the sensitive skin of her smooth cheek. This time Bella looked up at her executioner with tear-filled, pleading eyes, but she saw only his sadistic lust looking back at her. No matter what she said or did, he would enjoy using this fiendish instrument to cause maximum pain and injury to her body.

With the crowd becoming frenzied, he returned behind his victim and cracked his long whip a few more times on the platform. He had been looking forward to this moment from the first time he had discussed the punishment of the witch with the magistrate a few days ago. He had been told that she was young, slim and pretty – just the way he liked them. He had suggested that twenty lashes with this whip would be enough, but the magistrate had insisted on the full thirty, such was his desire to exact full revenge on this witch on behalf of the villagers. When he had first seen the girl just before noon today, her appearance had surpassed his expectations, and she had so far reacted well to her punishments, giving the crowd some good entertainment. His only criticism of her was that he wished she was more defiant and feisty, but that attitude seldom lasted long anyway.

The great thing about this whip was its versatility. He could stand directly behind his victim and cut across her back with just the tips of his whip, or he could stand to one side and wrap the whip around her, letting the evil tips cut into her flanks or her stomach, or even her breasts. If he wished, he could use the whip in an upward motion and flay her pussy and the insides of her thighs. Oh yes, this would be some performance, and he was going to enjoy it!

He looked hard at the trembling body of the little witch bound spread-eagled before him. He knew the crowd expected to see blood, and a lot of it, as well as hearing her scream her heart out and squirm in her chains. Her back was already sore all over and bruised and cut in many places, especially near her burnt shoulders. It would take only firm contact with the tails of this whip to cut her skin open and cause excessive bleeding. However, her bum cheeks could take quite a bit more punishment, and he could certainly seek out her tits and cunt with a few strokes.

Standing about four feet directly behind her, the executioner swirled his whip in the air and took a deliberate aim. The crowd grew hushed as with a deft flick of his wrist he sent the ends of his whip darting towards her, gathering speed with every second. With a loud crack the whip found its target and the witch screamed in pure agony as the fiery tongues of leather bit agonisingly into her tender flesh. The pattern of the whip seared in red on the witch's blotchy skin; a narrow line of fire that split into two even thinner cuts that quickly oozed scarlet blood. The whip had cut deep into the wretched girl's shoulders, where she was already so sore, in a slight diagonal ending at her right armpit.

The Dispatcher waited for a few seconds as the blood seeping from the cut started to trickle down the writhing, shivering witch's sweaty back. He knew he had taken a risk aiming at the most damaged part of her body, but he reasoned that the blood from that wound would soon spread down her back and impress the crowd, allowing him to go easier on her with some of his subsequent strokes.

As the whimpering girl finally settled, he raised his arm for his next stroke as the raucous crowd fell still again. He aimed much lower this time and struck across the fullest part of her arse cheeks. Bella screamed as loud as before and thrust her pelvis forward as the evil whip lashed her arse. She pulled hard at her chains, trying desperately to free her hands to allow her to soothe the awful fiery pain in her buttocks. She clenched her arse cheeks in case the next lash also landed there, much to the amusement of the baying crowd. She had no idea how she could possibly survive thirty of these hideous whip lashes. She sobbed uncontrollably.

The executioner remained in his position and swung his whip again with expert timing. The lash struck the outside of the witch's right thigh, just three inches below her arse, and the twin forks of leather wrapped painfully around her limb, biting into the taught skin on the inside and back of her leg. Bella kicked out with her leg, clanking her chains and overbalancing momentarily so she hung painfully from her wrist shackles. She looked down at her injured leg, seeing for the first time the results of her whipping. She cried as she saw the broken skin redden and start to bleed, staining her lovely, pale flesh with trickling blood.

The Dispatcher stroked his throbbing cock through his trousers as he re-gathered his whip and watched the line of blood well up on the witch's slender thigh. He would return there later. He moved a couple of paces nearer the girl and to her left before he swung his arm again. The lash cracked against the witch's back, just above her waist, and the twin ends flashed around to cut her flank and tummy just by her pretty navel.

Bella screamed yet again and writhed in her chains. Her stomach felt like it had been punched and sliced at the same time. She looked down at this latest line of agony searing her flesh and sobbed, certain that she would soon die under this relentless whipping.

The executioner continued his systematic, sadistic punishment of the condemned witch. He spared her sore, tender back the worst of the lashes; just ensuring there was enough blood showing to keep his crowd happy. They particularly appreciated it when the impact caused a spray of grease, sweat and blood, even if the actual lash caused only a light graze on her skin. He used all his skill to keep the young witch on the edge of agony without allowing any risk of her fainting or suffering serious blood loss. He took his time, often waiting over a minute between lashes, to prolong her anguish and to make sure his victim was reasonably still and he could aim his faithful whip with accuracy. He regularly sent the tails of his whip flicking agonisingly into the taught, tender skin of her sides, cutting her skin and causing rivulets of blood to flow down over her hips. Occasionally he would step forward again and wrap his whip around her body to scour and welt her tense stomach muscles. Many times he whipped her lovely, round arse cheeks soundly, leaving a complex pattern of criss-crossing cuts that covered her backside and hips in bloody wounds. He was harsh too on her smooth thighs, striping them five times each and causing the young witch to skip and leap in pain whenever he aimed his biting whip in their direction.

When the magistrate announced twenty strokes complete, the executioner paused to contemplate the final ten lashes of the witch's whipping. He knew the nature of her next scheduled punishment, and wanted to prepare her for that.

He stood four feet behind his victim and slightly to her right, so he could just see the swell of her right breast. Blood sprayed from the soaked tips of his whip as he swung it almost horizontally through the air for the twenty-first stroke of the witch's punishment. He flicked his wrist at just the right moment, sending the lash thudding into the girl's bloody side. The thin ends of the long whip hurtled around her chained body and cracked into her breasts, first into the lower slope of her right breast and then a split second later into the centre of her left breast, horribly stinging her just above her tender nipple.

Bella bucked and screamed at this latest sadistic assault. She looked in panic at her bruised breasts, now striped with a thin, sore, red line. Some of the crowd cheered, but others complained that they were unable to see the punishment of the pretty witch's lovely, firm tits and that the executioner should wait until she was better presented for breast punishment.

Heeding the crowd, the Dispatcher returned to the witch's arse for the next two strokes, eliciting some delicious writhing from the agonised girl. The crowd applauded.

Now the Dispatcher changed position again, standing directly behind the spread-eagled witch. He made an elaborate swing with his right arm, which culminated in an exaggerated wrist movement that sent the end of the whip upwards between the unsuspecting girl's wide-spread legs and deftly into her raw, greasy cunt with a loud crack.

Bella screeched at the surprising and vicious attack on her ravaged sex. She saw the bloody ends of the whip slithering back from between her legs as she danced in her chains, trying to rid the burning pain from her cunt. Before she could clear her head, her tormentor repeated the dose with another pinpoint accurate upward stroke of his spiteful whip. On tiptoe now, Bella sprang about as much as her chains would allow; her tender cunt on fire. A third successive lash into her sex in quick order produced another high-pitched scream and heart-rending plea for mercy from the tortured witch.

He crowd roared their approval of the Dispatcher's sadistic targetry.

In spite of the crowd's earlier reaction, the executioner returned to the witch's tits for the next lash, swinging his whip in an arc to sting the upper slopes of both perky boobs, leaving a second red stripe on each lovely breast. Despite another wildly erotic reaction from the suffering girl, some of the crowd again voiced their disapproval. The executioner knew he dared not attack the witch's tits again, so he returned to torture her cunt, this time pausing for effect between each of three brutal, burning lashes that sent the dancing girl into spasms of agony and despair. Her cunt lips swelled up and started bleeding under the ferocious beating, dripping greasy blood down her thighs to add to the blood from her striated legs.

The magistrate's proclamation told poor Bella of the end of her second punishment. She hung in her chains and sobbed in utter misery; her lovely body broken and bleeding. She could not decide where her pain was worst; her strapped and whipped back, her well-thrashed arse, her striped legs, her bruised breasts or her ravaged sex. A henchman appeared in front if her and poured yet more mead down her throat, but he offered her no other comfort.

The executioner turned and took the plaudits of the crowd, showing off his sweaty, blood splattered chest. He left the platform to rest for a few minutes in the cool of the shade while the magistrate announced the next punishment for the vile witch and his henchmen prepared her.

“This concludes the second just punishment of the condemned witch. Please show your appreciation for a really expert display from our executioner, the Dispatcher.”

More applause followed that announcement, but some called out to encourage the magistrate to get on with the next punishment. The magistrate held up his hands.

“The next punishment for the condemned witch, as decided by due judicial process, will be punishment of the witch's breasts and genitals. As the vile witch has been found guilty of giving succour to the Devil with these parts of her evil body, this punishment will need to be especially severe.”

This announcement was met with huge cheers from a crowd now becoming more rowdy, being well lubricated with mead and ale in the hot summer sun.

“The next punishment will commence at three o'clock by the church clock. That will allow us to prepare the witch and enable you to gain suitable refreshment. Why not put any spare change in the collection tins and encourage our executioner to do just that bit extra to give you an even better show.”

Chapter 19 – Riding the Horse

Meanwhile two henchmen were pulling a large piece of apparatus to the front of the platform, while the two others released the witch from her chains. A weakened Bella offered no resistance to her two captors, who had to hold her up by her greasy arms. She moaned in anguish, however, when she saw one of them had the awful hinged collar in his hands. “No. Please, don't put me in that again. It hurts so much.”

Her pleas were, of course, ignored as the henchman lifted her ponytail and placed the thick, iron collar round her sore neck and bolted it fast at the front. The chain that had been attached was missing, but the two angled rods were still there and Bella's arms were twisted until her wrists could be fastened securely in the manacles at their ends. She groaned as previous aches returned to her bent arms and stretched shoulders, and she sobbed at the lewd way her sore tits were once more forced out from her chest. She had not heard the magistrate's announcement so she did not know the nature of her next punishment. She had lost sense of the time and had hoped it was now nearly five o'clock, but when she was turned around she saw the church clock showed it was still not even three. How could she possibly survive another hour and a half of these awful punishments?

Bella was pulled towards the front of the platform and paraded before the excited crowd. She was turned around a few times and bent over, allowing the crowd to see the whip marks on her back and arse as well as those on her tits, legs and cunt. Cries of approval filled the air as she was displayed.

At last Bella was marched towards the new contraption at the front centre of the platform. She recognised it from the smoky cellar at the Grand Hall, but had never seen it in use. However, if it came from there, it could only be used for inflicting pain on innocent, young girls.

“For this punishment, the witch will be seated on the horse, kindly lent to us by the Grand Inquisitor,” proclaimed the magistrate. “She will ride the full length of the horse, and then at half past three the punishment of the witch's breasts will commence.”

When she heard that announcement, Bella at last started protesting, but she could struggle little with her wrists so awkwardly restrained and her cries were met with raucous whistles from the crowd. Although her feet were unfettered, she did not dare kick out, as she would surely lose her balance in an instant.

Bella was pulled close to the side of the horse, and for the first time she noticed the razor sharp metal edge that ran along its length. Worse still, the top was angled quite sharply down towards the front and the edge was serrated with nasty looking sharp teeth, like a huge saw. They couldn't possibly put her on that thing; it would tear her apart!

The witch screamed her protests as the henchmen moved her to the back of the horse and took a sweaty leg each. To great cheers from the crowd they lifted the lightweight girl, and in spite of her slippery skin, they managed to place her on top of the horse, right at the back, leaving about four feet of the sloping horse in front of her. Immediately, they manacled her feet, attaching a short, thick chain between her ankles that was fed under the horse, ensuring she could not throw herself from it, even if she had the strength.

As she was lowered onto the sharp, serrated edge of the horse, Bella felt the hard metal bite deep into her raw sex and arse. She screamed in agony and tried to squirm to extract the sharp edge from her tortured pussy, but no amount of fidgeting made her position any more comfortable. She immediately felt herself being pushed slightly down and forward on the horse by the force of gravity on her own bodyweight, and she leaned back a little to try and counteract that, but the teeth then started to dig even deeper into her sore arse. Soon she gave that up and sat straight, trying to keep still so her crotch was not dragged down the awful serrated edge of the horse.

Bella sat there, not daring to move as the crowd watched transfixed. Blood soon started to drip from her bleeding sex and arse where the sharp metal teeth ate deeper into her crotch and the pain grew steadily worse for the poor, tortured girl. Although she tried to keep still, it was impossible, and she just had to rotate her hips a little to try and ease the pain. Yet every time she made the slightest movement she slipped another inch or two down the horrible, toothed edge of the evil horse.

The crowd cheered Bella's agonising progress down to the front of the horse, almost sucking her towards them with their sadistic lust. They saw the girl's red blood dripping to the platform beneath the horse as her sex and arse were cut to shreds by the sharp, unforgiving teeth. At last Bella found herself at the very front of the horse, just a yard from the edge of the platform and almost within reach of the outstretched arms of the villagers in the front of the crowd. A short wooden post prevented her falling off the front of the horse, but her ravaged sex and arse remained firmly seated on the sharp metal teeth of the hideous saw. She breathed deeply, trying to fight the awful, searing pain in her crotch as the preparations for her next torment continued around her.

The henchmen brought next to the horse a table on which were any number of iron implements, ensuring they placed them within the witch's line of sight. Bella glanced down at them through her tear-filled eyes, but quickly looked away again in horror. Then she saw two henchmen struggling over with a brazier of burning coals, and they placed some of the instruments in the coals, leaving others on the table. With just a few minutes to go until half past three one of the henchmen approached Bella with a strange looking iron instrument in his hand. The magistrate spoke to the crowd. “We are nearly ready to start the breast punishment. In order that the witch cannot hide her pretty face from us, we will fit the heretic's fork.”

The henchman showed the instrument to the crowd and to the witch. It was a double-ended two-prong fork made of keenly forged iron. It was only about six inches long, though its length was adjustable, and its forks looked to be very sharp. The henchman placed the top set of prongs under Bella's chin and pressed upwards until she was forced to look straight ahead. Then he adjusted the length of the fork so he could push the sharp lower prongs into her upper chest, jamming them between her top two ribs just on either side of her sternum. Thin trickles of blood escaped from around each of the four sharp prongs as he bolted the heretic's fork in place on her iron collar. Now Bella had to keep her head up and staring ahead directly at the baying crowd or her chin and chest would be further pierced by the sharp iron prongs.

More blood was now staining the horse around the girl's tortured sex, and the hot sun now beat down remorselessly on Bella's sweaty face, breasts and thighs. The awful serrated iron edge of the horse began to heat up too, adding yet further torture to the poor girl.

The Dispatcher returned to the platform just as the church clock struck the half-hour. The crowd roared in great excitement and expectation of the more intimate torture of the pretty witch's tits; to be played out right in front of them.

The executioner was in no hurry. He examined the witch, checking her manacles, and the heretic's fork, scratching the delicate skin under her chin as he did. He noticed how her iron shackles were also warming in the hot sun, starting to cause minor blistering on the tender skin of her wrists and neck. He quickly examined her whipped back and was pleased to see the bleeding had stopped, although some of the wounds looked quite nasty, especially on her round arse. Some flies were feeding on the dried blood, sweat and tallow. He fingered her squashed and torn sex lips, grinning as he noted the bleeding rawness caused by his whip and the serrated iron teeth. He looked closely at her trembling boobs, beautifully presented by her bondage. How pert and firm they looked in spite of their earlier mauling while she was being fucked. Even the two whip marks on each breast just seemed to highlight their smoothness and softness. And her cute, sore nipples, not very prominent in the hot sun. But he would soon change that.

He moved over to the table and picked up one of two of the instruments on it. They were all very familiar to him, being his own personal property; made specially for him by a renowned master blacksmith. The magistrate had been happy to pay the hire charge rather than try to source his own instruments of torture. Then he examined the brazier and put a leather gauntlet on his right hand. He stirred the coals and checked their heat. He seemed satisfied with the preparations. Bella's eyes had followed him everywhere, darting in their sockets as she shivered in fear and morbid anticipation. The crowd waited silently. Many were sure they could hear the condemned witch's anxious, laboured breathing, punctuated with anguished moans of pain.

Of course the Dispatcher had planned the little witch's torture carefully and he knew exactly what he intended to do to her. Yet still he paused, picking up and replacing a number of torture devices. He knew the girl was looking at every device he touched, wondering what its function was and dreading its use on her tender breasts. The anticipation would just add to her anguish and hopefully result in an even more entertaining response from her when he finally started. This should encourage the crowd to keep filling his collection tins. Besides, the witch was not due to burn until five o'clock and he didn't want to weaken the girl too soon and have the crowd waiting around with nothing to watch.

Slowly he picked up a number of his implements, iron rods, pincers, hooks and needles and showed them individually to the crowd and the terrified girl. He placed each instrument in the hot coals of the brazier, leaving no doubt as to how they would later be used. He grinned at the shivering witch as he saw the terrible fear in her lovely, tear-filled, green eyes. He crowd applauded each time he put a new instrument in the coals.

Next he picked up one of the larger devices from the table. This was an iron breast harness and consisted of two adjustable hoops of iron joined by just a single link of iron chain. He held it up in front of Bella's perky, heaving breasts and showed her and the crowd how it would be fitted. He demonstrated how the wing nuts on the outer curves of the hoops could be turned to reduce the circumference of the iron hoops and squeeze the breasts. He also showed her the tiny, razor sharp spikes on the inside of each hoop. Although they were only half an inch long, they would bite viciously into the breasts, keeping the harness securely in place and greatly increasing the pain level of the poor victim. Also in both hoops were a number of holes, which would pinch the skin of the breasts if the harness was screwed really tightly.

The Dispatcher stood to Bella's left and gently fondled her sweaty, left breast, beautifully presented for him by her bondage. He savoured for the last time the soft, firm tit with its smooth, pale skin. It was indeed a fine example, and his cock throbbed in recognition of that. He would enjoy torturing it, and its partner, over the next hour or so. One of his henchmen stood to Bella's right and they held the breast harness between them in front of the terrified girl.

With the heretic's fork restricting her, poor Bella could only just open her mouth far enough to emit a high-pitched squeaky squeal as she contemplated her next torment. However, nobody present was in any doubt as to her severe anguish as yet more tears flowed down her sweaty, reddening face, and she squirmed around on the awful, serrated edge of the horse.

The Dispatcher turned the wing nut to widen the hoop of iron hovering in front of the witch's left breast. When he was sure it was big enough, he placed it over her firm, out thrust boob, ensuring it was positioned tight against her heaving rib cage. Then he started to turn the screw and watched closely as the hoop of iron gradually reduced in circumference and started to press into the smooth surface of her lovely breast.

Bella was not really able to see the slow entrapment of her beautiful breast, but she keenly felt the iron hoop pressing against her ribs and she soon felt the ends of the sharp spikes touching the surface of her skin in more and more places around her boob. She squealed more as she felt the iron hoop tighten, screwing her face up in agony as the spikes started to indent and finally puncture the outer surface of her skin.

The Dispatcher made constant, tiny adjustments to the positioning of the iron hoop, ensuring it squeezed the breast as uniformly as possible. He looked at the witch's pain-racked face and grinned again beneath his mask as he slowly continued his agonising torture of her breast. At last the breast was securely trapped in its ring of iron and from his close position the executioner could just see a little blood oozing from around the spikes all round the trapped boob. Satisfied for now he left the witch's left side and moved round the horse to take the other hoop from his patient henchman. He repeated the exercise with Bella's pert, right breast, fondling it lovingly for a few minutes before slowly trapping it in the awful spiked hoop of iron.

For Bella the pain in her sensitive tits was horrible, but it was not as agonising as the awful, throbbing agony from her tortured cunt, still being cut and mangled on the evil edge of the horse. Even worse for Bella was the knowledge that her breast torture had only just started, and she knew she would soon feel the hideous touch of the Dispatcher's instruments now turning red hot in the awful, smoking brazier just to her left.

The Dispatcher returned to Bella's left breast and tightened the screw further, gaining yet more squeals of agony from his tortured victim. In all he returned to each breast three times to tighten the awful screws. When he was finished he stepped back in satisfaction to admire his handiwork. The witch's breasts were both swollen around the tight iron hoops, and had turned from their naturally pale colour to an attractive, ruddy blue, caused by a mixture of their bondage and the burning effects of the hot sun. They still glistened with streaks of greasy tallow and the girl's own sweat, and bore the darker weals from her earlier whipping. A little fresher blood was seeping from the spikes on the inside of the hoops. He was disappointed to see the witch's nipples still looked rather small and vowed to treat them shortly.

He gave a curt instruction to two of his henchmen and they approached the horse with buckets and eagerly started to rub some fresh tallow into the witch's swollen tits. They rubbed and rubbed with relish, ensuring her boobs were liberally covered with the foul smelling grease, paying particular attention to her sore, but flaccid nipples. Eventually the Dispatcher was satisfied as the witch's out thrust boobs were dripping with grease and the two henchmen withdrew, ensuring they had a good view of the witch on her horse.

The crowd gasped as the Dispatcher withdrew a long, round rod from the hot coals. The final eight or ten inches glowed bright red in the sunshine and sparks of burning charcoal cascaded from it as he held it high in the air in front of the sobbing witch.

Bella was already praying for death, just as the apprentice had said she would, before the evil, red-hot iron rod hissed and rubbed the smooth underside of her lovely, left breast. In spite of the added pain from the heretic's fork, Bella opened her mouth wide and screamed her agony as she felt the intense heat searing her tender skin. She kept up her piercing scream of torment as the Dispatcher ever so slowly drew the burning hot rod back and forth along the previously unblemished, beautiful skin under her breast. The copious covering of tallow protected the girl's delicate skin for a while, but after three or four slow passes of the glowing iron, her skin became marred by several large, bright red blotches of pain.

Some of the crowd cheered, but many of the women turned their heads away from the hideous torture of the pretty witch's breast. A few even started to leave, unable to stand any more of this horrific spectacle, even if they agreed that the vile witch should be punished and burned. Most had witnessed public branding and burning in the past, but this torturous, sadistic treatment of the helpless, young girl seemed just too hideous an ordeal. Some of the men at the front of the crowd could almost reach out and touch the screaming witch, and they had a fine view of the girl's tortured body. They could smell the acrid stench of burning girl flesh and they grew even more excited as they anticipated yet more torments and the final, agonising execution of the evil, young witch that had brought such horror to their neighbourhood.

The Dispatcher replaced his rod in the coals and took another. This was a little shorter and had a flat end at the last few inches. He held the red hot rod just a few inches in front of the trembling witch's pretty nose and blew on the end, sending burning sparks into her terrified face. He leaned across the horse and touched the flat end of the red hot rod against the inside curve of her trapped, right breast. He just lightly rubbed the rod up and down her sensitive skin right next to the iron hoop of the breast harness. He looked at the girl's agonised, screaming face as he continued to gently stroke her slimy, greasy breast until the skin again blotched to a bright red colour.

Blood was now dripping from the sharp prongs of the heretic's fork sticking in her chin, but Bella didn't notice this minor discomfort. Her poor breasts felt like they were on fire and the agony in her sex was getting worse as she squirmed on the horse and the evil teeth of the serrated edge cut even more into her most tender folds. She would have done anything to stop this horrendous torment.

She had no time to contemplate her situation, however, as the Dispatcher once again twisted the wing nut by her left breast, tightening the iron hoop just a little more, squeezing the throbbing tit and digging the sharp spikes yet further into her breast flesh. Her swollen right boob received the same sadistic treatment before the executioner returned to his brazier and chose his next instrument of torture.

The Dispatcher pulled his next iron from the coals; another long, thin rod with a more pointed end. Again he held it high in front on the girl's tortured face so she and the crowd could see its bright, glowing heat. He slowly touched the very tip of his rod to the top of the witch's left breast, close to where its tight skin was pinched by the iron harness. He held it there for a few seconds as grease and sweat crackled and turned gradually to steam and her pink skin turned a darker red. He waited until the wretched girl's scream died away a little and then slowly drew the red hot point across the top of her breast, gaining the reward of a further heart rending screech of agony.

With the iron rod still red hot, the Dispatcher repeated his torment with another three thin, burning parallel lines across the top curve of the witch's left tit before he replaced the rod in the brazier.

The executioner was finding this hot work himself and he took a refreshing drink of cold water and threw some more over his bare, sweating chest, trying to dampen his growing ardour as well cool his body. He wiped the sweat from his face and returned to the brazier to find the best instrument to use on his victim's right breast.

He picked another lengthy, glowing rod and walked around the front of the horse and stood close to her right side. He looked eagerly at the witch's right breast; the greasy, smooth skin covering the soft, firm flesh just a few inches from his eyes. With his expert eye he could just make out some tiny, white scars in the lovely, freckled skin where the Inquisitor had pricked her lovely boobs with his needle while he had searched for the Devil's mark. He knew her sexy, young body would have been very liberally pricked and felt a tinge of jealousy that it was not he who had been able to perform that delightful task. Still, the witch was now his to enjoy. He took a step away and rubbed the glowing end of his rod against the outside of her breast, just half an inch from the dark aureole. He saw the witch's body jerk as she screamed again, and heard a tinkle as yellow liquid splashed on the platform below the horse. Undeterred, he slowly scorched the girl's breast skin around the outer curve until it too was red raw.

The Dispatcher ordered his henchman to give the witch another drink, of water this time, to help replace the fluids she was quickly losing, while he returned his cooling rod. He now picked up a pair of thin-nosed pliers from his table of instruments and paraded in front of the crowd, opening and closing the jaws to show them their hard, sharp teeth. He pretended to pinch his own nipple with them, just in case there could be any doubt as to what he was about to do. As he screamed in mock pain, poor Bella was being forced to drink a huge amount of water, though she was glad when some spilt from her mouth and splashed in a cooling stream down the burning front of her tortured body.

The executioner gave each wing screw another quick, agonising half turn as he resumed his systematic torture of the witch. Starting with her right breast this time, he carefully placed the jaws of his pliers over the base of her small, cute, pink nipple and very slowly squeezed them shut. He heard her hiss with pain as the sharp, unyielding, iron teeth gripped the greasy, little bud and crushed it remorselessly. He released the tortured nipple momentarily and turned the pliers through forty-five degrees before repeating the punishment, his strong hands able to easily squeeze the pliers fully closed around the tender nub of flesh. Bella let out a guttural moan of agony at this new torture. Her mouth hung open and saliva dripped down her chin to mix with the grease and sweat on her boobs. Two dribbles of white snot covered her upper lip. Again the Dispatcher released his grip, only to turn the pliers again and squeeze down hard. After a few seconds this time he started to twist the evil instrument in his wrist, slowly back and forth as though he was trying to sever the little bud completely from the witch's breast. Finally he pulled the pliers away from her chest, stretching the trapped nipple and the skin of her breast. He retained that torturous position for what seemed an eternity to the suffering girl before finally releasing the pliers and allowing the throbbing, reddened teat to spring back towards the witch's tortured chest.

Bella groaned as her nipple was released; the throbbing pain was agonising. She wondered how it had remained intact after that level of punishment; though she knew her torturer must have intended that to happen. She had no time to worry about that, though, as the Dispatcher had already moved to her left and was hovering his awful pliers over her other nipple.

The condemned witch howled in agony as her second, tender nipple was eagerly tortured by her masked executioner. The water she had drunk seemed to be passing very quickly through her pain-filled body now and she sent another stream of yellow, steaming piss over the edge of the horse to splash onto the platform.

The Dispatcher took no notice as he stood back a little to admire his handiwork. The witch's breasts were now quite swollen around the iron harness and the skin on both was blotched and sore. The nipples were now more prominent, being redder and more swollen as he had planned, but remained unremarkable compared to others he had seen. Still, this witch was quite young and had been a virgin until just a few weeks ago, and she had other charms that made up for it. Nevertheless, he had improved them sufficiently to make later torments more rewarding. Before that, though, he still had more work to do on her breast flesh.

The executioner returned to his brazier, and found the coals still burning well. He looked over to the trembling witch to assess her condition. He had a number of long, thin needles in the brazier and he wanted to use these to pierce the witch through the meat of her breasts using the holes in the iron harness. This usually got a very animated reaction from the victim and helped fill his collection tins. He thought the girl still looked reasonably strong, and she didn't have too long to last now, so he could use one needle in each breast and take it from there. He was concerned, though, that she might lose her balance on the horse so he called over two of his henchmen and they stood right behind her, ready to steady her if need be.

With her bloody chin still impaled on the heretic's fork, poor Bella didn't notice the proximity of the henchmen, but she was able to see the Dispatcher use a pair of tongs to carefully extract a long, thin needle from the brazier. She gasped in terror as he approached her, the eight-inch long needle glowing red hot along its full length.

The crowd stared wide-eyed as the executioner carefully placed the sharp tip of the needle into a hole in the witch's breast harness near the screaming girl's left armpit. A wisp of steam rose from the tip as the Dispatcher adjusted the angle of his needle to aim it at another hole in the iron hoop on the inside of the trembling girl's swollen breast. Finally satisfied, he pushed the needle in hard, piercing the taught skin and driving it through the layers of flesh in her tortured boob. The agonised witch's screams hurt his ears as he continued to push on the needle as it pierced through her yielding breast flesh. As her nostrils filled with the morbid smell of her own burning flesh, her whole body shuddered as she struggled to come to terms with the awful pain now invading her body. Her fisted hands tried desperately to free her bleeding, trapped wrists from their iron bonds, and yet more pungent, golden piss splattered the platform. In spite of the agony in her tortured sex, poor Bella could not keep still and squirmed on the horse, causing fresh cuts to her raw genitals, mixing more blood with the urine on the floor of the platform.

With the burning needle half way through the witch's breast, the Dispatcher paused and took a fresh grip on the needle with his tongs. Sweating with the effort and excitement he resumed his work, shoving the needle further through the breast. Twice more he paused to wipe his brow and to renew his purchase on the thin, hot needle. At no time did the girl stop screaming, though her voice often faltered as her raw throat dried.

At last the Dispatcher felt the tip of the needle strike hard iron as it completed its piercing of the witch's breast. He manoeuvred the needle in the breast until at last he located the hole in the iron hoop he was seeking and he was able to pierce the skin on the inside of her breast. The crowd applauded as they saw the still hot, bloody tip of the needle exit the witch's tortured boob. The Dispatcher released the tongs and grinned at the crowd, before bowing to acknowledge their wild cheering. He replaced the tongs on the table and took a long drink of cold water.

He looked again at the wretched, suffering witch on the horse. She was panting hard, and he could tell that last torture had taken away a lot of her remaining strength. Still, he couldn't leave her with just one tit pierced! He looked at the clock and saw it was now past four o'clock. He would give her five minutes break and then pierce her other lovely breast. He motioned to his henchman to water the girl again.

Five minutes later he slowly walked round the front of the horse with the second long, thin, red-hot needle firmly grasped in his tongs. He looked directly into the teary, green eyes of the witch and drank in her helpless, pleading visage. His eyes moved down to her bloody chin, deeply cut now by the heretic's fork, and then to her breasts – tightly bound, swollen, sweaty and sunburnt, with streaks of blood and raw red patches. He smiled as he moved to her right and decided which of the many holes in her breast harness he would use to enter the meat of her luscious tit. He saw her pale, sweaty skin visible through the holes in the black metal and picked one just on the undercurve of her tit. He gently pricked the very tip of the needle into her skin, allowing her to feel the heat while he angled the needle slightly upwards to aim it at a corresponding hole on the inside of her breast. After a long, terrifying pause, he pushed hard at the needle to send it through her epidermis and into the meat of her breast. He had a better angle on this needle as was able to use his body weight to keep a constant pressure on the needle to drive it very slowly right through the witch's tit without stopping.

As the witch's screams rang in his ears again, he moved the needle around in her breast to locate the exit hole. This meant a few more seconds of agony for the young witch until the bloody point poked through.

The witch's tits were being roasted from the inside. The enormous pain of their red hot piercing only diminished very slowly for the agonised girl, who would have begged to have her lovely boobs severed if it would have relieved her pain. She could not imagine how anyone could do these hideous things to her, no matter how much they hated her.

The Dispatcher returned to his brazier and picked out another hot iron. This one was quite short, wide and flat. He approached the witch's proffered left breast and started rubbing the hot, flat instrument all over the surface of her sweaty breast. Again, the tallow gave some protection, but where her tit was already burnt, the dry skin soon started to blister badly. He then passed the iron directly over her swollen, red nipple, crushing and burning the sore teat as the poor witch wailed in agony. He carried on using the hot iron all over her tit until at last it cooled and could damage her no more. When he had finished, her whole breast was red raw, with large, puss-filled blisters marring the once smooth skin.

He used a similar, flat rod to burn the witch's other breast, and noticed her screaming and wailing growing more faint as exhaustion and shock started to overcome her. When he had finished burning her, he stood back and took a drink to allow the raucous crowd to savour the sight of the girl riding the horse with her breasts swollen, burnt and pierced in their bondage.

As the crowd settled the magistrate came to the front of the platform.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I think you'll agree that our executioner, the Dispatcher, has done a wonderful job this afternoon in punishing this vile witch in accordance with our laws. Please show your appreciation.”

After some generous applause, accompanied by much rattling of the collection tins, the magistrate continued.

“The condemned witch will now be removed from the horse and secured to the stake for burning. Once secured, you will be able to come up on the platform and examine the witch at close quarters for a small fee. The platform will then be cleared and the burning will commence when the church clock strikes five o'clock.”

Two henchmen unfastened her ankle chains and lifted the exhausted witch off the horse. They had to hold her up to prevent her collapsing. They removed the heretic's fork and then her wrist and neck restraints, but poor Bella hardly noticed. They sat her on the platform and then slowly removed the needles impaling her breasts. Bella screamed hoarsely as the needles were extracted through her tortured boobs. Finally they loosened the wing nuts on her iron breast harness and pulled that away, leaving deep, bruised indentations around each breast and numerous tiny wounds from the sharp spikes. The Dispatcher checked that all his instruments were now back in his possession, and he ordered one of his henchmen to put them safety away lest anyone from the crowd fancied a souvenir. The apprentice, meanwhile, supervised the dismantling of the horse and had it packed on his carriage to take to the Inquisitor's next investigation.

Bella sobbed as the blood flow returned to her swollen breasts and heightened her pain even further. She wanted to soothe her burning boobs, but they were too tender for even the most gentle caress. A goblet of water was thrust to her lips and she was made to drink it down. This was quickly followed by another goblet containing a sweet tasting liquid. Bella drank that too. Finally a large bucket of water was poured over the seated girl. This helped wake her up, and also soothed her burns just a little, though it would not help her at all on the stake.

Bella found herself roughly pulled back to her feet. With a henchman holding an arm on each side, she was dragged to the front of the platform and paraded up and down for the crowd to see the results of her punishment. She could hardly walk, such was the pain in her sex, as witnessed by the visible cuts in her groin and the blood smeared over the insides of her thighs. The rest of her body was a mass of whip marks and burns, with only her sunburnt face untouched, though her eyes were sunken and ringed in dark circles and her lips were chapped and split.

Chapter 20 – The Stake

The henchmen marched Bella from the platform to the large, foreboding stake. They helped her up the narrow, temporary steps to the spot where she would be chained. It consisted of just one plank, about four feet long at the front of the stake. It was positioned so that the condemned witch's feet would be about a foot below the top of the wooden pyre. At each end of the plank was a ring bolted through it with a length of chain and an ankle cuff attached.

Bella was positioned with her back to the stake and her ankles were spread widely apart and attached to the cuffs. Fresh blood dripped again from her spread crotch and splashed onto the wood below. Just as the apprentice had said, her pain and suffering were so great that death seemed almost welcome. A henchman then fastened her wrists to iron manacles, which were attached to long chains that ran through rings set way above her head on the back of the stake before feeding back down to the ground below. On a signal the chains were pulled down hard and Bella's wrists were pulled up above and behind her head until she was painfully stretched, displaying her tortured cunt and breasts once more to the crowd.

Bella could see a queue forming near the bottom of the steps, but before she could take that in she found the apprentice standing next to her, swotting some of the flies that were surrounding her, trying to feed on the juices exuding from her helpless body. He reached up and removed the tie holding her hair and let her long, dark tresses flow.

“Well, girlie. This is it. You've done great. We've 'ad a great day 'ere today; made loads o' money. I knew you'd be a good 'un. The fire will cleanse you now and drive that ol' Devil from your witch's body for good an' proper. You give us one last good set o' screams, eh girlie.”

He took a small bottle from his pocket and poured some more of the strange, silver powder over her head and turned away. In his place were two others, an older, portly, well-dressed man and a young boy, also very smart. The man seemed to spend a long time looking at her displayed body, but the boy tried to avert his eyes. The man mumbled something very earnestly in the boy's ear and then pushed him away again back down the steps.

Bella looked over to the church clock and wished the minute hand around to five o'clock. She felt pain all over her body. Her breasts were still throbbing and burning inside and her sex hurt like mad; she could still feel blood dripping down the insides of her spread thighs. Her shoulders ached like hell and her torn back and buttocks were being irritated by the rough wood of the stake. A fresh tear seeped from the duct in the corner of her left eye and left a watery trail down her sunburnt cheek. She guessed the sunshine had brought out the freckles on her face; the pox as some of her friends had told her. Now all those teasing friends were either dead – burnt at the stake like her – or were in the crowd enjoying her awful punishment and execution. Yes, this was surely the right time to leave this life behind.

The little witch didn't really notice the stream of people who came to see her at close hand chained to the stake. She didn't hear the abuse or feel the spit that landed on her face or chest. When the local priest spoke quietly to her, she turned her head towards him and kissed the offered cross absent-mindedly. She smiled as the tears kept streaming down her face and another drop of blood fell from her sex onto the plank below.

The henchmen cleared away the steps and waited for the Dispatcher's signal. All held burning torches in their hands and were evenly spaced around the base of the stake, some ten feet below where the witch was chained. Between them and the condemned girl was a large pile of dry brushwood with some larger branches cut from the local forests. These branches were carefully positioned to give a proper, solid form to the fire and ensure the flames rose strongly up the stake to properly consume the condemned witch. The Dispatcher stood at the front of the stake, nearest the crowd, who all gathered round now to witness the final execution of the vile, young witch, who had brought such terror to their peaceful lives.

The magistrate stood ready to issue the official instruction, keeping his eyes firmly on the minute hand of the church clock. He held his breath as the hand moved to the vertical and he awaited the first chime. Bella watched it too.

At last the bell rang out and the magistrate shouted, “Burn the witch!” to the Dispatcher who showily lit the brushwood with his blazing torch. At that sign, the four henchmen also started lighting the wood, and soon all five were setting fires going all round the large pile of brushwood. The four henchmen finally threw their torches into the flames, while the Dispatcher kept his torch just in case the fire should unexpectedly extinguish. You should never underestimate the power of these evil witches!

Some of the crowd took up the chant of “Burn the witch! Burn the witch!” while others fell quiet at the end of a long, hot and gruelling afternoon. All eyes rested on the young witch, now looking even smaller and more vulnerable chained to the stake; all alone and naked, with her sex and breasts exposed and showing the awful evidence of her recent, severe punishments.

Bella stared fixedly ahead at the church clock as the big hand moved slowly past the vertical. She coughed as smoke appeared before her eyes, clouding the bright sunlight, but supplementing its heat, and filling her lungs with dirty air. She started to feel the heat building up beneath her feet as the minute hand passed one o'clock. She started to shiver uncontrollably in spite of the heat from the fire. As the minute hand passed the next hour mark and the heat grew stronger, she just had to look down at the flames licking just a few inches below her. She screamed.

Through the flames, she could just see the henchmen busy loading more wood on the fire to make sure it remained well lit. The first real burning pain hit Bella as the flames started to lick around her ankles and calves. Now she could not keep her eyes off the darting orange and yellow tongues of fire that seemed to get closer to her by the second. A drop of sweat fell from her nose and disappeared into the flames before it could hit the wooden plank on which she stood. In spite of her condition, the girl pulled hard on her chains, struggling helplessly to free herself and escape the pain of the fire. But with her arms stretched so tight, and her legs so widely spread, she could gain no leverage to loosen her chains even an inch. She screamed in frustration, pain and fear as her lower legs started to blister and the chains on her ankles heated and burnt her sore skin.

The crowd saw the change in the witch and knew the end was coming. Most had by now witnessed many such witch burnings and had seen this sort of reaction before. No matter how badly hurt they were, or how much they wanted to die, they all screamed and struggled when the flames started licking round their ankles.

Bella's breathing was rasping as the smoke thickened, and she could hardly get the breath to scream. Her whole body was bathed in fresh sweat and her lower legs were gradually turning black as her inner thighs started to blister. Flames were licking round her sex and arse and she started wriggling about as much as her chains would allow, trying to avoid the searing, hot fire.

She began to feel the heat on her belly and the sore undersides of her breasts, and soon flames were licking periodically in front of her face. Behind her too, the flames were rising, already having scorched her hamstrings and tickled around her buttocks, they were now warming her lacerated back. As the heat increased further she felt a river of hot liquid running down the backs of her legs as her skin burnt away and the fat in her bum cheeks started to melt. Suddenly she heard a loud crackling of strange popping noises right by her ears and she sniffed a horrible and burning stench of singeing hair. She remembered the powder that the apprentice had sprinkled into her hair, and she screamed anew and shook her head wildly as masses of fiery, burning tresses fell into the flames below her. Her scalp and the back of her neck stung like a million bee-stings.

Her stomach was blistering now and she had lost all feeling in her blackened legs. Her sex was burning, though the pain hardly seemed to be getting worse there. Her shrivelled bum cheeks were turning black. Through the smoke and flames, Bella watched the crowd below her. The fire was becoming really fierce around her body now, and Bella saw and felt her tortured breasts begin to melt. She screamed in agony as the fatty tissue sizzled and burnt in front of her eyes, and her once beautiful, firm, perky boobs slowly turned into small, blackened lumps on her heaving rib cage before falling silently into the raging fire.

Bella, the condemned witch, blinked the tears from her eyes and peered through the thick, acrid smoke for the last time at the villagers watching her dying so horribly. She breathed in her last lungful of black, smoky air, her eyes rolled and for the first time she cursed them for what they had done to her.