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From the Witchfinder's Files, Tale II: The Innocent Malice

She screwed her face up grimacing hard as the pain ran up and down her body as it was pulled straight and tight.
 
"It is so easy", he whispered, the strain audible in his voice as he now had to lean hard on the lever to stretch her even further, "why do you have to make this hard on you? Why, stupid girl, why?"

The chains rattled, and the pale body on the rack was now one straight line, while merciless forces were trying to rip apart her spine.
 
She screamed she felt the pain becoming too much for her to bear and her eyes were getting heavy, trying as best she could it was becoming increasingly hard to keep them open. Her body shaking and trembling she tried to fight off unconsciousness but failed and her head lolled onto one of her stretched arms as she lay there limp.
 
The screaming stopped, and for a second, the Witchfinder just stared at the naked, limp body in front of him. Damn!

He freed her from the restraints, which had scraped her wrists and ankles bloody, and carried the body over to the chair of spikes, where he strapped her in and went to get some cold water. Even though she was seriously injured and unconscious, she still looked so pretty. Why was she so determined to destroy that wonderful body in a fire?
 
The cold water made her open her eyes and then she felt the restraints and squirmed, the pain suddenly hit her from the spikes and she arched forward as she tried to escape but the restraints held her tight to the chair and the spikes pricked at her skin.
 
All over the terrifying chair, small metal points pricked her skin, covering her tortured body in small red streams. There was so much fight left over in that lovely young woman...

He stepped behind her and cupped her breasts, feeling the warm, fresh blood under his fingers as he gently squeezed them.

Then, he leaned over and whispered into her left ear: "You choose pain and death over peace and life. You stupid little thing. Come, save yourself, and make me happy."

He did mean that last one. What a waste to burn this beautiful, feisty girl. But if she did not take his offer, he would have to. It was mad - he had to torture her into doing what was best for her. He had to make her suffer out of love, to save her life.

With a frustrated sigh, he retrieved a pan of hot coals and placed it under the chair's seat. It was thick metal, and would take a lot of time to heat up. Enough time, maybe, for her to reconsider her mistake.
 
She tried to arch away from the chair but the straps around her held her and she felt it all over her back, her ass the back of her legs her arms. She felt the pricks and felt the blood even breathing caused her to move and every even tiny movement caused the points to move against her even more.

Her head fell from one side to the other and when she felt his hands she jerked at his touch and felt the spikes push that little bit deeper into her.

"Please..." she spoke softly almost unconsciously. "Please stop..." Her whole body was shaking and she could feel the blood dripping out of her so very very slowly.
 
He stood behind the heavy chair, his fingers feeling the tiny droplets of blood that ran down her back. She felt warm and trembled softly under his touch. Moving farther down, he could feel that the spikes she was sitting on were slowly getting warmer. Not hot yet, but soon, the burning would begin.

He leaned in and whispered softly into her ear: "Before you, hundreds of girls have said everything I want here. They screamed it, sometimes. Sometimes, they could only nod because that's all you can do without a tongue..." he smiled, "so you will say the words that will save you eventually. You will give in, and you will live. But you will feel as much pain as I need to use on you. You will agree, my dear."
 
She closed her eyes and she felt the tears slowly move down her face, "Please, please stop, get me out of this chair." she was shaking more and more now and she felt as well as the sharp pricks from each of the spikes felt them warming up and she tried to stop shaking as much as she could. "PLEASE!" she suddenly screamed.
 
"Did it have to come to this, you dumb girl?", he snarled, "do you have to roast before you take my generous offer?"

Either it was just his imagination, or he could already smell a hint of burning skin, a reminder of what was about to come if she did not give in soon. The chair had to be unbearably hot by now, and she squirmed and fought, every movement causing additional wounds when she pressed against the spikes on the wrist and ankle straps. She would give in soon enough...
 
She fought and fought and eventually her body betrayed her and she had no strength or energy left to kick out at the straps and she slumped back in the chair barely able to even keep her eyes open.

"Please....I...will...do...as...you....ask"

She spoke slowly and with a great deal of effort as she felt the burning she only just had enough energy left to let out a loud scream.
 
He could barely hide his grin as he undid the creaking, rusty metal straps and lifted her from the chair. Her whole body, especially, her back was wet from sweat, with blood mixed into it. She felt light and warm as he lifted her off the chair, and he could feel her heavy breath against his body as she lay across his arms barely conscious.

First, he had to cool her down. Quickly, without too much care, he plopped her down on the rack on her stomach and went to fetch some water to clean and treat her back; wherever there were no small droplets of blood, he could see that her skin was bright red, and she needed some water on that immediately...
 
The scream took the last of her energy and she closed her eyes her body shaking a little. When she opened them she felt something different. She was laid down on something and still shaking she laid there.

She heard movement from behind her and so not to attract any attention she closed her eyes again and stayed as still as she dared. Only when she felt the water and the sting from it she did she move as she cried out a little as the stinging from her back cursed through her body.
 
The water slowly washed away the blood from her shuddering body, revealing a regular pattern of small red dots where the spikes had dug into her. She was still very red on her back, and much scrawnier than when she had been arrested, but her backside presented an alluring sight, and so he could not resist climbing onto the low table behind her and placing his head on her shoulders, his hands feeling her breasts from the side.

His anger at her obstinacy was now fully replaced by the strange affection that had made him force her into this deal in the first place. She was so young, so pretty and so helpless... forcing her to become his assistant was really the only way to save her, and she deserved his help.

"Excellent, my girl. I knew you were smart enough to save yourself. I am very proud of you.", he said sincerely with a warm tone of voice and kissed her between the shoulderblades.
 
She grimaced at the stinging pain, but it was brief as she felt the water drip down from her boddy. Still she laid there. She felt him climbing onto the table and, she felt his hands touching her skin and she wanted to scream in revulsion. Laying on her front her breasts were pressed against the table but even feeling his fingers on the side of her made her sick.

She closed her eyes tightly as he spoke and I took all she could to stop herself from shaking as she felt his lips as he kissed her back and she just laid there silently waiting and praying for him to leave her.
 
He got up and applied some ointment to the wounds on her back, leaving a pink smear where it mixed with the rest of the blood. She was much too exhausted to speak now, and he would let her rest. Not unsecured, though. He was not an idiot, and he was sure he could not trust her completely yet.

He quickly tied her wrists together behind her back with rope, did the same to her ankles and gave her the rest of the water in a cup so that she could have something to drink.

"Rest a bit now. I will show you the duties of your new position later, but you need to rest..."
 
She was actually surprised when she felt the coolness of whatever it was he was rubbing on her back. The stinging and pain was gone almost instantly and she relaxed. She relaxed until he grabbed at her wrists and twisting and pulled them behind her back, fresh tears escaped as she felt him tie first her wrists and then her ankles.

She felt him get up and leave her but as he spoke she shuddered and closed her eyes laying there all tied up on the table.
 
He came back some time later to find her resting, or perhaps sleeping, on the table in a naked heap, still in that quite uncomfortable position with her hands behind her back. She did not care, though. She needed rest, and he could understand. Now that she was not a suspect anymore, he could be gentler with her, and it felt like a relief...

He was carrying a coarse black robe in roughly her size (actually just one of his, cut down a bit), sat on the rack next to the young woman and, after gently touching her to wake her up, said: "You're dead, Jayne. Tragically died under torture... at least that's what the world knows. Of course, we two know a slightly different story, don't we?". He winked and put the robe down next to her, then untied her hand (while still leaving the ropes on her ankles), "put this on, and enjoy the new life you just earned yourself... smart girl.", he added, patting her sides.
 
She heard the voice and then she tried to open her eyes. As soon as she tried to move her arms it all came back to her and she groaned, her arms numb from being in such an unnatural position all night. Then she felt the resistence on her wrists loosen and then suddenly she could move them. She pulled them in front of her reaching down rubbing her wrists to get the feeling back into them and she felt him put something on the table behind her.

As he spoke she turned and look at what was there, something folded on the table, and still pulling at her tied ankles she reached out and took the black material and holding it up unfolding it she saw the gown and looked at him and sat up as she pulled it behind her putting her arms through it and putting it on.
 
The witchfinder sat next to his new helper and put his arm around her shoulders, now clad in rough black fabric. Pulling her closer, he continued talking.

"You probably remember the three witches you pointed out to us during your interrogation... I thank you for your help, since we have already arrested them, and they are now in the cells here. Tomorrow, I will put them on trial and if they do not admit their crimes, then we will get them to confess, and I will show you what to do. Until then, return to your cell and have a good night of rest. Later, I will bring you some food. Of course, no one else is allowed to know about you. Talk to anyone but me, or make any noise, and I will have to kill you. Do you understand?"

To emphasize these last words, he had pulled her even closer, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with her, now sweaty and matted, hair.
 
She shook, covered in the clothing and simply nodded as he asked if she understood. Finally her ankles untied she shuffled over to the cell and walked in crawling and sitting in the corner her knees up her head on them she closed her eyes as she heard the bars slamming shut and heard the footsteps walking away.
 
As promised, the Witchfinder later returned with a bowl of soup - the first food she had received in days - and a piece of bread. She was still quite numb from the horrors she had been forced to live through - that much was obvious from her just sitting in the corner of her cell, exhausted and subdued.

A few hours later, he returned and bent down to wake her from her sleep (much more gently than when she had been his prisoner).

"Come, get up! Your first task as my new helper awaits you! The witches should be ready for us!"
 
She cowered in the corner as he came in and then shesaw the soup and bread in his hand. A little relaxed she took them and ate every last drop of soup and last crumb of bread. Putting the empty bowl back down, and still very weak her eyes closed again.

They snapped open at the sound of his voice and she gasped as he was standing over her. She looked up cowering. "I...I dont know if I am strong enough" she said looking up at him.
 
"Of course you are, my girl! You were stubborn enough under torture, that's for sure. Now come!"

She did look weak, he had to admit. The robe which was so large it practically hung on her only increased that impression. She seemed frail and tired, and her injuries were far from healed. She had just eaten for the first time in days, after all.

It would have come as a surprise to most of his victims, but he was not a merciless man. The girl in front of him was so pale and so weak that she almost made him feel sorry for what he had been forced to do to her.
 
Slowly she pulled herself to her feet and stood looking at him 'where are we going?' she asked leaning against the stone wall of the cell that she had been calling home for she could not remember how long.
 
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