From the Witchfinder's Files, Tale I: Snake in Chains

Leading that goat in always guaranteed some laughs from the crowd - they normally used that thing to punish compulsive liars, and it was a favourite with the people - but he knew that at least the condemned would soon understand that it was no laughing matter.

He gave her time to cry and build up fear as he paraded the goat around the platform, to cheers and laughter.

Phyliss hear the people laugh while she cried. These christians were all sadistic, heartless scum - not only their priests. She cursed them in her mind, as there was nothing else she could do.

He led the goat in position and sat down on a low stool, adding to the amusement of the crowd by deliberately lounging around in an extremely relaxed way, a stark contrast to the stern appearance he normally gave himself in public. It was all part of a well-rehearsed act, and it earned approving laughter from the crowd.

Then they fell silent as the goat started licking the prisoner's feet.

The smell of the goat gave Phyliss a hint of what would be coming even before the tongue touched hear. It was impossible to keep back the laughter that soon turned into shrieks. She pulled at her bondage, trying to break free. Even if she knew she couldn't, she just had to try.

From the way it shook her body, this involuntary laughter was much worse than all the pains she had had to endure. She could not help it, and the look of fear in her eyes made it clear that she knew: Before long, she would be in agony, but still forced to laugh instead of scream, robbed of any way of showing how much it hurt, forced to pretend it was funny instead.

There was nothing funny about it, and he knew it. The goat continued innocently licking her feet, spurred on by the witchfinder constantly keeping them salty. The animal was clearly enjoying this, unwittingly playing the role of a gruesome torturer in the process.

Pulling and hurling herself around, Phyliss hardly noticed that the blindfold came off until the sunlight hit her like a flash, and she closed her eyes immediately. Thi light did hurt her and she was to consumed by the torture to even think of using her power.

For a second, he was cold with shock. He had looked into her eyes! The demon could have paralyzed him any moment, and it was only luck and the "slight" distraction of being cruelly tortured that had kept her from using her hellish powers on him.

He caught himself again, looked around and immediately spotted a solution to keep this from happening again: Chained to the post in the middle of the platform was a mask of a hideous monster with huge ears and a waggling tongue. Normally used to humiliate unruly women, it would be just the thing to keep her from looking directly at people (in place of the eyes, it had rather artistic cast-iron depictions of wild, bulging monster eyes). Also, it would add some comedy to the proceedings...

He unhooked the mask from its chain and slipped it over the head of his laughing victim, carefully avoiding her gaze. He might not be so lucky this time...

Phyliss hardly noticed what happened in her hysterical laughter, but she realized he put a heavy mask over her face. Normally such a humilation would be worse to her then any torture. She was even in a huff if her makeup wasn't perfect. But she could only think about the goat now.

The heavy metal cage enclosing her head amplified her laughter - or her terrified shrieks; it was hard to tell the difference by now - and gave it a strange, resounding tone.

The goat kept licking eagerly, and had already managed to lick some areas slightly bloody. Of course, this extra salt only spurred it on.

Phyliss wanted to beg him for mercy, but her hysterical shrieks left no room for this. She expected to die soon, and in this moment she almost wished that it would come fast, ending all the pain and fear.

Laughter had become terrifying shrieks, but even this had become quieter with time. She was getting tired and overwhelmed by the pain, and he could tell. He would have to preserve her if she was to last a full week, so, after giving the goat one last chance to lick her blood-red feet, he patted it on the head and led it away.

Phyliss collapses, panting and sobbing under the mask. It was worse then the blindfold, but she was to weak to beg or complain about it.

He had expected her to hold out longer under this relatively mild torture, but apparently she was too exhausted from this long, long week.

Remembering his promise not to let her die (and aware that she would be more fun when she had her full strength to scream and thrash around), he sat beside her and inspected her mangled body, trying to gauge how much rest she would need.

Phyliss lied moveless, her sobbing had turned into a soft weeping. The mask felt hot and tight, like suffocating her. There were the straps, too, and they felt like iron after she had fought and struggled under the goats attack. Not to mention the pain from the beating with the stick and that hunger, although she had lost all appetite.

He rested one hand on her belly, which was heaving as she struggled to breathe under that mask. This, and the sobbing, showed that she was too injured to continue. She was not to be tortured to death.

"I will take off that mask. You will not use your powers on anyone, because you will remain strapped to that board. If you do even attempt to turn anyone to stone or do anything else with your magic, there will be no one to free you. You will starve to death right here, while all the people watch. Do you understand?"

"Yessss..." she whispered, still tears in her voice. She wanted to get that mask off, and she didn't doubt he would starve her to death if she even made an attempt of defending herself. So she tried to keep calm as possible, hoping he would keep his word.

With some trepidation, he undid the straps on the mask and pulled it off, averting his eyes just in case. She now lay there, naked and strapped to the wooden bench, with the leather pressing her down at the wrists, ankles, thighs, and stomach.

She needed some rest so she would have the power to entertain everyone with her suffering. She was no good half-dead, and he knew it, so he controlled the tightness of the straps, and let her rest until the next day.

Shortly before he went, and after having made sure no one was looking, he snuck in a quick kiss on her stomach. She really did have a strange allure, this brave woman.

Phyliss breathed out, as the mask was off, but she did not dare to open her eyes or even move them. She felt the kiss on her stomach, and it was strange, puzzling her. She waited, and obviously everyone left, and she feel asleep from being so exhausted. She could even sleep in that bondage for a while, until she woke up. Everything was silent, an she listened carefully no one was round for sure. Very slowly she opened her eyes. It was night, but she could see sometihnig for a very long time. She could see the stars above her, and as she turned her head, she saw the straps and the place around. Good she didn't open her eyes in daylight, they would need some time to adjust again. And shhe was sure to keep her eyes closed if anyone would be around. She looked down and found she had lost weight, although she had been slim, beside being very curvy, before. Would she really survive?

He was back very early the next morning, carrying a funnel and several barrels - the tools needed for today's show. He set them down in a corner of the scaffold, then walked over to the bench where his victim lay half-slumbering, held down by the straps.

The many men and women who had screamed out their confessions in his dungeon would have been surprised to hear it - had they not been mostly burned to ashes - but he was not entirely hard-hearted. He enjoyed his work, and firmly believed that, by giving them earthly pain, he was saving their souls from eternal torment. Well, he had to admit that the earthly pain was part of the fun, but he was starting to feel sorry for his captive. Or maybe fall in love. He did not know. Once or twice before, he had done this already - girls who had impressed him with their strength and willpower had "died under torture", only to be actually recruited, to assist him with his torture, but mostly just because he loved them and they kept him company.

But - a demon? If she had been human, he would have had no problem repeating his trick. He could not, with a clear conscience, enlist the help of a demon, no matter how pitiable she was. On the other hand, it was getting harder and harder on his conscience to nearly kill her under incredible pain every day for a whole week.

He made his decision. He knelt down beside the body - thin and frail from the hunger and tortures, and shining light blue in the cold light of the early morning - and whispered: "Wake up, demon. I have an offer to make."

Phyliss slowly came to mind, as she heard him whispering. He still insisted that she was a demon, but she knew better to argue with him. And she was to weak to argue. An offer by him was surely a trick, so she had to be aware. Mabye it was a trap to make her admit something, on the other hand, turning the offer down might give him reason to treat her even worse, killing her.
"An offer?" she whispered, hardly audible.

"It is...an offer which can save you two days of more pain. And believe me, I had something planned for the last day which would have been spectacular; you would have barely gotten out of there alive. Not to mention, I can save you the shame of being whipped out of time through the streets, naked. Even better, you will have something like a...respectable job, so to speak.
If you agree, I will arrange for you to "die" on here. And then, I will take your body away for "burial". No one but us two has to know that it will not be your body which ends up in an unmarked grave, but the body of an unfortunate apprentice who died on my rack this morning. You will live on - as my helper. I will take good care of you, and there will be no more torture for you. What do you say?"

Phyliss thought a moment about it. She did not trust him, and she would not really like to work for him. But turning the offer down would surely mean her own destruction, and a painful one. He would not let her live. And she wasn't in the position to turn down anything. She was amost starved, tied up and surrounded by a murderous mob of mindless, sadistic scum.
"I do anything you say to get her out alive." she whispered.

"Good!", he grinned, "Now, we have to give these ruffians a bit of a show so they believe us. Today's entertainment involves this funnel and large amounts of water and...other liquids, from which you have just saved yourself - and good thing too! One of the barrels comes straight from the latrines... but do not worry, I will put the funnel in and pour the water in. I want you to flop and struggle as dramatically as you can to convince everyone that you are suffering. Then, when you can not take anymore, suddenly go limp. I will pronounce you "dead", and you will be saved. How does that sound?"

"Ill do as you say." whispered Phyliss. She knew she was a good actress and very capable of dramatic scenes, so she should be able to cope with that.

He waited for the sun to climb higher and warm up her freezing body a little - and, more importantly, for the crowd to gather. When a few dozen onlookers, early risers who wanted some quick fun on the way to their daily errands, had gathered, he lifted the funnel with a grand gesture, then lowered it towards his captive.

"Ready?", he whispered, "open up..."