A Witch Hunt

[Rockingham]

Michael

Their kiss could not be broken. It haunted him with touch and tingles each time he mouth drew taste from his own. He did not dare stop, his tongue playing along her lips, tasting and suckling each one. He kiseed her, hard and full and clean.

Her touch electrified. Michael felt the fingers running along his skin. She pleasured him, like no other. She wanted to see his cock grow, to have it hard and firm in his hands. She did it on pupose, wanting nothing else. It felt like nothing else, the dawn of a new pleasure overtaking him.

He wanted her to feel it too.

He touched her, bare breasts out to him, touching and caressing each one. The nipples hard and firm, they felt so good under his fingertips. Each one had a chance to dance aorund her skin, light and good.

And further down. His hand cupped her sex. He could feel her flowing free now, juice dripping down to his fingers. Not forced, not because her body needed it, but because her mind wanted it. This was a woman soft and determined, needing release and finding pleasure.

"You can come for me," He whispered in her ear. Not a command, not an order, nothing more than a soft suggestion. If she wished, she could orgasm over his fingers, she could let herself go. He would be right here to catch her.

One finger slipped inside of her. Her entire body gripped him, her sex holding down. He could feel heat radiating from her entire cunt. Everything felt different, more powerful, more meaningful.

 

[LitShark]

Reverend Smythe

As the carriage began moving Smythe sat opposite Rebecca. Behind the closed door his calm, reassuring countenance melted away. In it’s place was a mask of contempt and hatred.

“I’ll bet you’re really proud of yourself you filthy Satan sucking bitch!” Smythe snarled at the frightened girl who was struggling to maintain her composure. “Taking the life of an innocent child for your Dark lover. A babe, snatched from this Earth before his baptism is surely burning in hell, and you are the cause.”

As the carriage approached the mansion Smythe imagined he could smell the roasted meats sitting on the table inside. He wanted to soften this bitch up on the ride up so that he could keep her placid whilst he filled his belly.

“Is there no remorse in you? Have you no shame, you Lucifer loving slut?” Smythe was getting worked up, much the way he did with his sermons, drops of spittle were flying at Rebecca’s sweet, horrified face. “To damn a child to the unrelenting flames of Hell, that is the most unforgivable offense a witch like you could commit in my book. You must now face Holy retribution, and it will not be lightly dealt!”

The carriage slowed to a halt before the mansion, Smythe continued to rail at and berate the poor girl. All the while imagining what her subtle curves would look like once stripped of her heavy frock.

“We have arrived strumpet! You’d better start thinking of how to word your confession now, it will be so much harder to compose when your body is writhing in agony of Divine Vengeance.”

Smythe’s form of vengeance was indeed divine… for him at least.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Susanna

Her words had an effect on him; she could see it in his beautiful and frightening face, she could feel it burning through her but she did not understand it.

"I would never lie to you. I do not know who told you that. Why would I want to lie to you? The truth, they say, is much more painful than a lie could ever do."

His word nearly made her flinch, as she knew them to be true. The truth is far more powerful to then a lie simply because there could be no defense against it. No matter the source, whether it fell from the lips of Darkness or eased into your heart through the Light, the Truth remained absolute, indefensible. There was no protection from the truth; it could only be countered by self-awareness and the ability to see the truth about yourself.

"I suppose I could threaten you and lie, make you feel weak and misunderstood. Twist and play with your words and phrases until even you are not sure anymore, but what would the point be? I don't want that over us, I do not want this to be some game of my faith versus your own."

She watched as his gaze shifted to the beautiful widow at his left. Temperance… He held Temperance’s hand and she did not resist. She had always appeared so strong, so independent, now she seemed dazed, almost lost. Again, Susanna tried to meet her gaze, to catch her eye, but…

The Stranger’s voice cut through her attempts to contact Widow Thorpe.

"You may call me whatever you wish... but if you truly need a name, call me Richard."

He returned his attention to Susanna. Richard, Richard Thorpe was the name of her husband. He was playing a game with the unhappy widow, using her love and her grief against her. It was the only thing that made sense. The cruelty of using a young widow’s loneliness against her was something he could do with ease.

"Would you like a promise? I could promise for you, promise to tell you the truth. I would even promise on that book of yours."

He reached for the bible in the pocket of her gown; she felt the flesh of the serpent snake across her and tried to suppress a shudder of revulsion as it touched her skin. He leaned closer to her and like a trapped animal, she briefly considered pushing but to do that she wild have to raise her hands and touch him. She could not do it; she could not willingly put her hands on him. She would not.

"Here," The bible on the table. He rested his hand upon it, "I swear all of the questions you ask I will answer in the truth. Not twists lies or partial truths, no myths or speculations. It will be the complete truth, nothing more."

She heard him sigh with his words and watched in horror as smoke wafted from the bible beneath his hand. It seemed to burn his skin without heat, moving along his flesh with the sounds of flames softly surrounding him but without pain. He felt no pain, but he did feel something, she could see it on his face and in the way, his body tensed before relaxing again. Once again, he was firmly in control.

"Does that satisfy you, Susanna?"

“Satisfy me?” She repeated his question while she searched for the truth. “No. It does not. It terrifies me because I can think of no reason for it.” She takes back her bible and holds it on her lap; her fingers trace the cover but can find no evidence of heat.

“You are dangerous, armed with a sharper wit and more experience than I can imagine. I could ask why you are here, but the answer is clear. You are here because not only does the town allow it; it assists you. It feeds you its innocent women, like Lillianne and Temperance, and the others, who I fear we will never see again. They do this to cover their own guilt, their own lack of faith. The town has made you welcome and it will make you strong. I could ask what you want, but I can see you take what you want; there is no need for me to ask. I could ask when you’ll leave, but unless something stops you, I know you will remain until you have taken everything you want and there is nothing left worth having.”

Her fair brows draw together and she swallows nervously, “I could ask you why you want me here but that is the one question I am too afraid to ask.”

 

[Rockingham]

"Oh... oh," He nodded at her words, as she spoke. He seemed to understand what she was doing, or trying to do at this point. He helped himself to a slice of meat, savoring it upon his lips.

"I see. You already know everything that is going on. You know all about me, and this place, and what happens here. The horror stories and rumors you've heard must be absolutely true, and I am some big bad old boogeyman who just wants to take advantage of pretty little girls... just like you."

He shook his head, disappointed in her. That is all she thought of him, all she could think. He wanted her to know what he was trying to do here, what he wanted her to be a part of.

"What if I told you everyone chooses to be here? What if I told you that I always give people a choice. Even Temperance here, I gave her a choice. She is here because she wants to be, and can leaven when she may."

His hand went to hers now. It touched, caressing the soft pale skin on her. A groan escaped him, slight and almost inaudible except for the softest of sounds. When his hand clasped into hers, nothing else mattered.

"That choice is yours as well. I only wanted to meet you, Susanna. To show you what I have created, and to offer you a place by my side. You are the one, above all others. It is you, that I want."

 

[brigid_fitch]

Temperance

"You are the one, above all others. It is you, that I want"

Temperance looked at the Stranger/Richard upon hearing those words, a contented sigh on her lips until she saw that he was looking at Susanna and not her. Jealousy flared for the briefest of moments and she pulled her hand away from Richard's comforting grip, the touch that had been keeping her grounded and focused since the Stranger had raped her mind with his horrific images. But once she was free from his grasp, a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame her. The scents from the array of food that she had not noticed until this moment hit her like a physical blow. She looked around the dining hall, as though for the first time. She recognized Susanna instantly, and paid her a wan smile as she fought off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her. But Susanna wasn't looking at her, she was looking at someone to her left, a man who was seated right next to herself. Susanna's face was a mixture of anger and revulsion and Temperance absent-mindedly wondered who this man was who could have upset the girl so. Shaking her head to try to clear it, Temperance looked over at the man next to her, who was regarding her with amusement. He winked at her and smiled.

And Temperance screamed.

 

[save_marla]

As soon as the carriage door closed, it seemed, the Reverend began his verbal assault, and Rebecca’s mouth fell open in shock at the violence of his words. Her temper, so often associated with her flaming red hair, flared at his ugly accusations - but she could hardly get a word in to protest...and when he was quiet, she hardly knew where to begin. Facing him, she could feel the blood draining from her face in her silent indignance, and at length she decided there could be no sensible arguing with this man, and turned her face to the wall, fuming inside.

She assured herself that they could not all be as obstinate as this foul, spiteful Reverend - there must be someone with some sense at the head of this investigation. She bristled when he called her “witch” again - it was a word thrown about carelessly by grass-green physicians who had not the skill to bring babies into the world, and it was an ominous title in these dark and confused times.

The carriage slowed, then stopped abruptly, and she rose from her seat , brushing past him in her skirts as he continued to chastise her, jumping down out of the carriage without his assistance. The sound of his voice was making her feel distinctly ill, and she wheeled around on him to voice one last sharp rebuttal, drawing herself up to her full, slim height until she was nearly nose-to-nose with him.

Her voice was deliberately steady, though it took all her will to keep it in check. “You’ll mind your tongue in my company, Reverend, or risk looking like the ass you are, when this is through. I remind you again that your charges are fully unfounded, and that you’ve no more proof of my triflings with your friend, the Devil, than you’ve an honest day’s wages in your pocket.”

Without a look back, she strode ahead of him up the path to the front door of the mansion, and waited for him there, muttering to herself about the irony of his threat of “Divine Vengeance”. Rebecca was reaching the limit of her patience, after the day and evening that had just passed. She hoped this matter would be quickly resolved so that she might return to her sister’s home in peace.

 

[LitShark]

Reverend Smythe

When Rebecca marched away from him, her indignation nearly leaving vapor trails around her as she stormed up to the door of her immanent undoing, Reverend Smythe couldn’t contain a wicked and excited smile. If a few harsh words could stir her to such heat and fury he couldn’t wait to see what a good hard fuck would stir up in this lovely young midwife.

The smile quickly faded as the Reverend’s green eyes began to glow with a dangerous rage. His furious eyes caught the reflection of the moon momentarily before a long, dark cloud slid over to obscure the mansion in unrelenting darkness.

One swift motion brought Reverend Smythe’s hand up to the back of Rebecca’s head, snatching a fistful of her flame colored tresses. He yanked her violently backward, away from the door before his other hand clasped around her throat tightly, squeezing and immobilizing her head as he pushed her roughly against the side of the house. Smythe pressed his body against hers, face to face, his dangerous and eager eyes burning holes in her.

“Now you listen and listen good you filthy fucking slut. I don’t let God fearing citizens talk to me the way you just did, and the Devil may damn me before I let one of his minions disrespect me so.” Slythe was shaking with rage as he spoke into Rebecca’s face which was rapidly turning brighter shades of red. “You talk of my proof, but I will have more than enough proof of your guilt once you have confessed your sins in print. This is my realm Jezebel, the least of your concerns should be in the minding of my tongue…”

The word tongue seemed to lull the Reverend’s own enchanted serpent out of his mouth, he slowly and deliberately licked up the side of Rebecca’s face. His breath stank of wine as it washed across her face which had become the color of wine to match.

Satisfied with his taste of her flesh Smythe was hungry for other flesh, of a cow, boar or maybe even a lamb. He released her throat, allowing her to gasp and sputter for air.

“We are going inside now, you WILL mind your manners around the Stranger. He is having very important company tonight and if you embarrass me or him in front of them I can assure you that your mind will be years away from comprehending the suffering that awaits you.”

Using her hair Reverend Smythe “guided” Rebecca into the mansion, closing the door carefully behind himself. He peeked into the dining room with a shy, mischievous grin.

“I have returned my Lord, I come bearing a new sinner who will soon bear you a confession. May I rest at your table a moment and sample of your bounty?”

 

[save_marla]

In spite of herself, Rebecca uttered a small cry when the Reverend snatched her by the hair and his fingers closed around her throat. She hated herself for it - she did not want to show fear before this vile man - but as usual, it seemed her tongue had got her into more trouble than she’d bargained for. It occurred to her again that there was no one in the village who would come for her - she must face her fate alone. She wasn’t off to a great start.

She struggled to catch her breath as Smythe pressed up against her, pinning her to the wall. She could feel his warm breath on her face, heavy with the smell of wine, as she clawed at his hand and fought to inhale. His vicious words in her ear made her skin crawl, and real fear curdled in her belly for the first time, tonight. She squeaked out a helpless protest as he ran his tongue out and caressed her face with it, and nearly collapsed when he released her at last.

Rebecca gasped for air, but offered no resistance when the Reverend clenched a fist in her hair and steered her through the open door. Her limbs felt trembly and weak as she entered the grand dining room with him and saw several people sitting at the table, men and girls she recognized from the village - and another, whom she’d never seen before.

Her gaze slid sideways as she noted the Reverend’s deference to this man, and she shuddered. What kind of man was he, if Smythe showed him so much respect?

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Susanna

Susanna spoke in a calm and quiet voice, “No, I know no such things. I do not know what you do. I do not understand what goes on here. All I know is that you make the choices; you decide what will happen here because the town made the choice to allow it. They put their faith in fear. They are motivated by the fear of God’s wrath instead of the acceptance of His love.”

The Stranger replied, "What if I told you everyone chooses to be here? What if I told you that I always give people a choice. Even Temperance here, I gave her a choice. She is here because she wants to be, and can leaven when she may."

Susanna listened with skepticism as The Stranger/Richard claimed that all his guests choose to join him but she saw there was perhaps a kernel of truth in his words. She was in the mansion because she decided to obey her Father, rather than defy him, beg, or run. Lillianne agreed to come because she feared what would happen if she did not. Temperance. Was Temperance even here or was she…

She did not flinch as his hand reached for hers, but his soft caress was as frightening to her as a slap would have been. She heard a soft breath escape him but could read nothing in his face and when his fingers closed around hers, she knew the choice was hers to pull away or not. She allowed him to hold on to her hand, keeping it within his own. She tightened her other hand around her bible but the one he held remained limply clasped in his, waiting for the chill to pass, forcing herself to endure. She wondered if her hand would warm his, or would his chill spread through her.

"That choice is yours as well.” He said, “I only wanted to meet you, Susanna. To show you what I have created, and to offer you a place by my side. You are the one, above all others. It is you, that I want."

Then Temperance screamed.

Startled, Susanna pulled back her hand from his and rose to her feet as she turned to look at the beautiful widow. Terror and horror clouded the lovely face, and the scream pierced through flesh carrying with it emotions Susanna could only imagine.

“Dear God.” Slipping her bible into her pocket, Susanna rushed to Temperance’s side, the look of terrified horror on the woman’s face spurring her to move quickly and kneel beside her. She cast a meaningful glance at The Stranger, her wide blue eyes were full of questions, but she turned her attention to the widow without asking any of them.

“Mistress Thorpe?” Susanna reached for Temperance’s hands, “Temperance, please, tell me what is wrong, let me help you.”

As Susanna tried to encourage Temperance to speak she heard the dining room door open and the rustle of a woman's skirt but it was a man who spoke, “I have returned my Lord; I come bearing a new sinner who will soon bear you a confession. May I rest at your table a moment and sample of your bounty?”

Susanna recognized the voice of Reverend Smythe but she did not take her eyes off Temperance nor did she move from the floor at her side.

 

[LitShark]

Smythe quickly surmised that the situation within was tense to say the least. Dragging Rebecca in there would only bring about more trouble, so he held her behind himself just out of view as he observed the scene. He saw Temperance trembling on one side of the stranger, and kneeling by her side was… Susanna?

He was not surprised to see Temperance there, in fact she was long overdue in his opinion, but he was as shocked to see Susanna in this place as he was shocked that she had been absent from church earlier tonight.

The Reverend wanted to seek answers but knew better than to question His authority or decisions. The Reverend opted instead to leave Rebecca standing outside just long enough to walk into the room and begin filling a plate. He would not speak again unless spoken to first.

 

[Rockingham]

His hand waved a moment at Smythe and his request, at the moment it did not matter to him what the man did. He had more important things on his plate right now.

Temperance's display did not shock him, not as easily as he would have. He did move to her, softly, carefully. Susanna seemed to be right by her side, helping her the best way possible. It looked wonderful to see them together like that, bringing a stir within him he had not felt in a long time.

"I suppose I spoke too soon," He wondered just what had caught Temperance's attention that way. To have both of these girls here now seemed more than a miracle, but if he lost Susanna now, if she crawled into some shell surrounded by her bible and never came back out he might never reach her.

"Temperance, what is wrong?" He held her hand once more, not comforting, not sending her images either good or bad, but his eyes did show concern, if glossy black pupils could show concern, that was.

 

[brigid_fitch]

Temperance

“Temperance, please, tell me what is wrong, let me help you.”

Susanna's voice barely penetrated her panicked mind. What have I done? Over and over, the only thought Temperance could discern was that question. As though awakening from a deeply troubled sleep, she tried to remember how she got to the mansion. She had been in the orchard, coming to terms with a bleak harvest, and the Stranger from the mansion was there. He had asked her about temptation, spoke to her without a trace of animosity or fear, solicited her opinion.

And showed her Richard. She had felt him, his arms around her, holding her hand until just a moment ago. Only to be replaced now by a cold clammy grasp that made her skin crawl. She barely noticed Susanna next to her anymore or Reverend Smythe entering the room; she was transfixed by those black, cold eyes staring at her. The same eyes that had appeared in the visions she had seen in the orchard, visions of horrors that had taken/would take place here.

"Temperance, what is wrong?"

The Stranger's voice again slithered into her mind, attempting to soothe her. But as the Stranger now emanated calm, Temperance's entire being quaked in fear. What had he said to Susanna moments ago? That she was here by choice? Was that true--had she in fact agreed to come, or had she been tricked, led by an apparition of Richard? And if she were to leave now (after all, if they were truly here by choice, could they not come and go as they pleased?), where would she go? Back to her dying orchard, in a town that hated her? The Stranger's grip tightened around her hand, as though he sensed her indecision. His voice, soundless but to her, crawling along her senses, echoed in a matter-of-fact way,

"What is wrong?"

Temperance prided herself on her rationale. It was what Richard loved most about her and one of the things the rest of Elmville denigrated her for. What exactly was wrong? The Stranger was correct--she *did* come willingly, in that she allowed herself to believe the phantasms of Richard as being real. The Stranger had not promised anything nor asked anything in return. He had borne her to the mansion simply for dinner and she had agreed, knowing full well what he was and what happened to the girls who came here. She looked down on Susanna, pityingly, wondering if she could somehow spare the girl the torment that was surely to come. She assured Susanna that all was well with a gentle squeeze of her hand and a smile she hoped would not seem too tired or forced.

"What is wrong?"

In league with the Devil or spend the rest of her days alone and lonely, hated and feared. Again the memory of Richard bubbled to the surface, the smell of him, the taste of him. This was what the Stranger had given her in the orchard. He had given her Richard momentarily, to prove that he could do it. That was the "bargain on the table" as he had put it. She could have Richard back, the only person who had ever truly known her, made her whole. She would have to give something in return, give it willingly. But she was unsure of what it was.

"What is wrong?"

Temperance looked at the Stranger. He was looking for an answer, letting her make the decision. His face was placid, unreadable. She released Susanna's hand and reached for a piece of bread from the plate in front of her. Tearing off a small piece, she turned again to him.

"Nothing, Richard. I apologize for my outburst. I hope I didn't alarm you." She put the piece of bread in her mouth and slowly chewed. As in the ancient story of Persephone, by eating food proffered by Hades, she was now bound to him. Her decision had been made. Her only hope now was that it would be on her own terms, not his.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Susanna

"Temperance, what is wrong?" Susanna heard the Stranger ask in a calm voice as he took Temperance’s other hand in his own. His question seemed to bring Temperance into focus, draw her back from wherever she was – the place that brought the scream to her lip. Although, she didn’t answer him immediately she appeared to be forcing her attention on the question.

As Susanna knelt on the floor at her feet, Temperance looked down to her. In the widow’s lovely face, Susanna saw sympathy, a sad compassion, as if Susanna had been the one to scream, the one in need of comfort. Anxious and still concerned, Susanna was about to ask again what had been wrong. Why had she screamed? Had The Stranger lied? Was she not here by her own choice? Did she want to leave? She felt she the right to know. In the middle of all of this with her now, if Temperance saw something or knew something Susanna wanted to know what it was. If Temperance wanted to leave, Susanna would stand with her. A quiver of fear passed through Susanna.

I will help her, if she lets me. God will give us the strength to stand together.

However, before Susanna could ask, Temperance gave her hand a gentle squeeze. It was the grasp given a child to comfort him, a reassuring touch meant to sooth or console. Susanna looked up to see a tired smile on Temperance’s face. Neither the smile nor the squeeze gave Susanna any ease but as Temperance pulled her hand away, she saw the woman would not answer any question she asked; “Richard” had her attention now.

Feeling more uneasy then ever, Susanna rose to her feet as Temperance broke her bread and casually answered, "Nothing, Richard. I apologize for my outburst. I hope I didn't alarm you."

She bobbed a nervous curtsy to the Reverend Smythe before she returned to her seat at the Stranger’s side. She could only look at the food on the table as her stomach turned in nervous knots.

Oh, merciful Lord, let me find Light in Darkness.

 

[Rockingham]

"No, it is fine. I just... hope you are all right."

His hand squeezed hers once, just once. The strain nothing more than what a snake might do to a mouse in its grasp. Then he helped her up, let her sit once more by his side.

It seemed as if she had made a decison, come to some sort of agreement with herself, or perhaps with him. He hoped she would share that soon enough.

His task, it seemed, had gotten more difficult as time went on. He knew having them together would be a problem. Temperance simply could not do this anymore, however. She would scare off Susana if she did. He did not want that. He wanted them both, but if she made him choose one over the other...

She might not like his decision.

"What if we retire somewhere more private, to talk. Susanna, Temperance? I would very much indeed enjoy your company. I am sorry Reverand, if we must cut things short. I am sure once things are settled we will be able to talk more."

He stood by the door, waiting for them. A room of darkened corners and deep shadows had opened up. It held comforts of a couch, a place to sit and drink brandy. A desk, where an old high hat sat upon the middle, and papers milled about it.

He offered his hand, "Ladies."

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Susanna

Susanna had lost confidence in Temperance’s strength but not in the strength of her own faith. She retained the hope that she could help Temperance regain what she has lost and resist what temptation caused her to stay willingly at “Richard’s” side.

He offered his hand, "Ladies."

Susanna was too straightforward and too honest to predict the tactics and gauge the manipulations of others but even she understood The Stranger wanted to separate them from the others because it would be his advantage. However, she could see no clear advantage in refusing; there was no hope in remaining in the dining room.

The presence of Reverend Smythe offered no comfort; he fit too easily into the Mansion, and worse, his voice held no compassion for the “sinner” he claimed to bring with him. No, he was too happy to be here to offer anyone assistance, too eager to hear a confession to be interested in the truth. There would be no help from him.

She understood that the refusal of The Stranger’s invitation could result in their separation. Then each of them would face whatever The Stranger had in mind alone. Together they had the chance to help each other.

Susanna removed her bible from her pocket and held it in her hands. On her feet, she took the few steps to Temperance’s side. “Temperance, shall we join our host?”

 

[brigid_fitch]

"No, it is fine. I just... hope you are all right."

Richard's voice was devoid of emotion, much like his face. The concern that had almost been present before had now left, leaving only the stare of those dead, black eyes. Only the gentle pressure he now put on her hand, chilling her to the bone, gave any indication that the man was truly alive in any sense of the word.

He turned to Susanna as she went back to her seat at the dining room. Now his face changed, showed unmistakable longing. And when he turned back to her, there was dismay. A brief shudder shook through Temperance--she had done something wrong. She had displeased Richard and, unfortunately, she knew all too well what happened to girls who displeased him. Thankfully, it was only a glance, but it was enough to scare Temperance badly. Richard then looked at the both of them, his voice pleasant once again, announcing they would be able to speak more privately elsewhere. She was glad they were leaving the dining room, from the Reverend Slythe who was only less imposing in his demeanor than Richard. By moving to another room, Temperance hoped Richard would forget her outburst. Above all, she did not want him angry with her. And as long as Susanna was close by, he seemed incapable of real anger.

“Temperance, shall we join our host?”

Temperance looked at Susanna's outstretched hand and smiled at the irony. The girl, this daughter of the Deacon who dutifully followed the orders of the church and all her elders, was now taking the lead. And Temperance, known to be fiercely independent, was now numbly moving to follow her. She took the girl's hand and noted the ever-present bible in her other one. Susanna had her faith to keep her strong. What did Temperance have left?

And as they entered the sitting room, Temperance reached out for Richard's hand.

 

[Rockingham]

They reached the room, an office with a roaring fireplace to keep it warm and books all along one wall. It looked plush, comfortable, welcoming in fact. Didn't it all look welcoming? The whole house had this feel of entrance and desire, with dark shadows lurking beyond everything.

The stranger turned to Temperance, who took his hand now. Whatever fight had been in her seemed to have slipped away. A shame, he would have liked to see her fight some more. To resist. Still, she had agreed to nothing. But, the way her hand found his, snaking out into the darkness, searching for her own beacon of light, he imagined it would not take much.

Susanna, on the other hand, still stayed with her faith. It ruled her, never leaving her side.

In the room, he let his finger trail down Susanna's arm. The soft quake of her flesh reminded him just what he had wanted her for. She may have her faith, but in here... she was all his.

"You have, such soft skin, Susana," He touched so lightly. The touch of an angel, if there were one. The smooth caress as it ran up her arm, moving up and down.

He turned to her, making her look at him once more. He felt strongest when she was forced to look at him. Wild and fiery eyes, catching hers, for a moment the fire pooled within them, making his heart stir with desire.

"Tell me," He leaned in closer, ever so much closer now. Dark were his movements, smooth and seamless like shadows along the wall. Even still holding Temperance's hand, still helping her to find warmth and comfort in his domain, he moved forward.

Their bodies pressed together, his heartbeat hard and savage in his chest. She could feel it, this close she could just as well hear its maddening pace.

"Tell me what you want," He whispered in her ear, dark and low, his cheek brushing against hers.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Susanna

Susanna and Temperance followed The Stranger to the other room hand-in-hand, Susanna’s warm fingers wrapped around Temperance’s cold hand but when they reached the office, Temperance slipped her hand from the soft gasp and took hold of “Richard’s”. Without the other girl’s hand in hers, Susanna felt a loss she could not understand but she watched at the Stranger’s gaze fell upon Temperance with a speculative expression on his face.

She turned away, unwilling to watch things she could not hope to understand. She wanted to help Temperance but if she put up no resistance of her own Susanna did not know how she could help her. She gazed into the fire, considering the young widow’s plight, her previous dream like state, her violent awakening, and her ready, eager acceptance of the Stranger. The only answer that made sense appalled and terrified Susanna. It meant that Temperance might already be losing herself to the Stranger, her Richard.

Her desire to think in peace led her to step towards the fireplace but before she could move away, she felt the Stranger’s finger paint a cold line down her arm. She shivered at his touch, and turned slightly refusing to look at him.

"You have, such soft skin, Susana." His touch on her skin was so light, so soft it could have been a delicate breeze or a breath of air, only a glance from the corner of her eye made impossible to deny it was his touch. As if he knew it would happen, as she took a glimpse, he turned, capturing her gaze and forcing her to look at him. His eyes burned into hers with a boundless heat.

"Tell me." He moved closer and she thought she knew how the mouse must feel when captured by the serpent’s gaze. Sinister and sinuous, he moved like a shade, ghostly and yet unyielding. He pushed against her, pressing his body against hers. She could feel the wild beating of his heart pummel her skin, hear it pounding in her ears, she stiffened. Her small, delicate body went taut, muscles tensing like stings on a bow. She felt a dark fear rising within her and her fingers gripped tightly around the focus of her Faith.

"Tell me what you want," He whispered in her ear, dark and low, his cheek brushing against hers.

Slowly, cautiously, she shakes her head brushing her soft cheek against his as she denies his words. She allows other words to fill her head and sooth her fears.

In this time of anxiety, O loving God, grant me peace of mind. Quiet any distress and allow me to see clearly. Oh, merciful Lord, let me find Light in Darkness.

“No.” A single word, softly spoken but as it passes her lips she pulls away from him, leaving him the steady grasp of Temperance’s hand.

Her fear abating though not releasing her, she continues, “I will not play your games. Like the serpent in the Garden, you seek to tempt with your voice, your words, and your… grace.”

 

[Rockingham]

"You are right, as always," His voice remaining that calm cool steeled voice he always had. As if he had expected such a reaction, taken it into consideration in his plans. In truth, he did no such thing, but the ways his eyes remained steady, catching that erupting fire in his large pupils, one would never know.

"But, even in Eden, the snake never forced anything. He never lied, he only offered the truth, did he not? He may have manipulated, but he only took what they already felt in their hearts, what... you... already feel."

The touch, running down her arm, burning inside of her belly. He let his fingers linger along her skin, before turning to Temperance. His breat hot on her neck, just the way Richard played before he wanted her.

Richard would come to bed, snuggle under the covers, let her feel his breath on her neck, then he would take her. Ease her from the cold durng the night, their bodies entwining, becoming one.

"Not all have the struggle as you do, Sweet Susana," He nuzzled against Temperance's neck, letting her melt into him. The fire dancing in his eyes as he stared at Susana, defied her, the soft smile on his lips even as it tasted the sweet flesh from Temperance.

"We all do what we must, isn't that right, sweetheart?" He asked Temperance, licking her ear lobe, sucking on it gently.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

"You are right, as always," His voice was calm and cool.

He toys with me, he knows my words before I speak them, and he knows my thoughts before I make them mine. Nothing I do or say surprises him. He knows too much or he knows me too well. Should I try to surprise him? Can I confuse him as he tries to confuse me? No. I cannot play his game. He may know be but he cannot know my Faith. My Faith is my strength, not my words.

"But, even in Eden, the snake never forced anything. He never lied; he only offered the truth, did he not? He may have manipulated, but he only took what they already felt in their hearts, what... you... already feel."

No. … In this, he is wrong.

However, his fingers warmed a knot in her belly as they trailed softly down her arm. She could not deny the strange feeling of warmth. She wanted to tell herself that the physical sensation was imaginary, an illusion created by her frightened mind but that would be a lie. A lie of the most dangerous kind, it would be a lie between herself and God. She knew it was her flesh not her heart he touched, but she had to admit she felt… something.

"Not all have the struggle as you do, Sweet Susanna," She watched him smile as he kissed Temperance, and even as the widow relaxed Susanna knew he was waiting for her response.

“Not everyone understands the nature of the battle and worse, some mistake falling from the righteous path for Damnation. They forget that the Merciful Father forgives the repentant sinner. You twist the truth until it is all but lost and hope is weakened.”

"We all do what we must, isn't that right, sweetheart?" He asked Temperance, licking her ear lobe, sucking on it gently.

Look on Temperance’s face gave no answers to Susanna. She wanted to turn away, she did not want to watch, but she needed to know why such a good woman as Temperance Thorpe would yield so easily to dark temptations. Was the answer in the truths he twisted or the lies he told? Could Temperance’s answer help her with her own struggle?

 

[brigid_fitch]

A shudder went through Temperance as she felt Richard's hand in hers. It was not her Richard; she could not lie to herself anymore. But as he nuzzled against her neck, it was difficult to discern between the two. This was just as Richard would do and oh, how she longed for him. One night, not too long ago, the snows had come early and much of the wood they had stored was still too green to burn well. They had had to conserve what little seasoned firewood there was, using it only sparingly. Richard had been at the mill very late and Temperance was already in bed. Sleep was hard to come by due to the bitter cold, despite the piles of quilts she buried herself under. Even so, she had slept lightly, waiting for Richard's return. When he did come home to her, he crawled under the quilts, sharing his warmth as he curled up against her. He pulled her close, her back against his torso, lying together like two spoons in a drawer. And he breathed gently against her neck, nibble on her earlobe, and her body had reacted even before she was fully awake.

That night, he had been drinking--she could smell the ale and the pipe tobacco of the tavern. The cold had sobered him up somewhat, but he was in a rare mood. Persistent, but not rough, he held her against him, her back to him, and fondled her breasts as he continued to suck and gently bite her earlobe. Her nipples were already hard from the cold, but he warmed them between his fingers, rolling them, squeezing them, eliciting soft moans from her. When she tried to turn towards him, he held her fast--he was in control and was going to keep it that way.

His other hand moved between her legs, prying them apart. He stroked her gently, running his finger along her sex, feeling the moisture there as her continued to tease her nipples. He slipped a finger inside of her, stroking gently, feeling her muscles simultaneously relax yet closing on his finger, trying to draw him in further. A second finger joined the first, pumping into her, his thumb circling her swollen clit. His strong arms held her against him as she struggled to turn over to kiss him. She wanted more of him, anything to relieve the torture of pleasure.

And then he withdrew his hand, leaving her feeling empty and alone for the briefest of moments. She remembered that feeling, the harshness, the injustice--to bring her so close and then abandon her. It was a feeling she never forgot. Thankfully, it did not last long, as he plunged his rigid cock inside her, filling her completely, driving away the emptiness with one quick movement of his hips. With both arms now around her, he moved her in time with his thrusts, pounding into her with a ferocity she had never seen in him before. And when she came, it was an explosion of pleasure, the likes of which she had never experienced. Richard continued to thrust into her, his mouth on the back of her neck, breathing heavily, until he came with a roar. They fell asleep like that--her back to him, his arms wrapped tightly around her, never letting her go, always keeping her safe.

The memory played in her mind as this new Richard continued to kiss and nuzzle her neck. She knew the difference between the two, and knew there was no emotion, no passion in this Richard's attention. Still, it was too much like her own Richard and she couldn't stop herself from reacting to it. She leaned against him, hearing him speak to Susanna, but not caring. Then she realized he had turned his attentions to her.

"We all do what we must, isn't that right, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. It was what Richard had called her. How could she not answer?

"Yes, Richard," she answered breathily, her eyes closing as he nibbled and sucked at her earlobe as her Richard had done. She was almost lost again as her lust rose, but she felt Susanna's gaze upon her. She had almost forgotten about the girl. Susanna was staring at her, her eyes fixed. Temperance stiffened--the mansion, Reverend Slythe, the girls below in the basement. Those memories now pushed out the previous one. She stood up straight, no longer leaning into Richard as he continued to kiss her neck and shoulders. Turning to him, a bit of her old, willful self returning. She stared into those dead, black eyes, challenging him and repeated more strongly. "Yes, Richard--but you haven't told me yet what it is you think I must do."

 

[Rockingham]

He stared back between the two girls, from one to another, as if he were watching some match between them. One and then another. The thoughts chased themselves in darkened circles through him, as he moved around to Temperance's back.

He pressed against her, his head upon her shoulders, looking over her like some demented angel. When he spoke it was to both of them, but he whispered delightly in Temperance's ear.

"I don't suppose you could convince Susana here that I am not out to manipulate and twist every word she speaks against her, could you? I would give you your Richard back for that alone... this girl is defiant. Pliable and defiant, and loyal to the end. I don't think even if I took her by force she would break."

No, he had seen this before. Her physical body could be broken battered and bruised, but she would remained untouched. He had to take her in her mind, that is where her defences were up, where he power laid.

"Susana, this merciful god of yours. He forgives all, does he not? Forgives the man who is penitant and kind, and seeks forgiveness. Does he forgive me?"

He let his lips play along Temperance's supple skin. He had his idea formed now. This wonderful and horrible idea at once. It ran chills up his spine. He had been playing this game all wrong. He thought he had to divide the girls and conquer them seperately, but they need to fall together.

If he fell them both at the same time, they would submit as one, in unison. The thought drove him further, as his hands moved down Temperance's sides, helping her push back against him.

"Does he forgive Temperance here, for the thoughts she has, the betrayal on her lips?"

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Susanna

"We all do what we must, isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Richard," Temperance answered breathily, Susanna watched the young widow tense and then stand on her own, pulling away from her Richard and standing straight. "Yes, Richard--but you haven't told me yet what it is you think I must do." To Susanna's ear, Temperance's voice is solid, and real, no longer part of her own dreamy world and she sees it as a sign of hope.

However, the Stranger seemed undisturbed by Temperance’s newfound independence. The question crossed Susanna’s mind, was he expecting this, too? He never took has hands off her, he never let her fully escape from his touch. Even as he circled her, watching, gauging both girls, and then pressed his body against Temperance’s back.

His words were a seductive whisper in Temperance’s ear but meant for Susanna, as well. "I don't suppose you could convince Susana here that I am not out to manipulate and twist every word she speaks against her, could you? I would give you your Richard back for that alone... this girl is defiant. Pliable and defiant, and loyal to the end. I don't think even if I took her by force she would break."

Susanna could not suppress the shudder of fear as it struck through her, and she trembled as the threat of his words revealed their true meaning. Her ignorance had allowed her to be misled; her innocence hid the truth from her.

"Susana, this merciful god of yours. He forgives all, does he not? Forgives the man who is penitent and kind, and seeks forgiveness. Does he forgive me?"

Her free hand fluttered nervously, despite the simplicity of the question. Her eyes never left the beautiful pair, The Widow and the Stranger, she watched as his lips and his continue to move over Temperance but she could not see the other girl’s face. She had shown strength, but will she maintain it or is the offer of the return of her “Richard” too tempting.

"Does he forgive Temperance here, for the thoughts she has, the betrayal on her lips?"

“I do not know what games you play with Mistress Thorpe, or how you deceive her and make the promise of returning what she has lost, who she has lost, but I know she will receive His forgiveness if she wants it and she asks for it.” Her eyes move from Temperance then back to his. Emboldened by her faith, she lifted her chin and raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “And you? When in your heart you regret your sins, from the first to the last, when you lament your transgressions, when you fall to your knees and beg for His forgiveness, when you submit to His judgment, He will show you his mercy and give you absolution.” Although she does not break from his gaze, her sure voice softens, and almost pleads, “The Divine Redeemer does not deny you His Grace, you refuse to accept it.”

 

[Rockingham]

"You think I refuse?" At once his hand came up, as if to appear in front of them, in front of her, catching her throat. So small, so dainty as his fingers locked together. He squeezed, for the joy of squeezing, for the love of watching those eyes reveal in his true strength, and his true capabilities.

But, he let go, just an instant of pain. He let her go, his hand once more loving and affectionate. Nothing more than a pup who would lick your hand, nip it just once, and then lick again.

"I have asked forgiveness. I have asked for mercy, but He gives me nothing. My absolution is the shadow, my realm is that which he flings to me. You think I know not what you do? You think I too am some small sinner who feels the virgin Mary can wash my sins away?"

He trailed her, his fingers running down her side, playing with the bible still in her one hand. A moment as his finger ran along the outer cover. It felt so heavy in her hands, the word of Gog lulling her.

"He forces loyalty, I offer choice. He gives you plagues, I hand out promise. In your darkest of hours he is nowhere to be found... but me?"

The door closed, the lights flickering around her, dancing on her skin. The shadows lingering for a moment, long dark calloused fingernails grazing on your skin to push and touch and pry into the darkest recesses of her mind.

He came close, close enough to smell her, close enough to let their bodies touch.

"I offer so much and ask for so little, he offers nothing yet you give him all you have. That is a great task, nobler even than the highest of martyr."

He found a way into her mind now. A passage through that dark haze she continued to keep up. Yes, he knew what to do now. He could get her to break. Sooner or later they all broke. This one would be no different.

 

[Britwitch]

Amber

His hands glided across her skin, teasing her nipples, making her groan into their kiss, a kiss that was all at once gentle, innocent, hungry and passionate. While one of her hands continued to stroke his shaft, the other arm moved to curl around his neck, drawing him close, wanting him ever closer.
"You can come for me,"
Amber whimpered her response to his husky words, her fingers closing more firmly around the hard flesh of his sex, her body pressing closer to his. An urgency growing more and more evident in her movements. As his finger slid inside her, her hips rocked against it, drawing it deeper, her internal muscles holding his finger tightly.

She broke the kiss, moving only until she could see into his eyes, see the pleasure, the enjoyment shining back at her as she squeezed and massaged his sex again and again. Her own hips rocking incessantly against his gently probing finger. Her legs parted, one rising to bend at the knee and rest almost upon his waist. Amber bit her lower lip slightly as her back arched, tilting her hips and causing his finger to press against deeper, more sensitive areas of her sex. She groaned and sighed, her heart begin to grow louder in her ears as the excitement and pleasure grew steadily at her core, threatening at any moment to overwhelm her.

And then it did. With a soft cry, tears silently running out from under her closed lids, she came. Her body shuddering and trembling against him, her sex gripping his finger desperately. Hips jerking wantonly and her chest pressing against his. Her mouth captured his in a hungry kiss once more as her body began to come back down from the high he had driven it to, all the while her hand still running up and down the length of him.
"Oh...oh Michael..." She whispered, her voice trembling as the flickering torchlight bathed her shivering body and his with it's dancing, warm light.