A Witch Hunt

[poohlive]

Ned moved to Abigail's other side. His hands lay gently on her body, letting the cloth she tried to cover herself with slowly run down to the floor. Fingers played with her sex, still dripping in sin, juices flowing over her spread legs.

It looked interesting, to see Ned on one side, tempting her, while Susanna sit on the other, helping her to pray. Ned had another way to pray, one way she could finally rid herself of such evils.

"There is a way, we must help each other," He spoke, as his hand ran down her side, to her one arm, helping to guide it on his own body. He watched as her fingers played with his neck, and then against his shirt.

"But, I must be purged as well. I need to be saved Abigail. You are the daughter of our Reverand. You can save me... you're the only one who can."

He helped her hand move down. Down to his britches, underneath the hardened fabric, where he stood, hard, thick, throbbing. Her slight delicate fingers exploring wth such a tenderness Ned nearly groaned just at the first touch. He already turned to her, whispering temptation in her ear.

"I can help you, we can help each other. Isn't that what you want? Isn't that what you need?"

But as he smiled, he looked passed Abigail, passed her soft features and curious new need, to Susanna. An eager smile as he felt Abigail's grip on his cock strengthen.

"That's it... baby..."

 

[Rockingham]

"Take me," He spoke, after a long pause. It filled the dungeon, this small room with such weight, pulling down everything. Even his eyes were a darker shade, convinced of their touch.

Only a soft caress remained. He brought his cheek to hers, and let her feel him, so warm, so tender.

"Take me and teach me."

He rose to help her up. The soft bed held a number of stains, both old and new She didn't deserve to wallow in that filth anymore though. He held out a dress for her, letting it slip over her shoulders, wrapping perfectly around her skin.

He himself wore proud distinguished clothes, regal and simple. Only a thought and they appeared. He graced her hand, and helped her step from the cell.

Sounds deeper into the dungeon could be heard. Michael only glanced a moment, seeing dark red pupils of his father's eyes glance over him. That would be enough. Those would follow him for the rest of his life, but nothing more came of it. His father didn't do anything except look.

Michael wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

They rose up from the stairs, out into the normal house. It looked perfect, but still the taint of below had risen up, festering in the shadows that climbed the walls. He led her out of her, to a waiting carriage.

And they drove. They went passed murk and forest, rambling thorns running through the countryside and acres of farmed land. They did not rest until they were well clear of Father's land. He had the carriage stop on Temperance's property, her house and the apple fields beyond.

"Here... can we do it here? Is this enough, Mother? Tell me, show me..."

 

[wideeyedone]

abigail

"there are too many eyes here." she whispered in a soft, thready voice. her eyes were welling with tears. the need inside was like the ivy growing up the side of the church, relentless and choking off the the roses. "Please..." Abigail looked up at Ned with her trusting brown eyes. "I am so cold here...and Susannah is confusing me." Abigail had always been a clever girl, but these carnal pleasures had muddied her thoughts, or maybe it was the red eyes that seemed to see right into her soul. She couldn't name it or fight it. Whatever it was, the girl she had been when she had been dragged to the cell was slipping further and further away.

The noises seemed louder. Susannah and the Stranger talking, Temperance's footsteps... the sounds were deafening to Abigail. She did all that she knew to do. She removed her hand from Ned's britches and slipped her arms around his neck, pressing herself to his broad chest. Her bare body nestled against him.

"I am afraid, do not leave me." She whispered, her voice as soft and innocent as a little girls. Her voice sounded just as it was when she had pleaded with her father as a little girl. Somehow this temptation and wickedness brought out that vulnerable softness. Her breasts pressed into his body, the nipples rubbing against his shirt. Her fragrant hair veiled her. She was in essence, offering herself to Ned, even if she didn't know it.