Witch Hunt

[Rockingham]

"I will help you, sweet angel. That is what I am here to do, what we are all here to do. Help you. Help the poor innocent girls who have lost themselves here. So many have fought, or tried to run, so many have not realized that within these walls God is waiting, salvation is hiding."

He brought her single tear up to his lips, drinking it in, feeling her sorrow, her sadness. She was weak and begging for help, just as he wanted her. Just as he needed her.

"My angel, the first step is seeking help. The second, is in redemption. I want you to confess to me. Confess your sins. Confess what you have done, what your choices have told you.

"You laid with this man. I saw you, you laid with him as willingly as if he were your husband. Why, why dear sweet angel? Why would a loving caring woman such as yourself sink to such levels? Confess to me... confess the truth."

His eyes were wandering hers, trying to feel for what she needed, what she feared inside. Was it being alone? No, not exactly. As his pale blue eyes drank in hers, he could see it, he found it. She wanted love, she wanted caring, she wanted someone.

Michael held her in his arms, wrapping them around her, giving her the comfort and care she needed. His teeth came out, but he resisted. He would resist, for a little longer. He wanted to play with her some more, wrap her further along his fingers.

"Tell me, dear sweet angel. Confess. Every little detail. Replay it back in your mind, for I saw enjoyment in your eyes, did I not? The Lord sees all, Angel. He sees, so you can not lie to him, or me..."

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

Ned, Avalon, and Amber

"Show me, help me Avalon,"

She looked up at Ned, who was still rocking, slowly, but still moving, within Amber's ass...

"yes... Ned... I can show You... help You... "

She... she would bring Him 2... 2 that would worship Him... 2 souls for Him to use... Both Ned and Amber...

Avalon/Ambrosia moved from Amber's side, but she did allow her fingers to touch along the girl's back "I will be here, I am not leaving You" she whispered... before turning her attention to Ned....

"Pull out of her Ned" she whispered... "Your hurting her.... we... we can bring her pleasure... she needs to feel only... pleasure.. such wonderful pleasure... but first... she, Amber, must be cleansed. The seed of many, many who are tainted and dirty, fouls her skin, and her insides. There is a large horse trough down in the barn, let us fill it with water and bathe her..."

The idea may have sounded strange, if any sane person was listening.. but she knew He would want her cleansed... He had told her, when she had been sent to prepare Sasha and failed, He had told her to give her what she herself was denied... to let her feel only pleasure... to cleanse her for Him....

It was funny that Ned acutally listened to Avalon/Ambrosia, it was as if He were in a trance...

Amber was lifted, and carefully carried down from the loft, the loft of horrors where so much pain had occurred. While Ned busied Himself with filling the large trough, Avalon/Ambrosia held the trembling girl against her, running slender fingers thru her semen matted hair... "shhhh.... all will be ok now... " she cooed.... "He will make it ok"....

Once the trough was filled, both Amber and Avalon climbed in, she cradling the shivering girl against the softness of her own body. Ned, again, strangely gentle began to wash them... His large hands slowly moving the water over the naked bodies of the 2 girls....

 

[stubborn wench]

A faint voice in the very back of her mind warned her against trusting this stranger, but ohh, she wanted so badly to believe.. She had abandoned all hope of finding God anywhere in this place, but now this man was reassuring her, that she need not run, to be saved. He seemed to believe it, himself.

Abigail almost shook her head at his urging to confess her sins - did he still believe her a witch? She'd done nothing, to be imprisoned here -

- her cheeks flushed a shameful scarlet as he recounted her acts with the Reverend...ah God, yes that was her sin.. If salvation could be found so easily here, then she had sold herself rather cheaply. She had become the whore her employer fantasized about. Abby lowered her head - she could not look this man in the eyes.

But then he took her into his arms and held her close, and she was overwhelmed by his forgiving nature - he knew she was soiled, but he still wished to help her. Tears slid down her cheeks, even as he crooned in her ear, reminding her of the pleasure she had felt with the Reverend - he had witnessed it, and he had judged her. She could not deny it, even to herself - he had seen the truth.

She lifted her tearstained face to look up at him. She must confess this, her guilt, her sin - surely it was a small offence in the eyes of God? And she was a good girl in all other respects - she had nothing else to confess...she had lain with her employer, of course, but - that was against her will! She pushed it out of her mind.

"I confess my sin," she answered quietly. "I-I did tempt the Reverend...I thought, if he were pleased with me, he might show me some favour and mercy, and set me free before they came to question us."

She stifled a shudder, and crawled further into his embrace. "I knew it was wrong, but - I could see - I mean, I thought he wanted me..."

"And he did!" she hurried to add. The Reverend, for all his talk of testing her, could not be entirely blameless.

Abigail paused again, pressing her hot face into his arm as she continued at a murmur, "I did not want to take pleasure in it. I never have enjoyed that act - but I had only myself to barter with..." She frowned, remembering the violent ecstacy she had felt, with the Reverend pounding away at her. She felt a pleasurable twinge between her legs, as her body remembered, as well.

"But I felt....such pleasure, sir," her voice was hushed in wonder. "It went on and on, and in those moments I cared nothing for God or Satan, or this cell or my freedom - I felt as if the light of Heaven shone only for me...and I revelled in it."

She stopped, astonished at herself. The pious did not seize Heaven for their own - even if only for a few moments. She glanced furtively at his face, but it was unreadable. Was this blasphemy, or the honest confession he'd asked of her?

Abby hurried to repent. "But - but it was a moment of lunacy, I see that now, and I beg God's forgiveness..."

 

[flithymind]

Smythe baulked and protested at her words - trying to implicate him in her evil witchery... it was so obvious she was trying to absolve herself of blame.

He began to voice his protest, but, cradling her, the man raised a single finger to quiet him.

Well, yes... that did seem proper - she should not be interupted in her confession, that was a Holy thing - but surely... and he started to interject again, only for that finger to quell the words in his throat.

Ah, now he saw. The man was clearly an expert confessor, he was drawing her words out of her. He probably already knew which were true and which were falsehoods - why not give her enough rope to hang herself.

He smiled to himself, self-satisfied and waited.

Her words regarding the pleasure he had wreaked on her body were, oddly comforting and Smythe felt himself stir slightly. Her witchery was still strong - surely He could feel it too?

 

[Rockingham]

"God always forgives my child. He has forgiven much in his time. Even a moment of weakness. But, in forgiveness there is a promise, do you understand? If you ask forgiveness, then you know now it is a sin. You know you can never do it again."

The man of cloth wished to speak. Michael did not understand what he would have to say, but knew it not a good time. This woman was slowly becoming under his spell, slowly wrapping the last of her hope around him. If this man of cloth spoke, it might break her, she might get scared and close up.

Abigail was a flower now, a soft petaled flower which needed to be opened, and Michael was the sun, slowly drawing her out. A soft petaled flower can not be forced open, it must be coaxed. She must do so willingly.

That was a word Michael longed for her, willingly. If it came from her lips, if she chose this for herself, then all would be well.

And Michael would get to feast again.

"Is this bout of weakness over though, dear sweet angel? Do you understand the flesh is weak and filled with carnal desire?"

His hand slipped down between them. How easy it was now that she kneeled so close to him. Fingers, trailing her body like a woven smoke slowly rising to the sky.

She was naked, and where his fingers touched, desire spilled into her. He could feel the gooseflesh of her. He held her close, his hand moving, slowly, snaking down.

It pressed against her mound, it touched. Those slippery folds, still warm, her heated core still radiating. Her clit, hard and extended, almost seaching for his touch.

"See," He cooed, he whispered into her ear, his lips like a lover, soft and inviting, "You still feel it, don't you? You still wish to be touched, to be played with. Do you want the reverand to use you once again?"

Juices, her thick and musky juices spilled onto his fingers. He brought them up to her, made her look at them, smell them.

"You must confess all, dear sweet angel, for God to forgive."

 

[poohlive]

The sickening bittersweet sound of leaving her nearly filled the room. A rush of cum and blood ran from her ass. It was far from the tight hole he had seen before, now it was gaping and wide. He could see blackness inside, beyond those walls of pink before it slowly closed up.

He helped carry Amber down to the horse trough. She could barely stand herself.

"I tried, tried to bring her pleasure... like I did you Avalon. I tried, but she ran from me, into the arms of those men. I told her not to run, I told her... but she did not listen. She never listened to me. Maybe, maybe she will listen to you. I only wanted to bring her pleasure. I only wanted to make you both feel soo good. I can do that again, I can bring you both so much pleasure."

Just like he was taught, like he had learned lessons from his own mother. She had helped him find what a woman likes, what she needs. He brang water from the well, he used a towel, cleaning Amber's broke and used body.

The spit from so many faces, the cum from so many cocks. He wiped her clean, wiped away the rape from before, to leave her shining and new underneath.

When he cleaned her pussy, he did not do so from a lover, only a man who had been assigned to clean. He was soft and gentle, he helped ease the cum from her, helped those pussy lips to once more be soft and beautiful.

And, he started to clean Avalon as well. She had a better look, she was untouched, flawless, but he cleaned her anyway. The bath water now pink with blood, and small goblets of cum running around, such dirty water to get them both clean.

Ned was there, willing, ready to follow orders, to bring them their very desires. He was here to help, and clean...

He smiled as he did so.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Susanna

“Do not let him keep you too long, Susanna.” Joanna says as she raises her hand to touch her daughter’s cheek. “Patience and I will want your help with the floors; we are depending on you to beat the rugs.”

“No longer than usual, Mother, but just to make certain, I will discourage the Virgil today and ask for help with my Hebrew instead. He is very close to giving up entirely on that subject.” Susanna smiles, she too is ready to give up on the Hebrew but her father always asks her to try again, try a little harder. Under his tutelage, Latin was not too difficult, but Greek was a struggle, and now, Hebrew is defeating her.

Joanna scoffs, her lips pursing together as she packs her husband’s lunch into a canvas sack. “I think it is about time, too.” Part of Joanna understood her husband’s desire to share his knowledge and love of learning with their only child. But she frequently wondered, what good Latin, Greek, and Hebrew do Susanna, when like every woman in the community, she only needed to read English to study the Bible.

Picking up the lunch sack, Susanna kisses her mother’s cheek. “I’ll hurry, Mother.” A black bonnet is over her white house cap and a short black cape sits on her shoulders, as she quickly heads out of the house. A figure in black and gray, she moves down the path in stark contrast to the warm colors of early autumn.

Six days a week, everyday except Sunday, Susanna walks into town taking her father his lunch. It is a special part of the day for Susanna. For three minutes, as she walks the arc in the path that curves the short distance from her home to Forrest Wilson’s office, Susanna is truly alone. Unseen by anyone, obscured from both house and office, visible only to God, she feels the closest to Him during those solitary three minutes.

She learned if she walked slowly, she could stretch three to five but it never seemed right to cheat her parents to get closer to God. No, three minutes was perfect.

 

[Britwitch]

"I will be here, I am not leaving You"

Avalon's comforting voice and soothing touch came down to Amber in the hay, calming her almost instantly.

"Pull out of her Ned...Your hurting her.... we... we can bring her pleasure... she needs to feel only... pleasure.. such wonderful pleasure... but first... she, Amber, must be cleansed. The seed of many, many who are tainted and dirty, fouls her skin, and her insides. There is a large horse trough down in the barn, let us fill it with water and bathe her..."

Amber cried out weakly as Ned removed his shaft from inside her. Her body screaming in discomfort as he did so, her tortured flesh stinging as his sex finally left her behind. Feeling a steady stream of cooling liquid seeping out between her thighs. The next thing Amber was aware of was being carried, gently, carefully, down to the main barn where she was placed with Avalon while Ned filled the horse trough.

"shhhh.... all will be ok now... He will make it ok"....

Amber whimpered as Avalon held her close, stroking her filthy hair, the black locks dull and twisted from her ordeal.

"I tried, tried to bring her pleasure... like I did you Avalon. I tried, but she ran from me, into the arms of those men. I told her not to run, I told her... but she did not listen. She never listened to me. Maybe, maybe she will listen to you. I only wanted to bring her pleasure. I only wanted to make you both feel soo good. I can do that again, I can bring you both so much pleasure."

Amber looked up, desperately at Avalon, feeling an overwhelming urge...almost as if she needed to defend herself...or confess...
"...I didn't...I swear I didn't...I tried to keep His gift for the husband He promised I would find but...but Ned chased me and the men..the men caught me...I fought...I tried to break free but they were too strong..." Tears rolling down her once rosy cheeks.

Once in the horse trough, with Avalon cradling her from behind, Amber allowed Ned close enough to cleanse her body. This was obviously what He wanted to happen and so she tried to remain calm as Ned's hands passed over her flesh, tending to the scratches and bites, tenderly cleaning her sex and behind...until the once clear water was stained with the blood and seed of her rape. His touch was so different to the way it had been. Amber felt herself relaxing back against Avalon, feeling her breasts pressing into her back, her soft body wrapping warmly, comfortingly around her own.

 

[stubborn wench]

Abby bowed her head in smiling gratitude as he spoke reassuringly of forgiveness. At last, it seemed there was a light at the end of this long tunnel, and all her sins could be lifted from her...

Her smile faltered a little when he told her she must never do it again. She kept her head down - keeping her expressive face hidden from view - she knew the disappointment she felt would show plainly.

She struggled with her unexpected reaction - she knew that what she had done was wrong, and that even the intense pleasure she'd felt - was somehow wrong to have felt...but, to never feel it again? Never? To never seek that warmth again, when she was alone in the dark, or try to kindle that flame with a husband, should she marry...? Never again?

Abigail blushed as his voice interrupted her thoughts, questioning her, and the weakness of her woman-flesh, and she tried to nod her acceptance of these terms - but found she could not. She stared at the floor, astonished at her own weak will.

She did not notice his movements until his fingers brushed her bare skin, making her jump, and she looked up at him, uncertainly. His touch sent her into shudders - nothing graceful or dainty - trembling like an animal in heat as he traced his fingers across her belly, and then down, between her legs.

"Oh God..." she whimpered, pressing close to him, so that she wouldn't have to see. She looked up into his eyes as his hand moved still lower, and she moaned aloud as he parted her slick folds and probed thoughtfully. Without looking, she knew she had thrust her hips forward to meet him, to take as much of him into her as possible, in that position - and when he tweaked her clit her knees buckled and she drove herself down on his fingers, forcing them deep.

Abby whined like a cat as his lips moved gently against her ear, his warm whispering as much a devilish tease as the fingers he slipped from her body now, shamefully wet and smelling of sin.


And she wanted, she craved - oh something, anything! She heard herself murmuring eagerly, "Yes...yes....." knowing she damned herself - not caring - taking his fingers as he offered them to her, and flicking her pink tongue out hesitantly - the smell and the taste of her arousal inflaming her all the more.

She clung to him now and pressed her lips to his ear, as he had done to her, and whispered fiercely, "Both - I want you both....please....."

 

[Rockingham]

"The flesh is weak..." He whispered, his lips were now touching her bare skin, kissing her, bringing her more pleasure. She deserved more pleasure for this confession, for her own body betraying her, and she following it.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

"Both of us?" His words soft, silken, velvet upon her skin, "No. That is not good enough. I told you of confession, I told you everything. That is the half truth, to want something. You must tell me."

He pushed her from him, pushing her so they no longer touched. He was still so close, lingering upon her skin, but not close enough to touch. He denied her his heat.

"Confess. Tell me what you feel, what you want. Leave out no detail. You want to fuck the reverand, do you not? You want to wrap your lips around my cock, take my seed into your mouth? Open wide and let me see it before you swallow?"

His cock did stir at that, she could feel it pressing against her thigh, she could. He took her hand, guided it to him.

"Ask it of us, dear sweet angel. Confess and ask us to use you, and we will. We will make all of your promises come true."

 

[stubborn wench]

She burned in her shame....but it was a pleasurable warmth, between her legs, and she squirmed like an eel as his lips teased her again.

Abby clung to him as he pushed her gently away, she tried to keep close to him, mumbling frantically, "I want...both....oh I want...."

But he was firm in his demand that she articulate her evil desires - the devil would have his payment... She wailed in frustration at his suggestions, and tried to press herself against him, feeling his warm, stiffening organ between them - a maddening torment.

She let him draw her hand to it, and gripped his flesh tightly in her fist, the rock hardness of it making her mouth water and her heart beat faster.

"I want...a cock in my ass and a cock in my cunny... I want to feel you both using me, I want your seed dripping from me, from both holes..."

Abby looked down at the throbbing meat in her hand, and murmured, "I know it is wrong - I know it is...." She drew a deep breath and let it out, half a sob, "But I - I need to feel it again, please - and teach me to pleasure you in return?"

She knelt at his feet, head down, hands clasped around his cock, as if in deep prayer.

 

[Rockingham]

"Confession is never wrong, my angel," Michael soothed her, his hands moving through her hair, keeping her, petting her. Such loyalty and devotion on his face. He smiled upon her, proud of her. She had performed a trick, and now would get her reward.

"You tell the truth, for that God will reward you. We... we will reward you."

He was blurring the line now, the distinction between God and himself. And was there a real line? Michael did not know, it would depend... on who his real father was, just how far up his power could reach.

Right now, with her between his legs, her eyes hungering for his cock, it did not matter.

He brought her down to his cock, letting it brush against her lips, letting her feel its warmth and salty taste on just the hint of her tongue.

"You have convinced me, but you must also convince the Reverand. He has to know this is what you want, what you need."

He played with his cock against her lips, letting her touch but nothing more. He had to grip her hair, keeping it just out of reach. The total submission nearly uncontrollable for him.

"Ask him, beg him to do what you want. And then... then we will both devour you as you wish, My angel."

He let go of her hair, his cock sliding with the greatest of ease into her waiting mouth.

 

[stubborn wench]

Abigail was so confused......confession of her sins, and her sinful cravings was right - but now she was being encouraged to commit them again, to embrace her sin - God would reward her for it, this man said. She didn't understand, but her desire consumed her, and it didn't matter...he stroked her hair so gently, and was urging her to divulge her darkest thoughts.

She felt him guiding her face down into his lap, and she gasped, eager to be allowed to taste him, as she had tasted the Reverend's organ - but he kept her just hovering above it, able to feel the warm, thick head brushing her lips. She licked her lips and she could just barely taste him.

Abby tried to listen - it was important for her to understand him and do as he asked...and he was telling her she had done well, and convinced him of her need, but that she must also sway the Reverend. He bobbed her head teasingly against his cock, so that her lips parted gently each time, over the tip of it, but not nearly enough to engulf his shaft. She moaned softly - she didn't want to complain, but he must know how eager she was..

He murmured to her again, telling her she must beg the Reverend to give her what she craved....and promised that they would, if she was in earnest.

And without warning, he let go, and she rushed forward to take his whole length into her throat, moaning again, much more loudly, as she let her tongue caress his shaft. Ah God this was heaven....

She would not let him go, now that she had him - but she must still beg the Reverend for his attention. Abby hesitated only a moment before getting to her knees, spreading her legs and arching her back in Smythe's direction. With her sex so exposed, it was an invitation in any language.

In this position, she wanted badly to reach between her legs again, try to inflame that wild passion once more - but she had not been given permission. She let the hunger take over her body, instead, driving herself deep on the stranger's cock, and writhing like a whore on the stone floor, trying to entice the Reverend.

 

[flithymind]

Smythe found himself nodding along sagely to his Minister's words, for surely he was a Minister of God.

His words seemed to slice through Abigail like a thousands knives, bringing her to her knees both literally and metaphorically - and soon, she was begging, begging for more. More use and abuse of her body, to drive these evil, wanton desires from her.

She submitted so easily. In moments she was writing before him, begging for him to use her - but he did not sucumb... not so easily as Smythe had himself, when presented with this harlot's body. He felt a flush of shame, of possible recrimination. But the Minister went on, his words flashing through her, she flinched and shook with each sentence, as he drew more words from her - more torrents of filth about how she wanted her body used "seed dripping from both holes" and the like. Smythe felt his own twist of shame and disgust at this confession and his own shame at his own arrousal from her words.

And then she was on her knees, worshiping at the altar of his cock - for that was what it looked like. She clung to it so fervently and kneeling before it, almost prayed to his member - before taking it in her warm, wet mouth... Smythe felt himself stiffen further at the recent memory of her act on him - he watched, fascinated.

And yet still this Minster was not sated - he focussed on, coaxing her to beg to him, to the Reverend Smythe also - for her to plead for him to use her.

And yet, she seemed so drawn into her task of 'prayer' at his cock, she was speechless - again, literally and metaphorically as her mouth was filled with cock.

But her body - oh her body cried out in it's own way. She writhed like the wanton whore she is, her body bucking back towards him, spreading herself, almost beckoning him with her raw, puffy sex - displaying it for him to use.

He stared at her glistening slit, so recently vacated by himself - and the winking 'star' of her backside, that she had begged to be used and Smythe was almost upon her in an instant - so strong was his desire.

But he had learned - he must learn from this Minister. Focus. At all times.

He crawled to the cock-sucking wench and, drawing his member from his breeches, he taunted her with it, prodding gently at her buttocks and her puffy outer lips.

"I cannot hear your confession girl." he said, cooly.

 

[poohlive]

The water was more than filthy, as Ned leaned down against Amber, washing her out, his hands so soft and gentle. They were nothing like the hands on her before, they were caring and loving. These were the hands a husband would use with his wife, on their wedding bed.

He changed out the water, getting it nice and fresh from the well. A fire had been made, and soon there was hot water as well, relaxing them both, enticing them further.

"Amber..." His voice careful and low. He spoke like a man who had sinned, and was now asking forgiveness.

"You can tell me to stop whenever you wish," He said, leaning in against her in the tub, his hands over hers, his body pressing in. His lips brushed against her own, red and rosey, perfect. Kissable lips, and he did kiss her, slow and sensual.

A kiss, not too hard, but none too soft either. The kiss of a man in love, waiting, trying to see where it would take him. His hands moved up and down her arms, going no further, no further until he knew this is what she desired, what she wanted.

 

[stubborn wench]

Abby could sense the Reverend's movements behind her as she bobbed eagerly on the stranger's cock - he was close, but he seemed hesitant. She pressed her palms to the floor, lowering her upper body as far as she could without missing a stroke, and thrusting her hips up, enticingly.

It was a shock, to feel his stiff organ against her bare ass - stirring unpleasant memories - but she quickly recovered, and moaned through her nose as her saliva dripped from her chin, coating the stranger's cock. She felt the Reverend probing tentatively, and she spread her thighs wider, hoping to encourage him...but then felt him running the tip of his cock along her slick pussy lips, and was surprised to realize - he was teasing her!

Redoubling her efforts, rolling her eyes up to look at the man who held her head in his lap, she began to rock her hips back, trying to catch the Reverend and drive him into her - but he was clever, he kept away, only making her the more frustrated.

And then he reminded her quietly that he had not heard her confession yet, and Abigail choked on the cock in her mouth, trying to tell the Reverend of her desires...finally, the effort made her gag, and she turned her face away, retching, gasping, drooling helplessly.

But planting a death grip on the stranger, she turned to look at Smythe and croaked, "Reverend, please - don't taunt me with my wicked desires...drive this evil out of me, please!"

 

[Rockingham]

He enjoyed her warm mouth on him, pleasing him, sucking him, worshipping him to no end. Everything she did was in worship, how she kneeled, how her soft hands cradled his cock, how her mouth was so gentle, so pleasing. Even the small groans that escaped her were silent prayers, going only to his ears.

The best part is when she choked though, when she gagged and had to release his cock. He did not know why, but it pleased him, even moreso than her wonderful mouth on him. They must do it again, he would choke her, his cock brutal, his actions more forceful.

After though, after she became his and his alone.

"No, sweet angel, that is not how we ask. You are not doing very well. You asked me very nicely, do you not remember angel?"

He slapped her, hard across the face. His hand leaving a mark on her, the only mark he had made so far. Nearly flawless skin, and now it showed his own mark. How interesting. That too pleased him, to see his own mark on another, to see her willingly accept it.

He was learning many new things with this one.

"You belong to us now, and when you ask permission, you do so with respect."

He grabbed her hair, pulling it back, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were fiery red, showing his fury. He was not mad though, no... at best he was annoyed with her antics.

In a single move he pushed her around, so she faced the now man of cloth who had teased her so.

"You face him, you kneel before him, legs slightly parted," He slipped a hand between her thighs, pushing them apart, forcing her cunt open, just so the man of cloth could see.

"You kneel, your hands at your side, your head down," He forced it down, grabbing her hair like a bridle, like reins on a dumb animal who did not understand. That is ok though, he will teach her. He will teach her everything she needed to know.

"You do not look at him. You only look at his feet, his shoes. Then, you give him proper address. Call him Father. I am Master, he is Father. That is how you will address us from now on. You call him Father, and you ask him very nicely to tear your cunt open, use your ass, and make a fucking whore out of you..."

Michael let go of her, slowly, his hands gentle whispers along her back, his breath hot and heavy on her neck. At once the forcefulness of him gone, all that remained was his passioned heat of before.

"You do want salvation, do you not? To seek God? God demands respect. Remember the first commandment. I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other Gods before me. It is a commandment for respect, God is first and foremost. Do you understand, sweet angel?"

 

[stubborn wench]

She turned at the sound of the stranger's voice, low and disappointed, and her heart sank a little - she wanted to do as he asked, she was trying, but -

**CRACK**

His hand came down across her face, and she shrieked in pain and fright, first feeling the sting, then the burn as the blood rushed to her cheek. She dropped his cock to cover the spot with her hand, feeling the heat of the bruise forming under her fingertips.

He had her full attention, now. Abigail stared at him with the wide eyes of an animal, blinking back tears of shame.

She winced as he clenched a fistful of her hair and jerked her head back further, so that she could not look away, and she could feel her body trembling uncontrollably. Bad enough to disappoint him, but to anger him....was terrible.

Whimpering as he pushed her into the proper position before the Reverend, bleating out when his hand moved roughly between her legs, spreading them wide, she went limp and let him pose her as he wished. Even when he pushed her face down until her nose scraped the cold stone floor, she did not resist. Though she shook with fear, a small part of her was strangely calm, even comforted by all this.

She could see only the grey stones and the tips of the Reverend's shoes, and the stranger's voice rang in her ears as he instructed her on how to address the men properly. Again, Abby felt a strange resignation, as she listened to his words - as if she had been sinking, sinking, and had only now reached the bottom. There was no place to go, and no use fighting - only one thing was expected of her now, and that was to drown.

She could do that.

As he removed his hands, gently trailing his fingers across her flesh in promise of sweeter things to come, Abigail did not rise from her position. She shuddered slightly as he spoke again, quoting scripture, you shall have no other Gods before me - but then she was still again.

She was not sure, anymore, how God looked upon her and the acts she committed - could not be sure if she would be saved or condemned....but she understood well enough that these men were her world, at the moment. She must remember that, and show them the respect they demanded.

Her lips were so near the stone that she could feel her breath against her face as she spoke - quietly, but clearly. "Thank you, Master."

Her cheek still throbbed where he had struck her, but she concentrated on pleasing the Reverend with her entreaty. Keeping her eyes down, she slunk along the floor - a bit clumsily, without her arms for balance - until her lips were pressed to the Reverend's shoe.

"Father," she murmured humbly. "If it pleases you at all, Father - would you use my unworthy body for your pleasure. I beg you to please...tear open my filthy cunny, until I am of no use to any man.. Or, if you will not - perhaps you would consider my virgin ass? I long to bleed for you, sir...I would learn to be the whore of your darkest dreams, if you would deign to teach me."

Abby did not look up. She pressed her lips to the cold floor and listened to her heart pounding in her ears. Would they be pleased?

 

[flithymind]

Every vein in Smythe's body felt like it was set to burst. Blood thundered through his veins like a storm-swollen river.

The loud *crack* of that slap to her disrespectful face had sent an electric jolt through him. The power, the control, the respect... but most of all the power of this man. He had this whore in the palm of his hand, in so many ways, and she was totally submissive to his demands, commands and entreaties... every word hung upon, devoured, adhered to. Total respect. Total power. It was exhilerating to watch. To watch and to learn.

He watched, smirking as she turned herself towards him, crawling almost on her belly to beg him - as she was told.

And she did. She proferred herself, cheaply - as she was worth. Begging him to use her cunny, to tear it... to rape her virgin arse. Smythe felt that tingle of electric power again as he sneered down at her, looking her over like a cut of meat from the butcher, smirking over her back at the man who had prostrated her so effortlessly.

His smirk turned to a smile as he looked down at her again, reaching down to gently touch her reddened face... his fingers trailing up her cheek, to her hair... before he took a fistful of her locks, lifting her head, steering her around like a cart-horse. And he pushed her face towards this other man's jutting manhood - she would know what was expected of her.

And there, on all fours, her face resting on his cock and balls, her arse and cunt woefully exposed to him, Smythe slapped her arse, playfully at first... then harder... and harder. Each slap ringing, echoing around the cell.

"I will teach you girl." he hissed, "I will teach you proper respect." he added, his open palm cracking off the pale skin of her buttocks. "Worship at your Master's manhood - praise it, lavish your praise and gratitude unto him." and with that, he started to probe his cock, as hard as it had ever been, as he jabbed it at her cunt, only letting the swollen head stab into her.

 

[stubborn wench]

Abby dared to hope that she might have done well, as she felt the Reverend's fingers, unexpected and gentle, against her cheek. She didn't dare look up at him, but she felt a measure of relief...it seemed he was pleased.

When his fingers closed in her hair and jerked her around to face the stranger, she could not help but voice a low sob of despair - would they pass her between them, like a plaything, until she was irreparably broken and useless?

He pushed her face into the stranger's lap, into the velvety skin of his sac, and she kept her eyes cast down - but the Reverend remained near, and she wondered if he would accept her terrible offer.

She yelped in surprise as his first stinging blow fell on her bare ass, but quickly stifled her cries, though the slaps grew fierce. His voice was so unlike his usual, calmly authoritative tones, that she was afraid of what she might have helped to unleash in the man. She winced and pressed her face further into the stranger's crotch, wishing she could just disappear, as he ordered her to show her gratitude in an appropriate manner.

"Yes, Father," she murmured - her voice lost between the slaps echoing in the small stone room. Nuzzling at first, she soon fell to kissing the stranger's balls and cock, darting her tongue here and there, first teasing, then lavishing him with long, wet licks. She began to settle again into the task before her, and so the Reverend's jabs came as a shock. A shaky gasp interrupted her ministrations as she felt the Reverend's thick cock plunge into her, and she began to roll her hips back to accommodate the length of him - but he delved no further.

She was at a loss, as to how to pleasure him, if he wanted no more of her...unnerved by the feeling of his swollen knob penetrating her only a little, she turned her attention back to the stranger, taking the tip of his cock hesitantly between her lips. Abigail had thought that all men wanted to thrust deeply, into whatever orifice suited them. Perhaps she was mistaken - she could not assume she knew what these men wanted of her..

 

[Rockingham]

"You are doing so well, my angel. I could not be prouder of you... look at you, look how free you are."

He had to move her hair, toss it to the side as he watched her in a hungry state. She licked and sucked as well she could, and it all felt good... it did, but it did not feel great. To him, it was the smallest of stimulants, it was boring, it was done before.

They needed something new.

"Some things God does that you do not understand, but you must trust him. Put your faith in him, in me, and all will be well, do you understand?"

His hands were soft, washing over her skin with a tender caress. They gripped her hair though, pulling her down upon his cock, further, and further.

He pulled until he felt the back of her throat, until he felt her start to struggle. Then, he smiled, then he began to enjoy it. It pulled her down, spearing into her small little throat, his cock alive, twitching, making her take all of it.

The head pressed down into her throat, it opened up to him, squeezing tight around him. Her whole mouth seemed afire like this, her tongue wild on the underside of his cock. Yes, her struggle now, to feel her gag, to feel that vise grip on his cock.

He only released because he knew she needed to breath, and he knew he was not done with her. He let go, let her push off of him, watching as she struggled, as wonderful long tendrils of saliva strung from her mouth to his hot red cock, standing at full attention now.

"You do so well, My angel. But now it is your turn, do it again, without me having to guide you. Have faith in Me... and Me alone."

 

[Britwitch]

Amber sighed as Ned replaced the dingy water with fresh, it's warmth further soothing her aching body and muscles.

"Amber..."

At first, she did not recognise the voice speaking to her but she looked up through eyes half open with exhaustion from her ordeal and relaxation from the warm, steaming water enveloping her and saw Ned looking down at her with concern and guilt.

"You can tell me to stop whenever you wish,"

"Stop what...?" Amber murmured in confusion before he leant against her, his lips meeting hers gently...almost lovingly, his tongue stroking her lips, caressing them. His hands resting on top of her own on the sides of the trough, running up and down her forearms as the kiss continued.
She could feel Avalon's body behind her and now, Ned's body infront of her.
Unsure of what to do, her mind screaming for him to get away, he who had brought all of this upon her and yet another part of her sinking into the kiss, there was such affection and desire in the kiss, almost a sense of completion as she tentatively returned it. Her lips parting slightly as Ned drew nearer.
The warm water, the feel of Ned's mouth against hers, of Avalon's breasts against her back...all combining to send Amber into an almost dreamlike state...a dream taking her away from the water trough and the barn...away from everything...

 

[stubborn wench]

Did she feel free? She couldn't tell...she felt she must please these men, to save herself - but...she felt that she wanted to, as well. Was that freedom?

The stranger - her Master's hands were cool against her warm cheek, and Abigail felt comforted by his words. Trust in God, and so trust in him...yes, she wanted to have faith...

Her eyes widened as he began pushing her down into his crotch, forcing himself gradually deeper into her throat. The urge to panic rose, but she told herself that this may well be a test of her faith in him... The tip of his cock nudged the very back of her throat and she fought the instinct to pull away - relieved that he helped her, by holding her still.

He pushed even further, and she felt her throat convulsing around him, trying to gag or swallow, aching around the hard, thick knob lodged in her throat. She was drooling helplessly, she could feel it running down her chin as she choked on him. And then for a moment he filled her throat completely, and real panic set in as her air was cut off. She rolled her wide eyes to look up at him, a silent plea - would he let her die like this? But she did not struggle - she fought only to keep her lips wrapped around him so that she would not drool on him. Was this faith?

She nearly fell when he released her, coughing and retching at the sudden emptiness in her battered throat, her eyes running with tears. But his voice was so soothing, his praise lifted her, and she only wanted to please him again.

When she'd caught her breath, Abby crawled to him again, croaking, "Thank you, Master."

It was more difficult, to take him into her mouth now, knowing that she must repeat the gesture - but without his help, without his strength to guide her - was she strong enough to do it alone? A small whimper escaped her as she thought of his disappointment, should she fail. She must believe..

She took him slowly - he was so patient with her - wetting the length of him and caressing him with her bruised lips. Feeling her throat lock up in protest - aye, the flesh was so weak.. Plunging herself deeper and deeper, until she could feel the tip of his cock at the back of her throat. She would not hesitate - fear was the mark of those who had lost all hope - she drove him deep, his flesh filling her throat. Fighting the reflexive urge to vomit, easing him further still, squeezing her eyes closed against the tears as she held him there, her throat convulsing around him - and pushing him deeper still, until it seemed she could feel him down into her neck, bobbing just a little, then holding still.

And she held there, the need to breathe becoming a desperate throb in her skull, blotting out the light as she struggled to look up at him, making revolting sounds as she fought with the urge to retch and retch again... She would hold him there until he told her to release him.

 

[flithymind]

Smythe watched, fascinated as He guided her so expertly. And she complied as if it were her own, dearest wish.

He could barely tear his eyes away as he watched her struggle to accomodate His length inside her mouth - but accomodate it she did. A slight startled gasp espaped his lips as he saw the nudge and swell of His cock inside her throat. She gagged and struggled slightly, but barely at all considering and then, mere moments later she was repeating the act of her own valition - totally drawn into this man's powers of persuasion - giving herself willingly, mind, soul and body, as she wretched and hacked down his pole again.

It was fascinating.

As her body twitched, Smythe felt her buck against his now ram-rod stiff girth. He was still pressed against her pouty, used, soiled outer lips and every flinch of her body made her pussy nudge and push against him - though he seemed nearly forgotten to her as she struggled to encapsulate that cock in her throat again.

He would see to it that he did not forget her.

Nudging his swollen, aching cock-head against her pussy lips again, her stirried her flesh with his stiff weapon, feeling her juices and the mix of his own still oozing from her slit greasing the large mushroom head of his length.

He jabbed it into her, barely an inch or so, but enough to make he remember he duty to please him too. He smirked as she bucked and flinched even more - but even less so able to struggle for fear of choking.

And he withdrew... easing his cock-head out of her with an almost audible 'pop' as her cunt tried to grip at him.

Grabbing her arse to steady himself, and still her struggles, he placed his cock-head at the entrance to her puckered little arse hole. Grinning and then grunting with the effort as he pushed... pushed forwards against her resistant muscles; forcing his way into her tightest hole... as it finally gave way slightly, his large bell-end bursting into her back passage, drawing a triumphant grunt of pleasure from him.

 

[Rockingham]

The sight of her, dirty, willing, submissive swept him up in the moment. It felt soo right, so powerful not to do anything at all, to just watch her and her actions, taking him with such deep will and precision.

What would she do, wait down on his cock, impale herself with him. She could not breathe, but she did not want to anymore. His cock was more important to her than air.

What a wonderful compliment. In such a short time, to know this thing found his cock more desirable than filling her own lungs with air. What an interesting creature, were there more like her? More so willing and reliable?

Not like his own mother. She was not this way, she would never have been this loyal, or accomidating. No, this wasn't the work of his mother, this was the work of someone else, someone better.

His mother...

He gripped the side of head, his hands shaking, grabbing, scratching, drawing blood. He forced her down deeper, taking it into her mouth, pulling it down, to fuck her stomache. He wanted to fuck her stomache, his cock to be coated with her intestinal juices, he wanted to shoot cum deep into her fucking bowels.

He only let her up because he felt a need to hear her voie once more, a need to have her speak of more submission. If it were not for that, he would have killed her, blocked her passed of air forever, making her squeal and convulse on his cock until her struggles got weaker and weaker.

"Do you see what Father is doing to you? How he has so pleasently raped your ass? Look back," He forced her head around, forced her body to twist, watching the man of cloth's cock slide down into her small puckered asshole, those cheeks spread wide.

"You should thank him, should you not? Thank him and tell him how grateful you are. Do not be ungrateful... my little angel. Do not make us feel that we are unwanted."

He licked the side of her cheek, where some blood had fallen. Her blood tasted so sweet, so simple. He began to lick at her wound, trying to get more out of it.