Witch Hunt

[poohlive]

"You're right," Ned said, as he pressed against her hymen, as he felt that most untouched of secrets push back against his invading cock. It felt so good, so wonderful, the build up of pressure, the tightness of her cunt as his cock invaded it.

Ned dissapointed that her juices did not flow. The tightness seemed only amplified by how hard it was to press inside, how much she fought him.

"I was not your husband, and I am sorry I ever tried to help you. You are a witch. I know it now, and soon... I will make you into a fucking whore."

He pressed hard, the sudden break, the collapse, her whole body tightening as he pushed deep inside of her. He found the sheath on his entire cock, covering him, coating him. A mixture of fluids oozed out from around his cock.

The men cheered, screamed, hollered their enthusiasm. Ned only felt relief, buried in her once more, the sweetness of her cunt surrounding him, keeping him warm and safe.

"Come on, scream for me, you fucking whore," Ned said, as he slapped her ass, drawing back to impale her once more. It was easier now, her maiden blood flowed around him, letting his cock slide into her with almost no force at all.

 

[Rockingham]

It wasn't until he saw her unconscious at his side that he realized what Michael had done to her. She looked bruised and battered, fucked and raped, taken beyond her limits, and still quivering with excitement.

Michael had found his hate for women in this one. A hate that would grow and continue to feed his lust.

He picked her up, his strong arms coming to hold her next to him, carry her into the nearest cell.

Sasha sat there, laid there in the bed, soft, warm comfortable. He hated her for that, hated her for sleeping while his play thing lay near death.

"Get up, you fucking cunt," He growled, pulling her by her hair, yanking her away. He set his sweet Ambrosia to lay on the bed, her limbs falling almost like silk as it slid to the floor.

"Make yourself useful. Get towels and water. I can make you look this way, I can make what I did to her look like a love bite compared to what I do with you. Do not tempt me, Sasha. Not today."

He kissed the bruises on her body, suckled at her wounds that still leaked blood. There was a wash cloth in the room, a soft one, bright red when Avalon used it to clean Sasha.

Now, he pressed it against her, loving, gentle. He would not leave her side.

The wounds would heal, slowly but surely. He wanted them to heal, he wished they did so. For no other reason they would. Had he wanted her to lay open, bleed, to ooze out pus and gangrenous black blood, she would have.

No, she would heal. The pain lingers, especially in her sex, even moreso for her ass. The sharp intake, her bloated and opened hole from behind still pouring the mixture of blood and cum down onto the bed.

"You did so well, sweet Ambrosia. You took it soo well. I never should have doubted your strength, your fire. I knew you would be mine. And I am still here, My pet. I am still by your side, licking your wounds."

Michael was gone. He left as soon as he finished depositing his seed inside of her. He did not know where Michael went. To explore, to play, to find other mates.

Somewhere, the screaming continued, the pain and horror kept stalking at the corridors, and the son of the devil waited patiently for his next victim.

As for him, he was right where he should be, by Ambrosia's side.

 

[flithymind]

Smythe groaned with aching pleasure. Oh this girl was good - the Devil truly had given her the gift of pleasure to tempt men - but he was not tempted, no... he was winning, HE was using her - yes! he convinced himself.

He watched, mesmerised as Abi slid down his length again, effortlessly his cock bumping the back of her throat, making him shudder. But then she stopped, pushing back against his hand with determined resolution. His cock plopped for her mouth and he groaned his disappointment.

She looked at him, wild again with the animal lust that evil put in people.

"Promise me," she hissed with such force it makde Smythe flinch. He bucked at her, trying to force her cock into her mouth again, to quell what ever evil she would spit at him, but her strength was other-worldly, more proof of her Satanic links! "Say you will let me go...I will give thee nasty, Reverend - but first, your promise."

Let her go? He almost laughed at the prospect. Let her go? Where? She was already destined for eternal life in Hell and damnation - where would she go?

She leaned back further, taking her hands from his thighs, moving one hand to her shoulder, pushing her gown over that curve of flesh until it rested under one of her breasts, pushing it up torwards him, the cool air making the skin prickle with goosebumps, her nipple hardening, almost pointing at him accusingly.

She cupped it, jiggling it at him - Smythe was hypnotised by the dancing flesh, wanting to follow those waves with his tongue. Oh! Wicked, wicked temptress! But no, if he chose to ravage her, but not be tempted by her, he had succeeded! Her fingers tips danced where he wished his could, playing over that hardened nipple, making it flicker, seemingly to beckon him, again like a finger.

"Promise," she breathed hoarsely. "Before God - my freedom for your pleasure."

He wanted to laugh again - he could not free her from the evil consuming her. If she wanted freedom in body, so be it. Or if he wanted to misguide her, to complete his task of defiling her, to show her that wicked temptery could not corrupt true goodness - so be it.

He grunted some form of assent and leapt forwards from his haunches, knocking her backwards to the cold floor, his hands clawing at her as his mouth closed around her nipple greedily.

 

[Rockingham]

"Promise," She breathed hoarsely. "Before God - my freedom for your pleasure."

God is not listening, dear sweet angel... but the son of satan, the demon spawn of hell would never refuse such beauty.

Michael stared through the bared windows, looking at a woman who bared her soul, as well as other things to a man of the cloth. A man with his cock out, a lovely layer of saliva covering it.

Had he interrupted something? Were the in the middle, or just beginning? His eyes locked on her immediately, large dark pearls swimming and searching for hers. She had the look of trouble, the look of pleasure.

She had the look of someone he wanted.

The reverand pushed her down, on top of her, clawing at her breasts. Michael leaned further into the window, watching her, watching them both. He caught her, his eyes bared down upon her, like a predator finally catching his prey.

"I promise," He spoke, the words on his lips although no sound came out. A whisper, only for her to hear. As the reverant took her, pleasured himself with her body, he spoke like a gentle breeze against her cheek.

"I promise to give you everything you want, sweet angel. You are too beautiful to belong inside this cage. Someone put you here by mistake, did they not? I promise your freedom. Please this man, let me watch you be a whore for him... let me see you as a filthy follower of sin. Be loyal to me, and my father. And you will be free, sweet angel."

 

[Britwitch]

Amber whimpered and struggled uselessly as Ned tried to force his shaft deeper inside her. Sending out silent prayers to anyone who might be listening, to save her from this ordeal...to prevent the seemingly inevitable from happening...
She knew she had somehow brought this upon herself...not the rape, not the strange frightening ordeal within the cell with Ned and the Stranger...but if she hadn't tried to flee into the woods, she wouldn't have been caught. She had attracted little attention in the village, she might have escaped suspicion long enough to make a proper escape...
But now her fate was in the hands of Ned once more, in the hands of Ned and the 5 strangers surrounding her. Ned's angry, hurt voice suddenly breaking through her thoughts.

"You're right...I was not your husband, and I am sorry I ever tried to help you. You are a witch. I know it now, and soon... I will make you into a fucking whore."

"No...Ned...you can't...you can't do this to me again...!!" Her words ended abruptly as Amber's scream echoed out into the night. A scream full of despair, pain and utter sorrow as she felt her innocence being ripped from her once again.
The whoops and cheers of those watching eventually drowned her scream as she sagged against the workhorse. Feeling the stinging, aching pain as her maidenhood disintegrated around Ned's sex.

"Come on, scream for me, you fucking whore,"

Amber cried out as he slapped her behind, the noise sharp and stinging. Bringing fresh tears to her eyes as she felt Ned's hips begin to move back and forth. Her own blood easing his passage as he thrust into her over and over again. Her cries ringing out with each of his harsh movements, holding tightly to her hips. She cast her eyes around desperately looking for a friendly face, someone who might see how wrong this was...but all she saw were looks of lust, of hunger, of desire, gazes almost of possession.
"Will...w-will no one help me...?" Amber sobbed quietly, the tears making her fiercely blue eyes shine brighter as Ned took her cruelly.

 

[poohlive]

Ned was grunting, rutting against her. His entire body a fluid of muscle and strain, jabbing into her to no end. He had not fucked her like this in her room, for he did not have the leverage, the right stance. Now, he had her in such a way, his feet back, able to plow deep inside her, able to grab her hips and push back and forth.

She took it, only because the workhorse made her take it. A workhorse, he supposed it was a fitting name for her. Amber, a workhorse, being used right now.

"You heard her," Ned said, his claws digging into her hips, bearing down into her, fucking her harder, "She wants help."

One of the guys came up to her, sneering at her, his cock in hand. It was rock hard, throbbing against his fingers as he slowly worked them around his girth.

"I can help you, girly girl."

As Ned slapped her ass, hard, his handprint bright and red on her pale cheek, the large man took the opportunity of her open mouth to plunge his cock deep inside. It throbbed, the salty sweaty taste of man falling onto her tongue.

He began thrusting, grabbing tufts of her hair, and pushing into her just as Ned did. They worked in unison, both of her ends being filled.

"She said she wanted help, guys," Ned laughed, evil revenge of laughter that echoed inthe hollow recesses of the ancient barn. More men came around her. Two grabbed her hands, putting them up to a cock, letting her stroke them.

One moved under her, under the workhorse where there was enough room for him to fondle her breasts. Unlike Ned, when they were making love, this man was mean. He pinched them, sucked on them, bit them to see her skin pulsate red.

They were all helping her... using her to their own ends.

 

[stubborn wench]

She watched his eyes, and was uneasily comforted by the yearning hunger she saw in them as he raked his gaze over her body. But she kept her distance warily - knowing well that men in such a state were like rabid animals. One could attempt to reason with them, if one was quick - but they would say anything to get what they wanted.

She had no choice but to take him at his word. A man of God, she had to believe he would honour his promise - she wanted to believe...

He was on her in a pounce, and she knew their negotiation was finished - but he had said yes, he would help her. She hit the floor hard, losing her wind as he pulled her nightgown down to bare both breasts and fastened his mouth on one hungrily. She stared into the darkness, past him, and as she caught her breath again, uttered a long sigh of relief, oblivious to his frantic clawings. It might have sounded like a sigh of pleasure.

As he wrenched her thin gown up over her hips, she shuddered violently, as if a chill draft had kissed her cheek, and she looked down at him, seeing him, and could not stifle her revulsion. But in nearly the same instant, she was calmed - soothed - confident that he would keep his promise. Knowing that she would have her freedom, this would all be a means to an end.

Exhaling another brief sigh (at the predictible wants of mortal men), she reached for him, gripping his cock again and pulling him down to her, like a lover. "Aye, take me Reverend...take your fill of me," she purred, swallowing hard as she felt the bludgeoning tip of his organ seeking clumsy entry. Clenching her teeth, she drew her knees to her chest and thrust her hips forward, driving him to the hilt at once with a gasp. She was not ready for him, but she wanted to feel the punishing pain - she could almost pretend it was rape.

She clung to him, holding his mouth firmly to her breast. She did not want to see his face just now.

 

[flithymind]

Smythe gorged himself on her breasts and she willingly consented, sighing happily as he devoured her - he scoffed her flesh and scoffed at her laughable pleas for freedom... but oh her breasts, Smythe was consuming them, consumed BY them... they were magnificent. It was easy to see how others, weaker than himself could relent to sins of the flesh, when the flesh was sweet and soft as this.

She gasped again as she grabbed him - he told himself, in surprise at his size. Men of the cloth were often thought of as asexual, so to be confronted by his hardness... and he grinned... he would punish this evil body with it. She wanted it - her desperate grip on his manhood told him so. And as if to confirm it, she steered towards her opening.

"Aye, take me Reverend...take your fill of me," almost purring as his large cockhead bumped against her, making him shudder. She seemed dry, but clenching her teeth like a wild animal, she drew up her knees to her pillowy breast, bucked her hips and shoved his length inside her with almost grainy, aching friction. He groaned loudly in surprise and pleasure as his length shot up inside her. She was achingly tight like this. He gripped her buttocks tightly, lifting her onto him as he impaled her wicked body onto his thrust cock of righteousness. HE was taking her - not her him as she had hoped, the treacherous whore.

She clung to him desperately as he drove himself into her, over and over again - finally feeling her cunt relent, oozing juices over her ramming member, easing it's passage slightly as he plundered her.

She gripped his head, steering it to her flailing breasts as he battered into her and he greedily accepted. Clamping his mouth to the soft flesh, tonguing and biting alternately, red teeth marks rising on her pale flesh - as, squeezing her bottom he slammed into her again and again... and again.

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

"No...Ned...you can't...you can't do this to me again...!!"

The voice, a scream, swam in her head, twisting in her mind... It came from so far away... drifting in on the breeze....

"Come on, scream for me, you fucking whore,"

Another voice, familiar... she knew that voice well...

"Will...w-will no one help me...?"

That was a whisper.. A desperate begging for help... how had she heard that??

Slowly, Avalon... no... He had renamed her... He had claimed her and renamed her... slowly Ambrosia sat up, taking a deep breath. It was dark, but as soon as her eyes focused, she saw Him, at her side, just as He promised He would be. He had not left her alone, even as His son had viciously raped her, He had not left her alone..

That sealed her loyalty to Him.... and deep, deep in her mind she again heard the cry of another, not loyal, not saved... alone... even as she was being raped.. she was alone....

She, herself had been raped, first by a man, the same man, alone... Avalon had been so alone then..... until encountering Him... the Devil Himself, .. He had come to claim her soul. Avalon/Ambrosia had thought herself innocent, had thought herself pure... yet she lay there now, tainted, dirty, foul... the slave of Satan Himself... the Serpent, who even now gazed upon her with red hued eyes...

"Will...w-will no one help me...?"

"Master...." she whispered, "another calls out to You.... Another... Amber... yes Amber... she is alone Master.. and calls to You for salvation"

 

[Britwitch]

"You heard her...She wants help."

Ned's voice was cold and harsh as he increased the rhythm of thrusts, pounding her without a trace of mercy.

"I can help you, girly girl."

Amber screamed as Ned slapped her behind once again, the strange man approaching, his large sex in his hand. Her cheek exploding with hot stinging pain just as her scream was muffled by the stranger's shaft being thrust into her mouth. Amber's nose wrinkling as her tongue was forced to taste the musky, strong taste of the man in her mouth, trying to pull away but the straps and his hand wound painfully into her hair prevented her. He began to slide in and out of her lips, matching his movements with Ned, Amber's body being debased from both ends.

"She said she wanted help, guys,"

Ned was laughing now, his hurt and sorrow replaced with animal lust and hatred. She felt her hands being taken hold of and moved to hold two more hard shafts, she twisted and tried to pull them free but they were held tight. The men using her trembling hands to pleasure themselves while they watched her used completely. Then she yelped, the sound muffled and vibrating around the shaft plunging in and out of her mouth, another had moved beneath her and was now mauling her breasts. Pinching and twisting her sensitive nipples, then biting and sucking hard, hard enough to almost instantly bruise the skin.

Tears ran free and fast down her cheeks as Amber was used beyond her worst nightmares. Feeling as if every inch of her flesh was being touched, groped. Her sex violated harshly over and over again, her maiden blood beginning to run down her her spread thighs, her breasts stinging and aching and her throat gagging as the man at her head used her with the same force as Ned was using on her sex. Groans of pleasure filled the air around her as the men pleasured themselves, words of appreciation to one another, insults and lewd comments thrown to her.

 

[stubborn wench]

In spite of her slut promises, Abigail felt herself going numb as Smythe rode her in his own bucking rhythmn. As when she had endured her master's attentions, she felt her mind drifting, carrying her away from the unpleasantness of the flesh.

She found herself wrestling with unexpected despair...in her heart she was a God-fearing woman, and she wondered now if God would understand. Was not life a precious gift? Should she not try to save herself, regardless of the cost?

Her thoughts were interrupted by his insistent hands on her ass, his teeth pinching her nipples cruelly - and for a brief moment she looked him in the eye, trying to see the man behind this monster. But, consumed by his urges, Smythe seemed as far removed from this scene as she, herself, felt.

She looked away, trying to clear her mind of all troubling thoughts, trying to ignore the slop running down her thighs as he pulled out abruptly to re-position her, turning her onto her knees before driving back in again with a satisfied grunt, befitting such a swine.

If only he would hurry and have done with it! She closed her eyes and thought deliberately of how glad she would be, to leave this place. She would run - she would have to run, she supposed. Smythe was just one man in this mad village, and his word was hardly law. She would have to leave her mother, without sending word...

...

Abigail opened her eyes in confusion, glancing around the dark cell. She could see nothing. After a moment, she closed her eyes again, and her heart began to beat wildly as she confirmed it was no mere daydream. With her eyes closed, a pair of other eyes seemed to float in the darkness before her, blinking calmly of their own accord - too vivid to be her imagination. Besides, there was something vaguely familiar about them - the startling clear blue eyes - she was certain she'd seen them before. She opened her eyes again, fighting the irrational panic that gripped her. But, open or closed, she couldn't shake the horrid feeling that she was being watched.

She braced herself against the hard floor as Smythe slammed into her body with mindless abandon, and thought suddenly of angels. Her flesh went cold, the Reverend's sweat dripping on her. Angels' eyes...perhaps she was being watched.

Abby could not stifle her frightened whimpers as she lowered her head to the floor, burying it in her arms.

 

[poohlive]

Ned would slap her ass, each time he felt her getting used to their assault, accustomed to it. That could never be true, one could never get used to being raped multiple times from multiple angles, but he could feel her grow limp, simply accept her fate. He did not want that.

She had done that too often with him. He saw it now, he did not know why he had been so blind before. Perhaps it was his own love. He wished to love someone so well, he wished to be her lover and accepted as her own. He believed it so much he took every one of her actions as loving and caring.

Another slap. Hard, red, painful. Her ass bored several of his marks, criscrossing on her tender flesh. She would feel it in the morning, she would feel it now, every time she sat down, every time another man fucked her.

The man, at her mouth, grunted, pushing in deeper. Such a hot tight mouth, he could no longer contain himself. He came deep inside of her mouth, filling it up. He could see she wanted to spit it out.

"Nuh huh, girly. You swallow. Swallow whatever anyone gives you," He pinched her nose, his cock still hard, still invading her mouth. To breath she'd have to swallow, to take it.

Others cocks were ready to follow the first. Others wanted at her mouth, her cunt... and her ass. Yes, that would be taken too. Ned was sure of it. And, he wanted to do it. He had used all three of her holes, been the first for all of Amber's sexual exploits, twice inside her used and whored out cunt, and now he wanted the last piece of her womanhood, her last innocence.

It felt soo right.

Another cock replaced the one in her mouth, another replaced Ned as he pulled out. He did not cum in her. No, he was going to wait... he wanted to spill his seed elsewhere.

 

[Rockingham]

Michael slowly opened the door, eyes wandering over the flesh which now touched and fucked each other. He took it in, as he was granted access. The door, normally queaking, normally letting the people inside know someone else was coming, did not make a sound as Michael's hand was upon it.

Not even when it came to a soft stop at the brick wall, completely open.

This man of faith was on top of her now, was claiming her as his own. He watched with fascination at Abigail's willingness. Not her cooperation, not... not exactly. But, there was a willingness. A sense of letting it happen for fate's sake.

It bored him, despite the fucking, despite the heavenly sounds and erotic sights, it bored him.

Michael found her wandering eyes, boring into him, searching for something, anything. He could only oblige, holding her sight to him, making her see him, making her acknowledge his presence.

"Do not fade out, dear angel. You are not like that... you will not just lay back and take it. No... feel it, angel. Feel it, and react."

At once, Michael's breath went to her exposed skin. It poured over her like a fine silk, covering her body. Electric sparks of pleasure rode over her, sending chills up and down her spine. Wherever the man of faith touched, it was accented a thousand times, each thrust was as powerful as ten, fucking her, using inside her, taking her.

He was making her feel the pleasure, even if it was not there, even if he had to create it himself.

"Be a whore for him, angel. Show me what you can do. Make me proud... and I will reward you. I have such wonderful rewards for those who obey."

 

[Rockingham]

"Ambrosia," She looked better, stronger. Her face still so pale though, blood trying to return to her face. He wiped his hand across her, taking a few strands from her eyes. She looked an angel, sweet Ambrosia from him to taste.

"I already tried to help her. She would not accept my gift."

He touched her forehead, and at once she got the knowledge. What he had done to her, what he offered her, how she refused, how she wanted only to save herself. How selfish she had been, how alone. She gave up her only child to be free.

"She would not take a gift such as mine. She wanted to find her own way out of here... and I suppose she has. But, her cries reach out to you, they dote upon your heart. I can see it, I can feel it."

He kissed her, closing her wounds, making her stronger. Everything except her ass. He rid her of Michael's wounds, but not his own. Because, what he did to her was not pain, it was love, affection, it was her loyalty to him. She would be reminded of such love...

"You can go save her though, if you wish? She asked for anyone's help. You could help her. You could show her another way, show her my gift is not soo bad to take. She might accept from you what she can not take from me..."

 

[stubborn wench]

Abby gasped as the man entered her cell, and froze for an instant as she looked into those eyes - those strange blue eyes she'd seen before, but not in this man's face. He was a stranger to her. Not an angel, then - just a man. Why had she thought so quickly of angels?

She turned her head to look back at Smythe, still rutting away - but if he noticed, he was a marvellous actor, pretending he did not.

Looking back up at this man - the door was open, he did not close it behind him - she could not tear her gaze away. And as she stared, it seemed to her that he spoke, for her ears alone.


She listened, and was confused. Feel it? Her brow furrowed as she looked back at him. She wanted it to be over - she didn't want to feel anything, she -

And then her body began to tingle all over, her skin becoming terribly sensitive, Smythe's cock chafing her insides in a violent rhythmn that warmed her, and at once became a sweet, pleasurable ache....she moaned, in spite of herself. She could hardly hear the stranger's words, so consumed by the sensations that spread over her entire body. She forgot him, broke his gaze and knew only the Reverend and his lovely cock inside her.

The friction of his thrusts was a maddening tease, and she began to rock herself backwards in time with his strokes, arching her back, driving him ever deeper, until she could feel his balls slapping lightly against her. Her mind flooded with pleasure at this deep penetration - it felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before...and she realized that she had been moaning aloud all along.

Hissing over her shoulder, "Oh don't stop.." she snaked one hand back between her legs - she knew not what she was seeking, but her hand moved of its own accord, until her fingers found the delicious little throbbing nub that demanded her attention. She began to rub frantically, and the wave of pleasure was so intense that she nearly lost her balance - but she did not stop. She could only gasp and gasp, making no sound, at first. Like a hundred butterflies in her skull, in a frenzy to escape, the pleasure was a desperate thing that rose and rose, and she was slamming herself back against Smythe's hips, crying out hoarsely as she impaled herself on his hard organ again and again.

And at once her orgasm reached its peak, and she knew only blackness and her twitching fingers, and the echo of her screams in the tiny room. Rising to her knees - feeling the Reverend grabbing her hips to stay firmly rooted as he jammed himself back into her, trying to keep up - she pinched the little bud of rosy flesh hard between her fingers and rode wave after wave of violent pleasure and pain... Screaming raggedly - just as she thought it would end, another surge of exquisite, all-consuming bliss caught her, and she was lost again. It would never end - was she dying?

As another moan ripped out of her, she opened her eyes again to see the strange man still standing there, still watching her. With a smile twitching on his lips.

 

[flithymind]

Smythe grunted and snorted greedily as he mauled Abi's breasts but with her lain on the floor, he could not get the leverage he needed to 'punish' her body in the way he felt suitable - besides, she kept looking at him - it was distracting.

He grabbed her hips, rolling her onto her front, then jerking her onto her knees, as he slotted himself back into her forcefully, fucking her like the dog she was - a dog to Satan.

And the sins of the flesh seemed to overtake her too. He felt a thin sheen of ice cold sweat prickle up over her back all at once. He felt a cool breeze brush over them both, evaporating her sheen instantly. She tilted her head back, almost questioningly... making him slow his stroke in concern.

And then her wild, animal evil took over again.

"Don't stop..." she begged, like a common whore - and Smythe redoubled his efforts, ploughing his length into her again and again - seeing in his mind that he was stabbing away at her black, dark core.

She grunted and moaned, loudly, almost continuously - she seemed suddenly insatiable. She started to buck herself back onto his thrusts, driving him deeper and deeper into her. He moaned as pleasure overtook him and, bracing herself against the floor, Abi reached back and started to touch herself...

Smythe's nosed turned up in disgust - what common, whorish trickery was this? Whatever it was, it made her squeal and thrash like a stuck pig, as she impaled herself on him time and time again.

He could feel her inner walls convulse, shuddering down his thick length - he was soon to burst his white seed of good into that black heart... he groaned loudly, drowned out by her repeated cries and shiverings and he almost collapsed over her back as his body juddered from the knees upwards as he emptied himself into her.

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

"You can go save her though, if you wish? She asked for anyone's help. You could help her. You could show her another way, show her my gift is not soo bad to take. She might accept from you what she can not take from me..."

He.... He was giving her another chance, another chance to prove herself, to prepare someone for Him, someone who had already met Him. She could not fail Him this time, she could not...

"I will....Master" she whispered... "I will bring her before You upon her knees, begging for Your touch, for Your gift, for Your salvation... MMMaster" her voice gaining strength ... His kiss... His kiss gave her strength.. lips meeting, soft, so tender... for a Serpent....

It took her only a few more moments of letting herself heal, before she could get to her feet. She remembered the pain, the pain of Michael tearing into her throat, of both Michael and the Serpent taking her, how she collasped, broken, at His feet. The pain was gone now, except for deep within her ass, where He had taken her, taken her then virgin ass...

Ambrosia... He had renamed her, when she became His... Ambrosia... food of the..... of the Serpent....

Ambrosia did not understand all that was happening, what powers had been unleashed... No.. what evil... The holy men had come looking for witches, what had appeared here was something so much worse. Not just witches, and she was not even convinced that there were any real witches here, but instead, the Witch Hunt had awakened a much greater evil, had opened a door into the depths of hell itself...

God help this place... she thought to herself as she, naked, left the presence of the Serpent, following the quiet begging for help, ignoring for the moment another scream, from another voice, so close by. Her intent was on that cry.... "Will...w-will no one help me...?" that sobbing, tearfilled, pleading cry....

They were in the barn.....

Naked, she stepped from the building, the house of horrors that it had become, into the light, the fresh air, the freedom.... Freedom... to run, to get away, to save herself. But that thought never crossed her mind, not anymore... She could never run from Him, there was no place to hide....

She did, however, pause in the sunlight. Yes, the sun was up, altho she had no real idea what time it was.. the sun was still low in the eastern sky, making her think that it was still morning... the warmth felt good on her skin, bringing back some of the color to her cheeks, the pale fading away. Her strength returning with each step the naked girl took...

If one were to look, and there were several sets of eyes, of men not participating in the rape of the moment staring at her, one would see a pretty girl, with now flawless skin, the mark of the Serpent that marred her was deep inside her, carved into her soul, at least for the moment.. she was completely naked and not trying to hide herself, the swell of her breasts, tipped with dark pink nipples, the curve of her hips, the supple flesh of her ass, long chocolate brown hair cascading down to tickle the slight arch of her back, golden eyes, sparkling.. she was a stunning site, naked in the sunlight....

As she drew closer to the barn, she could hear the rutting, the mating, the raping, going on within. Grunts, moans, mostly the men, spewing forth filthy words to Amber.. that was her name... Amber... whom she could hear whimpering in the midst of it all...

 

[Britwitch]

Amber cried out, screaming and yelping every time Ned's hand connected with her behind. Punishing her even further everytime her body began to sag from the sheer forces being exerted upon it. Making her tense and straighten, straining against the straps.

Then fresh disgrace as the man at her head began to buck even more lewdly against her mouth, his grip tightening in her hair as his member twitched and began to flood her mouth with bitter tasted seed. She found herself wanting to vomit, to rid her mouth of the strongly tasting liquid now filling it.

"Nuh huh, girly. You swallow. Swallow whatever anyone gives you,"

The man cruelly pinched her nose, forcing her to swallow to get breath into her lungs. Her eyes watering, fresh tears spilling down her flushed cheeks as he withdrew, only to be immediately replaced by another. Slamming his member into her sore, aching mouth, pulling and tugging roughly at her hair, a torrent of foul words and insults flowing down upon her.

She felt Ned slip from her abused sex to then feel it stretched anew as another man took his place. Ned moved around so he was in her eyeline. His shaft still swollen obscenely as he looked down her. Disgust, anger, hurt...and something that looked like pride shining in his eyes as he watched her young body being taken, used, abused.
Her eyes wide and pleading, begging him to take pity on her and stop this nightmare.
But he didn't, he merely stood, smiling darkly as she was pounded from both ends, over and over again.

 

[stubborn wench]

As he came, the spell was broken - Abby's pleasure shriveled at once as she felt him stiffen behind her, and then begin his twitching spasms, spurting jets of his spend deep inside of her.

She crawled away from him even as he began to relax in the shudders of his denouement, pulling away so that his softened member slid like a wet slug from her body.

Without bothering with modesty, she caught her skirt up about her thighs and clambered to her feet, stumbling past him before he could come to his senses.

The door was still open.

The stranger stood just inside, and she met his eyes with fierce determination. His mild expression did not change, and she knew he would not stop her.

Before she could begin to doubt herself, she made a mad dash for the open door, whining faintly at the nearness of her freedom.

 

[Rockingham]

"I wouldn't... if I were you," He stopped her cold in her tracks. His voice sending icebergs crashing down her spine, creating gooseflesh all over her body. He stoped her, but did not touch her. Simply as she passed he whispered these words in her ear, and her feet stuck to the floor next to him.

Michael moved into the room, cautious, curious, stepping over the now tired man of faith and the puddle of sex and cum on the floor. He sat down on her poor excuse for a bed, lounging, laying back and looking at Abbie as she stood in the doorway, one foot toward freedom, the other firmly planted in hell.

"You see, the owner of this place, the new owner... my father, he has guards set up outside. Men whose sole purpose is to make sure no girls escape. They've already caught one girl..."

Faint screaming could be heard outside, and the lewd rutting and groaning of men. It sounded ancient, foreign... a ritual being performed.

"They will catch you before you step foot inside the forest, and they will fuck every hole you have until they are all leaking blood and cum. And when they are done they will bring you back inside here, and let this humble man of faith have his way with you yet again."

He did not understand this Abigail, she seemed strong at times... but there was too much weakness. She saw this place as hell and only wanted freedom. She would not work for it, only cry and scream and try to find an easy way out.

"So, your plan dear girl, was to have this man of faith rut against you, get off, and then you could leave? Hmmm, but you are accused of being a witch. How could a God fearing man such as myself or the Reverand Smythe let a witch go to tempt and destroy innocent lives?

"I don't know if you are a witch. You have certainly proven yourself to be a whore. He practically raped you, he rutted on top of you, took you with force and you let him. You allowed it, hell you even came didn't you? You came all over a man of the cloth? A slut would do that, she would use herself in such ways, but a witch? I do not know. A witch would try to get out of here as fast as possible before someone found her out, but an innocent? An innocent would want to prove herself...

Michael smiled, devious, looking at her up and down. The cum running from her thighs, the tears in her eyes, and the glow of sex all over her body.

"But I do not know, I am still undecided. How about you, father? You were the one fucking her, using her for your own selfish ends? Please, tell me, is this fucking slut a real witch, or does she just love cock?"

 

[poohlive]

"This is your decision, Amber," He said, looking into her eyes, those still pleading eyes. If only she had been honest with him, if she had trusted him and loved him, he would have loved her back, he would have given her everything.

He did give her everything. A loving trusting man, wonderful orgasms, and someone to cuddle at night. What more could a woman want?

Apparently, seeing her take it from both ends, seeing her getting raped because of her lies and twisted attempts at freedom, she wanted to be a whore.

Ned let the man finishe inside her mouth, making her swallow yet another load before he moved up to her.

"Clean it, clean it of your foul fucking juices. And you should probably use as much saliva as possible. Because once I'm done, I'm gonna go straight to your ass. I'm gonna fuck you hard, Amber. It depends on how hard... however much spit you use."

A dirty little smile came from him as he placed his cock in front of her. He didn't shove it in her mouth though, not like the other guys. They waited for her to cry aloud before taking her in deep. No, he was just going to put it in front of her. If she didn't want him fucking her deep and hard without any lubricant helping her ass, then she didn't have to suck his cock. She could just stare at it, while her own juices... what little there were dried onto him, she could just sit and stare and wait for him to fuck her, burning it into her ass, tearing her open.

No one saw the girl come into the barn, heard her soft foot steps on the hay below them. All were too consumed by the whore being used from all ends. Men making sure her cunt was filled, her tits were being pinched and pulled, and her hands always had a hard cock in them, jacking the guys off, making them cum all over her.

 

[flithymind]

Smythe groaned loudly and then did so again in protest as she peeled herself from his still spurting, dribbling cock. He fell forwards onto his hands, sucking in great lungfuls of air, as she made for the door. He was powerless to stop her, in position to either. He listened to her feet pad across the cold, hard floor and realised, like a fool, he had left the door unlocked.

And then her footsteps stopped - and a voice, a man's voice.

He turned to see her stood beside this man, next to the door - salvation! he had stopped her! He smiled, rapidly tidying his clothes, tucking his deflating manhood away, smiling nervously.

This man strode to the bunk, talking to her calmly, but insistently. His words were forceful but softly spoken - he seemed to know much, much of the wench's witchery and plans.

And then he addressed him:

"But I do not know, I am still undecided. How about you, father? You were the one fucking her, using her for your own selfish ends? Please, tell me, is this fucking slut a real witch, or does she just love cock?"

Smythe stammered for his words, his brain running too quickly for his mouth to keep up. Who was this man? He said his father owned this place, but he did not recognise him. And his words, were so... so... base! But the way he was dressed, how he commanded himself, what he knew - he had addressed him as Father... he was clearly a man of power - and Smythe knew better than to cross them.

"She is a witch!" he blurted. "I was punishing her Sir, showing that her trickery could not overcome the Good Word of the Bible! She tried to trick me with her body so she could escape! I am a man of the cloth, but she still tempted me - it is surely witchcraft!" he protested.

 

[Britwitch]

"This is your decision, Amber,"

Ned's words were cruel and unfeeling. He watched as the man filling her mouth, began to jerk his hips, smashing them against her lips as he too climaxed, forcing her to swallow his seed.
Then Ned moved before her, his swollen shaft before her face.

"Clean it, clean it of your foul fucking juices. And you should probably use as much saliva as possible. Because once I'm done, I'm gonna go straight to your ass. I'm gonna fuck you hard, Amber. It depends on how hard... however much spit you use."

"None of this was my decision!" Amber cried out, her voice shuddering as the man behind her continued to take her sex violently. "You took me in that cell because your loins decided that you should...there was no love there Ned, I've seen men in love...they don't treat women the way you treated me..." Tears spilt unchecked down her cheeks as she took the opportunity to tell Ned the truth, the truth as she saw it...not the warped madness that seemed to be running through his mind. "You wanted me as your own, my feelings were secondary to your urges...and then that Stranger...he gave me a chance to be free and I took it...I'm sorry Ned, I truly am if I've hurt you but I assure you it's nothing compared to the torture you're subjecting me to...!" Her words faded into a yelp as the man powering back and forth behind her slapped her rear hard. "Please Ned...please let me go as you should have done when you found me...you were my friend once...please show me that my friend has not vanished when I need him the most..." Another whimper as the man beneath twisted and pulled her nipples cruelly. "P-please Ned...help me..."

 

[Rockingham]

"Purely witchcraft," He said, repeating the reverand's words. He nodded, looking back over at Abigail, wonderful little Abigail inside the door. Now, didn't it look wonderful, to have the man of cloth turn on her at a moment's notice. He had told her, told her what good a promise from a reverand would be.

She chose not to listen though, she chose her own weak way to get out. She did not realize what strength truly was.

"Tempting a man of the cloth, of all people, in order to escape? I need no further evidence than this. I will hereby charge you as a woman who is practicing witchcraft for the benefit of Satan and all he stands for. you will be punished and raped and sought revenge for all the pain and torture that you have caused. Unless of course..."

his eyes twinkled with devilish delight, "You have anything to say on your behalf? Be quick, girl. This is your hearing to prove yourself or not. I already have one witness against you. Is there anything more to add before I pass judgement?"

 

[Rockingham]

He watched, as his Ambrosia left him. Confidence in his step that he had not seen before. It seemed to send chills through him, how much she wanted this, how determined she was.

Like watching a newfound soldier march bravely off to war. He could provide as much help as she wanted, his blood inside her could do many things. Even the small amount she drank...

Many things.

Then, like a predator who had forgotten its prey, he eyed the woman on the floor. Still battered, still bruised, still as fucking weak as ever.

"So, dear Sasha," He spoke, rising, towering, hovering above her as if a cobra ready to strike, "I heard you wanted to see me. Hmmm, I am here, although I do not know for how long. My time is precious, if you wish to speak... then do so."