Witch Hunt

[flithymind]

She seemed truly grateful and Smythe's mind swam with doubts again.

But then she went on all fours before him, his memory pricking, making his cock stir... her on her knees... he hadn't... but she had made him... she was evil!

He watched her crawl, distrust replacing his doubts - her ragged top bagged open, exposing her hanging breasts. Smythe wanted to look away but he could not... he could not... this was truly evil work.

She scrabbled on the floor for something, probably making more incantations and spells - he sneered, watching her.

"Oh Reverend, it's not too late - please, help me. Let me out of here, please! You can help me, I am a good Christian girl, I swear to you..." she whimpered, disolving into wracked sobs - and his heart melted again.

It truly seemed as if a good soul was trying to fight its way to him - but the evil that had overtaken her was too strong - he must help her!

She peered up at him, her eyes swimming with questions, the poor child!

"Oh yes, Reverend - please, let us pray." she said, suspiciously.

"Oh me..." Smythe sighed... he was truly in a quandry. She seemed to mean well, but had she not done so before, before when she had tricked him into defiling her? And now, her words they seemed so innocent, but each syllable dripped with double meaning, with sarcasm with duplicitousness. If she were over taken by evil, would they not speak these same words of trickery?

How was he to decide? God had to grant him the wisdom to know the difference - but he felt truly deserted now... "Oh Lord..." he mumbled, pleadingly, hoping for assistance.

He looked down at her again, seeking some sign of her possible salvation. Her eyes looked pleading, but the remnants of her shirt still sagged obscenely... he could almost see the whole of her right breast... hanging, heaving with her breaths... the soft delicate skin. Smythe felt himself stiffen in his breeches and as he went to shift himself to relieve the pressure on his manhood he caught himself.

This one was truly lost - she had almost tricked him again!

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

She knew what her orders were, knew what she was supposed to do, but Avalon wavered. Lifting to her feet, leaving Sasha lain, sprawled, naked upon the small bed, her own body as naked as her .. victim?? Was Sasha a victim???.. Avalon stepped to the door of the cell, gently pushing it open, and slipping out. She was not even aware if Sasha saw her, noticed her, or if it registered in the battered girl's mind that the cell was indeed unlocked.

Avalon's mind filled with the sensation of HIM.... she knew who... and what... He was. And as His blood flowed thru her, she became more and more His with each passing moment. And it was HE that was drawing closer.... in the darkness of the dungeon basement.

She heard His voice... Our deal is done, little girl. And I must go, I have others to tempt... they call me. From the darkened shadows their screams yearn to me. In the blood, do you see. Michael has it too, he will learn. I have so much to teach him...so much to teach him."

Who... was Michael? The name made her shiver, the motion racing thru her body despite her attempt to wrap her arms about herself, seeking warmth....

Avalon quickly looked around.. was He speaking to her? No, no, He was not. Her deal was already long since done, the moment she had said yes, the moment her lips felt the cold of His blood, His black blood, flowing thru her. No, He was speaking to another....

As she drew closer to the door that lead into the long hall, Avalon heard another voice....

"Hurry... I do not want to wait another minute."

Ned... she knew that voice anywhere. Who had Ned been raping? That is who He had made the deal with, He, the Stranger, the Serpent... that was what He was, what she saw when she gazed into the depths of those eyes, the Serpent. The Serpent had made a deal with Ned? No, no... she shook her head. Ned was HIS all along. No, it was whoever Ned had been with, after her. Who else was here?

Avalon only knew of Sasha, sweet Sasha, whom she left laying alone in the empty darkness....

Once in the dark, chilled hall, she paused to listen. She heard the soft sounds of someone sobbing, the words let us pray whispering in the shadows. That was a bit further away, she was unsure who that was...

For the moment, He was preoccupied, Avalon could not feel His touch in her mind, in her soul, not as she had only minutes before. She felt a cold so deep inside her, that she almost cried out....

Silence !!! She commanded herself, you need to listen, to hear... He is close... He feeds on fear, pain, confusion, He is close... for this dark place is filled with the most agonizing pain, the most terrifying fear, the most mind twisting confusion, He is growing stronger.....

Avalon's eyes widened, what... what had she done.. allowing Him into her, giving herself, offering herself, submitting to Him. What had she done.

The taste of Sasha clinging to her lips, sweet droplets that she gently licked away with a pass of her pink tongue, now was not so sweet anymore.

Away from Him, Avalon was starting to have doubts, despite the darkness that slithered deep inside her, His black blood, His commanding hold over her.

 

[Rockingham]

"My... my... my... such disrespect."

He stared into the opened cell where Sasha lay. Her lithe form covered in nothing but a smile. The smell of sex wafted to him, and he captured it, like a butterfly in the wind. His nose in the air, tasting, sniffing, taking it in. What a sight it must have been, what fun. To see his Avalon sucking, licking, cleaning off the wounds of another, preparing her for Him.

"She is not prepared."

He moved up to Avalon, who stood in the corridor with lightning speed. One instant in the doorway of Sasha, and in the next He was right upon her, his body caressing her naked flesh. One hand pressed against her hair, so softly, so gently. A Master petting his slave.

"You have failed me, dear sweet Ambrosia. You have been in my care for an hour, and already you wish to dissapoint me. Do you want me disappointed?"

He grabbed her hair hard now, yanking it back, pushing her off balance. With his body pressed against her, she had no choice but to lean back. His hand like a vise in her hair, pulling. His eyes, darkened pools of fire rose up, staring so transfixed into her own.

"Do not disobey me. I will get angry. Do you want to see me angry, do you want to see what I am capable of? Oh such pain, dear Ambrosia. Such pain. What Ned did to you would be a dream next to my rape. But, it would not be rape, would it? For you would give it willingly, even if you bled, even if it meant you would never be whole again."

His blood, afire, black death inside him, reacted with her own. She could feel what he felt, the small part of her drawing, reacting, needing this incessant desire for him, even in this capacity, even in hate.

Michael, walked calmly around the couple. He stared, transfixed. His eyes wafted down his father's prowess, and this servants submissive slender poise. Her body looked exquisite, encouragable.

Michael stopped, staring at her ass, biting his lower lip. He came up to her then, pressing against her. His father on one side, and him on the other.

"Who is she, father?" While Michael spoke to Him, his words were nothing more than whispers on her neck. A sweet caress against her neck. Michael had to pull away her hair to see it, to smell that scent of fear and sex wafting off of her.

"This is property, dear son. She has already made her agreement. My blood flows through her."

Michael's eyes lit up. He let his tongue come out, bold and curious, drawing a single lick from her. He tasted such sweet deliciousness. The arousal, the fear, the pain and pleasure. Such wonderful tastes on his tongue.

"Is she my sister?"

"No son. She is not your equal. No one is your equal. You are above all... she is a play thing."

Michael smiled at that, "I do want to play..."

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

Avalon had not seen, nor heard, not sensed His approach. When His voice slithered into her ear, into her mind, He was there.

"You have failed me, dear sweet Ambrosia. You have been in my care for an hour, and already you wish to dissapoint me. Do you want me disappointed?"

Her mouth opened to respond, but words would not come. His hand, entangling into the long dark mane of her hair, pulling her back, her spine arcing, she again trying to speak, beg, whimper, and again, there was nothing but utter silence. He had taken her voice, quietly ripping it from her as His own whispered, hushed, in her ear. He had taken her voice....

So her screams of pain, of terror, of shame, of despair, of submission, would be silent. It would not due to unduly terrify the other .... guests....

Tears fell from her golden eyes. Shame, humiliation, shone within that gaze... "please" her lips formed the word, but again, silence...

"Do not disobey me. I will get angry. Do you want to see me angry, do you want to see what I am capable of? Oh such pain, dear Ambrosia. Such pain. What Ned did to you would be a dream next to my rape. But, it would not be rape, would it? For you would give it willingly, even if you bled, even if it meant you would never be whole again."

She went limp against Him... She was weak, she knew she was weak, His words spoke the truth. She had given herself to Him, not to save the others, but because she was so weak, so alone, broken from Ned's repeated rapes.... He offered her hope, He offered her salvation, He offered her Himself, by her side, and she had willingly submitted, offered her soul.... He had offered a way out, and she had begged to take it... begged to be His... she had fed from Him, letting His evil inside her, letting His shadow envelope her.

She would never be whole again, only when with Him...

"Master...." the word slipped free, her voice trembling but there, weakened, but understandable... "Serpent".... the word, a name, slithered around Him.. before fading upon her lips..... "Serpent...."


Another .... Avalon's breath caught, He up against her, another, with the same hellish fire that flickered within His eyes, deep, sharp, deadly, blue eyes.

"Who is she, father?"

Avalon's breath hissed in, father?? FATHER????? A whimper escaping her lips as this newcomers breath, heated, moist, danced along the supple curve of her throat as He spoke.... His voice, dripping with venom.... the same as His... Father's... she felt a tingle of fear, so very cold, grip her belly, chilling her skin....

"This is property, dear son. She has already made her agreement. My blood flows through her."

"MMMMaster" she nearly purred, if it were not for the abject terror that was flowing thru her veins right now. Michael... His son.. He had chosen one of the holiest of names, Michael the ArchAngel.... only fitting for the Serpent... "MMMichael" the name clung to her lips, as if wanting possession of them, as if wanting to plunge down her throat and choke her...

Michael's eyes lit up. He let his tongue come out, bold and curious, drawing a single lick from her. He tasted such sweet deliciousness. The arousal, the fear, the pain and pleasure. Such wonderful tastes on his tongue.
"Is she my sister?"

"No son. She is not your equal. No one is your equal. You are above all... she is a play thing."

Michael smiled at that, "I do want to play..."

Both felt Avalon shudder at those words, a begging, pleading, whimper escaping her lips, fading to silence once more...

None would hear her suffer, none would hear her scream, none would hear her flesh being torn, her soul being devoured... Just as none had heard her submit to Him.... giving her life to the Serpent... and now... His son....

 

[Britwitch]

"Avalon."

Amber froze in the doorway as Ned's hand captured her own. Frowning slightly as she looked back at him.
"A-Avalon...? I'm not Avalon..."

"You forgot something,"
Her confusion only grew as Ned handed her an empty bucket, placing it in her hand as he let go.
"The well is right outside. Get some towels and new sheets as well. I want your cell looking beautiful for the honeymoon."

"Honeymoon...?!" Even though he had released her, she hovered in the doorway. Pure mordbid curiosity holding her there. "Ned, what...what are you talking about...I...I think you are confused..."

She watched as he practically skipped towards her scattered belongs, falling to his knees and gleefully collecting them together.

"I had a dream, after we made love the last time, but before he...I had a dream...We were getting married. A man in black gave you away to me. He must have been your father. You and I wed in a meadow, an entire ocean of wildflowers at our feet. I know you love Wildflowers. So, I thought, we could do it. There is a meadow not too far from here, we could get married today. Right now. After we clean your cell, ready it for the honeymoon, for when I come back here, and take you rightfully, as my wife."

"I...I am not your wife Ned...I am not Avalon...I'm Amber..."

"Hurry... I do not want to wait another minute." He giggled, he actually giggled. It was one of the most worrying things she had ever seen. Amber dropped the bucket upon the stone floor as fear once again began to rise sharply within her.

"No...no this can't be happening...!" Amber turned and fled, running down the corridor, hearing voices and sounds from the other cells as she tried desperately to find a way out. Hearing Ned scramble to his feet in pursuit.

 

[Rockingham]

His eyes sparkled as they watched Michael's interest. Yes, in order to teach His son, they must start somewhere. And this one, already broken, already submitted, she would do nicely for Michael's first encounter.

He pressed against her, watching her limp and receptive body now being pinned, forcibly moved against both of them. He still held her hair, like a leash, pulling her up to Him.

"Do not disappoint me again, sweet Ambrosia. There will be no punishments from me. Only darkness, cold darkness, in the deepest parts of hell."

He came to her neck, reaching, feeling, his cheek brushing up against hers. Michael had one side, while He claimed the other.

"Did you know hell is not fire and brimstone? In the darkest recesses, the lowest levels, it is frozen. The frozen expansion of space, held for only those who disobey. Those who were not loyal. I can leave you there, to wander... eternity under your feet, alone, empty. I will take back My gift, sweet Ambrosia. Rip it from you in one..."

He pulled her hair harder, back further. A small tuft was yanked from her scalp, droplets of blood running down her neck.

"... swift stroke."

Michael greedily licked at the blood. It was as if he were there to catch these drops, each one as they made their way down her body. It felt so pleasing, as if each taste of her were different. One held passion, another lust, a third nothing but fear.

His tongue now danced here and there across her flesh, like fire against the blazened sky.

"She certainly is pretty, Father. I love her taste..."

His cock, awakened for the first time, pressed against her. His body shivered, the strength running through him. He did not know why, but he wanted it between her, running across her empty cunt.

He moved it, against her ass, parting her legs under him, still pinning her between the two hard bodies. Two lovers, taking her in the dark, in this empty corridor, where others still played, still screamed out their nightmares.

How delicious.

"Is this your nightmare, little play thing?" Michael asked, his cock against her parted lips. He bucked into her, the full length of his cock running along her sex, touching, deep seated fire reaching out to caress where his cock had kissed her loving flesh.

"Or is it a fantasy? Or... do you not know the difference anymore?"

He licked at her, the taste of more fear and desire.

 

[poohlive]

"But... you forgot the bucket."

What was this silly girl doing? Ned had to get up, grabbing the bucket as he chased after her. The happening in the corridor lost on him, for a moment he wanted to turn, to try and see what occured, but then that darkness hit him once more. And he lowered his head...

A far off look in his eyes. The distance, as if he were trying to look at some far away star.

He brought himself back when he saw his loving Amber run towards the stairs. Amber, not Avalon. He knew now, he knew her name. He did not know her face, could not see it in the confusion, but knew her name. She was his, his betrothed.

"Amber, what is wrong?"

He followed her, running up the stairs, the bucket still held out, in some vain attempt to try and give it to her. He just did not know why she chose to run so fast, so hard?

They burst out into the room together, the door opened, the hallway, and then the front steps. Outside, to freedom. Ned was just behind her, only inches seperating them. His fingers reaching out, glancing against her arm, trying to grab.

And then, he stopped, looking at where she chose to run. The forest.

"Amber, the well is that way," He pointed to the right, between the ancient house and the barn. A well stood in the middle. No, she chose to run straight out. Straight into the forest.

"What are you doing?" And now, for the first time, anger entered into his voice. Before, it was loving confusion, misunderstanding, as Ned was often to do. He could not easily grasp his head around certain concepts.

But now, he thought, for a brief moment, he thought he knew what she was doing.

"As your husband, Amber. I command you to stop. Come back here..." Those words hard, slick, icy on her back. It was not a threat for her to return though, but a plea for her to stop.

The men, the men that had been sent by...

Him, the Serpent, the dark one, clasped in shadows, watching, waiting, patrolling

Men were in the forest, waiting for any woman to escape, waiting to find them, catch them, drag them to the barn and punish them for their crimes.

"Amber... no," He ran after her, harder this time. He could not let that happen. She was his.

HIS!!!

 

[stubborn wench]

The tension was thick in the air between them, and Abby imagined it as a cloying black smoke, filling her lungs with each shallow breath as she waited, watching the Reverend carefully.

He seemed to struggle inwardly with his own demons - troubled expressions warring on his face as he stared at her, inscrutably, and uttered what might have been a prayer.

Her gaze flickered to the closed door behind him. Every second she sat here, in this miserable cell, men might be deciding her fate, convincing themselves of her guilt and relishing the opportunity to smite one of their wicked own.

The Reverend might be her only chance to leave here alive. But was he a holy man, or a lecher?

As she watched, his eyes fell more than once below her neckline, and she realized her nightgown had slipped at a lewd angle. When she looked back at him, he was adjusting his stiffening organ.


Abby pressed her lips together in mingled resolution and despair. Like other men before him, he showed himself to be an animal, led by his lust before any nobler emotions. But she knew well how to seek his favour.

Still on her knees, she reached to cover the hand on his trousers with her own delicate fingers, and cupped his warm bulge firmly through the cloth. Looking up at him, she could feel the fear showing on her face - a wideness about the eyes that she could not calm. But she would use it - let him think she was wild for him..

She worked swiftly to loose his cock, before some pang of conscience could pierce him, but as she gripped the meat of him, she murmured, "You will help me, won't you, Reverend? I could be so very grateful, sir..."

Letting her lips brush the engorged tip of his raging hard-on as she whispered, "We could pray together every day..." As she wrapped her wet lips around him, she could feel her heart knocking in her chest, threatening to burst.

If her instincts were not correct, this was a dangerous play.

 

[Mystical Avalon]

Sasha lay sated on the floor. She felt the emptyness again and lay quiet. She felt the air as she turned to see the open cell door. She did not try to get up nor run. She felt something was coming for her and did not feel the need.

She only wanted to feel the warmth again on her skin. She longed for a caring touch such as Avalon had spared her. She wept tears of joy at the thoughts of continuing the acts rained upon her.

Fear welled inside her as the aloneness crept inside and over her body. Voices, maybe she thought, outside in the corridoor but no light permeated for her to see. Sounds, rustlings, restless spirits seeking satisfation. She did not know. Closing her eyes, she drifted again into a coma like sleep.

 

[flithymind]

Smythe watched, resignedly as her eyes flickered to the door quickly. He shook his head - she had almost tricked him again. She wanted to manipulate him, just so she could escape. He sighed, heavily.

He was unsurprised when she pressed her lips together tightly, surely a mocking kiss - and then as he tried to hide the weakness of his flesh with his hand, her hand covered his.

She made no effort to cover the sagging cowl of her blouse, allowing her breasts to hang in his view, and she edged his hand aside, her own cool fingers covering the heat radiating from his crotch. Ah! His flesh was so weak! Her eyes went wild - animal lust was surely taking her over, she was utterly lost.

His mind swam for the poor child, the poor lost soul - but he snapped too again as her hand deftly eased him from his cloth restraint, his manhood bobbing free into the cool air of the cell. She gripped him hard, making him gasp and throb. And she murmured: "You will help me, won't you, Reverend? I could be so very grateful, sir..." and her lips brushed the engorged tip of his raging hard-on, sending a shiver through the base of his spine. He must resist!

She whispered, "We could pray together every day..." and with that, wrapped her wet lips around him.

He groaned, despite himself. Her mouth did feel exquisite, and those hanging breasts like two ripe, tempting fruit...

The fruit of the forbidden tree! This was original sin! She was a wicked, wicked temptress! He almost laughed at his own weakness and then he felt flushed with anger. The Devil must think him a very weak man indeed to fall for the same wickedness twice in the same night. As her lips teased the end of his pulsing manhood, he sneered - so... they thought he was a weak man, did they? So easily did he bend to their most base sins.

He would show them. He had his own punishment in mind for this wench. If she was a truly lost soul, she had no place in the eyes of God. He could ravage her body, to mock her soul... to show them his "weakness". Ha! Then who was the one being tricked?

He gripped the back of her head, taking a fistful of her hair. "That's it wench." he mocked. "You show me your nasty, nasty deeds. Purge your soul on my holy manhood..." and he grunted, forcing her mouth on to him.

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

Avalon, Michael, and the Serpent

Avalon no longer heard any of the others, she did not hear Amber escape, nor did she hear Ned pursue, she did not hear Smythe.. The only thing her mind percieved was His sharp breathing in her ear, and the feel of Michael's body against her.

"Do not disappoint me again, sweet Ambrosia. There will be no punishments from me. Only darkness, cold darkness, in the deepest parts of hell."

Avalon's eyes closed, almost involuntarily.. she could feel the penetrating cold, despite being caught between 2 bodies.. the chill was painful.. creeping over her soul.. feeling it struggle, writhe, scream, and die... alone, sooo completely alone, in the utter darkness beyond the Pits of Hell....

"no... no.. please... " she whimpered, He allowing her voice to be heard, weak, trembling....

He nuzzled into her neck, along the supple curve of her throat, her bare throat... Would He mark her? The thought made her shudder, as she felt His cheek, feeling as if He needed a shave... Him? Shave? Avalon realized that she was in danger of breaking, her mind snapping, and she fought to keep those twisting thoughts under control...

"Did you know hell is not fire and brimstone? In the darkest recesses, the lowest levels, it is frozen. The frozen expansion of space, held for only those who disobey. Those who were not loyal. I can leave you there, to wander... eternity under your feet, alone, empty. I will take back My gift, sweet Ambrosia. Rip it from you in one..."

His fingers tightened in her hair... her lips parting as she cries out, a low, mournful sound... the sound of one dying... slowly dying.... He viciously yanking her head back, pulling hair free, small droplets of blood loosening, thin trails of warm, red, sweet, fear tainted blood lacing down her scalp, tracing the curve of that bare throat...

"... swift stroke."

"nooo... please Master... don't rip me apart that way... pppplease"

Avalon knew her mind indeed would snap if He drew back from her, leaving her in the frozen abyss of lonliness.. she would not have to go to Hell, she would be living within it for every day for the rest of her miserable life, only to know her soul would simply suffer once that life had ended...

Michael's tongue lashed hungrily over her skin, tasting the slight spilling of her blood, tasting her fear, her despair, her.... submission... the sensation was like searing fire burning into her flesh, she wanted to scream, the burning heat racing thru her, flickering pain melting into undeniable pleasure.

Michael moved around the front of her, as her Master... the Serpent... that was all she would know Him by... the Serpent... positioned Himself behind her. As she is pulled back into Him, she can feel the hardness of Him, aroused, throbbing, heated... A knee slipped between her thighs, from behind, parting them, opening her, Michael's cock felt, as He rocked His hips into her, that throbbing length seeking solace in the warm, damp, welcoming folds of her sex..

Avalon's head lulled back to rest upon her Master's shoulder... she was helpless between the 2 of them, and truth be told, she wanted both of them at that moment. She knew, that when her bond, her submission, her sacrafice of herself, was consumated between her and the Serpent, she would be forever His, a pawn for His use, His pleasure, His pain. She wondered, in a moment of lucid thought, if that would make her the witch the others thought she was, and would she be able to offer, and lead, the others to the same.... salvation.... she had found at the feet of the very Serpent that ruled Hell......

"Is this your nightmare, little play thing?" Michael's voice slithered into her consciousness, His eyes, flickering with fire, staring into her own....

"no... no... this is my want, my need, my desire, my hunger...." she managed to answer... her soft caress of her voice massaging her Master's ear even as she spoke to Michael...

The sweetness of her lust, now mingling freely with her near terror, dripped from her... she undulating her ass against the Serpent behind her, hips swaying, inviting the One before her... thick droplets of her own lubrication, musky and heated in scent and touch, glistened now upon silken folds..

"I submit my life to You.... Master... my breath, my heart, my soul, my essence... Please.... make me Yours... " Avalon knew that He would take her just as His son would... Michael was merely a part of Him, an extension... another evil that could walk in this world... but her submission was given to the Serpent, the One holding her to Him... the one who would always keep her in the fire, away from the cold, the blackness, the depths of being alone....

He called her Ambrosia... food, nectar, sweetness to be devoured by the gods themselves...

 

[Britwitch]

"But... you forgot the bucket."

Amber barely heard his words as she flew down the corridor between the cells, her heart pounding loudly in her ears as she fled, desperate to escape. Aware of nothing but her own terror.

"Amber, what is wrong?"

She took the stairs as fast as she could, fearing she would stumble...but her feet did not fail her. She ran through the room in which she found herself, not caring about her nakedness, just wanting to get out of the house...this house of evil...
She leapt down the steps that led up to the main doors and tore across the rolling lawn, heading for the woods.
The woods that had witnessed her capture just a few hours previously.

"Amber, the well is that way...What are you doing?"

She yelped as his now angry voice carried to her on the wind. Forcing herself to run faster still, the trees drawing nearer all the time. If she could just get within their dark shadows, she might have a chance at escape.

"As your husband, Amber. I command you to stop. Come back here..."

She stumbled over a clump of weeds and almost spilled entirely to the ground, whimper and crying out over her shoulder.
"P-please Ned...please just let me go...!"

"Amber... no,"

She could hear him gaining on her as she almost reached the woods. She could feel the undergrowth growing thicker and coarser around her bare legs. A few more yards and she would be able to hide. A few more yards and she could stop running...for the time at least.
But then she felt it, a strong hand tangling in her hair and pulling her back sharply. She screamed, struggling as she felt back against a body, strong and broad.
"No...! No please....!! Please don't do this to me...!!" Her screams crying on the wind as the hand in her hair merely continued to pull her, drag her back away from the woods.

 

[Rockingham]

"Such wonderfully sweet words, Ambrosia. Always willing, always wanting to submit. My play thing..."

He held her, like a rock she was thrown upon while his son devoured her every being. He grabbed her hands, letting them drape over to touch him, caress him. Her lips searched for his, her cheek nuzzling against, her desire undeniable.

So noble and proud, so willing and wet. He loved to feel her thrive, throb, undulate against him. Or was it his son? Both of them. He thought he could feel the run of both, the desire of two hot hard bodies against her. It fueled her, taking father and son, needing them.

"Is that it, Ambrosia? Would you like us both, do you want to be caught between the two of us, and slowly ripped apart from the pleasure?"

Michael could not hear, his mind completely occupied by his cock. Such wonderful feelings, they quivered as her juices ran down onto him. The feeling of her heat, and simple wetness thrilled him to no end.

He wanted to explore, let his fingers press and his touch, caress and deny. But this feeling inside him would not let him. It ran through his body, and grabbing her hips, lining her up, he grunted once and found her entrance.

His cock slipping inside, watching with wild fire eyes as she stretched to accept him, accomidate him. His voice groaned, quivering with delight and fear as his cock became sheathed on her welcome and wanton cunt.

"He is a virgin, Ambrosia. You are his first..."

 

[poohlive]

Ned watched, half in horror half anger as a hand reached out from one of the many bushes she passed. It leapt like a snake to grab her and hold her close. At once, her escape was over.

Was it an escape? Ned didn't understand, confusion slitted through his eyes. She would be trying to escape, after saying her love, after agreeing to his marriage?

Flashes of red swept through his vision.

The man, one of the guardians, called out to his brethren. He uttered a long loud howl, which in other parts of the forest surrounding this manor, were responses. People were coming, finally haven caught a prey.

This man grug her, kicking and screaming back to Ned as he stood there. Ned looked down at her, as she was deposited at his feet.

"You said... you loved me, you said you wanted to marry me. Was it all a lie, Amber? Were you trying to hurt me? Did you want me to feel pain and rejection?"

The man, bent down to this crying and hovering form, his brutal hand rubbing against her rosy cheek.

"It's ok, Ned. We can make her feel the same pain you did. We have ours ways. Hmmm, no wonder she decided to run, you were so gentle with her. Hardly a scratch."

Indeed, the only marks on her flawless body were the ones where bushes had grabbd for her. Otherwise she was perfect, virginal, flawless. Ned thought he had hurt her, thought he had loved her and marked her. Had it really happened?

More men joined them, walking up. Five in all, tall muscular men. They were the dirty sinister men who gave women long lewd stares out in public, and adjusted themselves in their pants.

Even now, they were touching themselves. One even pulled out his hard cock, pumping it, fisting it... it looked bigger than Ned's.

 

[stubborn wench]

She braced against him with her hands on his hips, locking her elbows to keep him from forcing himself deeper into her throat. Leaning her head back, straining, until his cock slipped from between her lips, and she looked up at him - oh yes, wild - desperate, in fact.

"Promise me," she hissed fiercely, her voice breaking with the force of her emotion. He bucked his hips, but she held him back. It would not be for nothing - he would not walk again, and leave her here to rot. "Say you will let me go...I will give thee nasty, Reverend - but first, your promise."

He was hesitant, and so she leaned back on her haunches and slipped her nightgown over one shoulder. The stone dungeon was chill and damp, and her thin frame shuddered as she bared her goosepimpled flesh, the pink nipple so pinched and hard, as if it would shrink into itself. She reached around to cradle one full breast in her cold fingers, playing her fingertips over the tiny nub. As he watched, she jiggled it temptingly for him - recalling how fond of this her lascivious employer had been. Another shudder threatened to consume her, but she held it back.

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

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

"Such wonderfully sweet words, Ambrosia. Always willing, always wanting to submit. My play thing..."

He slid within her, Michael, His cock penetrating, impaling her. Avalon gasped, her eyes widening, staring at the ceiling above, the dark ceiling as Michael pressed deeply into the grasp of her body.. He filled her, she pulsing around Him, every beat of her heart could be felt around His sheathed, deeply buried cock....

She was braced against the strong body of the Serpent, she now wrapping both her legs about Michael's hips, the whole of her form rocking with His bucking thrusts into her. The wetness of her, slick and warm, coating the surface of His cock, each motion, each pulse, each shove into her only forcing Him deeper, so very much deeper.

Avalon's voice was keening now, a crescendo of moans, cries, beggings... her Master, growling within her ear as His son took her...

"Is that it, Ambrosia? Would you like us both, do you want to be caught between the two of us, and slowly ripped apart from the pleasure"

"Please..... MMMMMaster" she began to beg... her voice quivering as Michael rocked into her... "please... take my ass... Master... I offer You... I beg You... to consumate our.... bond.... MMMaster... please"....

Michael's groans, her own pleadings, surely could be heard within the Dungeon cells.. her cries only becoming louder, more urgent, needy, wanton.. words no longer could come forth, only breathless moanings and purrings... when Michael lowered His head to capture a nipple, biting into it, drawing blood as He suckled, Avalon screamed out... in pain.... in pleasure.... her soul was slowly being torn asunder as she gave herself to the most evil....

She had been accused of being a witch... she was not...

Now she was something worse, the slave to a spawn, no, the Serpent, from the very depths of hell......

 

[Rockingham]

I'm writing for two... so post is a little long

His eyes still curious, swimming with desire as he bit into her. He tasted first, first and foremost. His tongue coming up with curiousity, flicking, touching, tasting, living. The bold nipple stood out to him, arched, perched on her breast. It called out for his touch, his taste. He sucked it into his mouth.

Like a child, suckling its mother. Michael supposed this was his mother. A mother, of sorts. His father took many women, each one of them able to teach him, able to help him grow. His own mother had shoved him away, tossed him aside like garbage, used water on the streets. He had no love there, no warmth; only pain and cold, the feeling of being ripped away, torn apart.

He didn't know if he bit from anger of his mother unacceptance, or desire from Avalon's throbbing cunt, but Michael bit. He bit and he bit hard. His teeth, silent razors cutting through her flesh as if it were warm butter. And indeed it was, the sweetest of warmth that flowed through her, running into his mouth.

What a wonderful taste, and so full now, so rich. The droplets before were good, tasty, but this... her wound flowed for him to drink, to take. And he did. He swallowed her blood, her essence, her fear, pain, and intense pleasure that ran through her.

"Our deal is done, Ambrosia. It was commenced a long time ago. But, you poor thing. You are wanton, aren't you? We have barely touched, haven't we? Two lovers who have yet to take one another. I suppose you are right, we can not be married until we consumate."

He touched her slender neck as he turned her head to him, making her arc for him, bend back, her face against his. Those lips, red, pouted, running with desire. He put his to hers, licking, testing, teasing. He took her mouth to his, kissed her, desired her even more.

Had it been their first kiss, was his tongue only just now exploring his new play thing. He had wanted to save this for her, wanted to take her alone, away from these dark and damped cells. He had wanted to take her in a lake of fire, as demons watched, her skin red and bare, her blood pooling for them to drink, and her screams arousing him to no end.

This would do though, this would be perfect. He kissed, he touched, he explored his lover for the first time, making memories, recording everything.

"I must keep up my end of the bargain, you are never to be alone. It is the only condition you asked of me taking you. You will never be alone, Ambrosia. Never."

Michael did not fuck her at first. He rather enjoyed the feeling of her warm wet folds gripping him. The way her heat washed over him, the way her cunt gripped and released, the way her juices flowed out to his balls, dropping to the floor beneath them. Everything about it so dirty, so wrong, so fucking good.

When he did move, finally rolling his hips into her, grinding her against his father, Michael fucked her like a virgin might. He started slow, unsure of himself. Not for lacking in confidence, Michael did not lack in that area, but rather lacking in experience. He fucked her to explore, to wander.

His cock had been given all access, and he tried it. He slowly pushed into her folds, swimming within the tight pink confines. He tried shallow short strokes, his cock only moving inches in and out, back and forth. Rutting sounds came from between his teeth as they lashed onto her nipple.

Then long and deep strokes, pulling completely out of her, and then all the way inside one more. He gasped when he felt her wrap entirely around him, grabbing him whole, taking him all the way inside. So intense, so hard. God, he wanted more

And then, when his experience began to unravel, when his warped mind finally touched upon her sex, what she liked, how she wanted it, and how good it felt, he began to move again. Hard and fast, taking her, using her. He moved with more confidence now, more force.

He pulled her hair to the side, exposing her neck. White, pale, and flawless. He bent down to taste it, to take it. His teeth came out, biting her. He bit her hard, a deep mortal wound, ripping flesh, letting her less than virgin blood spoil into his mouth. He drank, drank deep, for he could not be denied his hunger.

And, when he was full, he let go, and watched her wound bleed. Dark deep blood ran down her back, down her curved ass, and onto his waiting cock. He held it there, just under her curved cheek, watchined as the blood began to warm it, flow all over it.

When it was covered, his hand moving to make sure all of her blood surrounded his hard cock. He licked her, sealing the wound. Michael took soo much, and now him... he did not want her dying, not yet... not before she could feel him.

If she were still human it would not matter, for she would be dead anyway, but his blood, even the tiny amount she drank, had powers. It would heal the wounds he wanted healed, it would replace the blood he wanted replaced.

His cock was now lubricated, with her own blood. He pushed it against her full round ass cheeks. He was kind only in parting those cheeks, the head of his massive cock pressing into her entrance. That star shaped hole, puckered, small, uninviting. Even if she wanted it, her body betrayed her true denial.

But He did not care. Growling, grabbing her hair, and pushing, his cock slipped inside. Her blood helping it some, but not much... her body pushing forward, hard onto Michael's cock.

The head was in, but not much else. He smiled, knowing there was so much more to go... as he grabbed her hips, and slowly pulled her back to him.

 

[Britwitch]

"You said... you loved me, you said you wanted to marry me. Was it all a lie, Amber? Were you trying to hurt me? Did you want me to feel pain and rejection?"

Amber trembled, on her knees before Ned and a growing group of men surrounding her.
"Ned...p-please...please don't let them have me..." She whimpered as his hand rubbed her cheek.

"It's ok, Ned. We can make her feel the same pain you did. We have ours ways. Hmmm, no wonder she decided to run, you were so gentle with her. Hardly a scratch."

Amber watched Ned look down at her body, it was unmarked, it was unused...she was innocent once more and she was terrified that she was about to go through the horror of having her innocence ripped away from her again.
She looked around, eyes wide with terror as five, large men stood around her. Leering down, rubbing themselves through their breeches. One removing his large sex and drawing his huge fist up and down the length of it. Shuddering with revulsion at the thought of their hands and mouths upon her body, her fresh young body. Trying to push the images of being taken by more than one at a time out of her head, being bent into lewd positions, their shafts thrust into her mouth...and into her sex....over and over again...

"Ned...please...I am still..." Her words faltered slightly "I'm still innocent...I'm still a v-virgin...please don't let them take that away from me...you're...you're still my friend, aren't you Ned...? You wouldn't let a friend be tortured and used like that...would you...?" Amber tried desperately to reason with him, she could see his certainty falter, clearly unsure of just how they had ended up outside like this. The events within her cell having been all but erased from her body and almost from his mind. "Please...Ned...I'm begging you...help me...save me..."

 

[poohlive]

"You used me," It dawned inside of him now. All of those reasons she cried against him, those shudders of pain and pleasure. He had offered her the world, and she accepted, only until a time when she could run away. Run away scared and cowered like the rest.

He bent down, taking her head into his hands. His large hands, tough and calloused were soft as silk when they touched her pure face.

"I loved you, and helped you. I was honest with you, and I made you feel pleasure. I even threw away those sins of the devil so no one could convict you of being a witch. And how to you repay me, Amber? How do you show your love? By running away, by searching for the very first opportunity you can, and then exploiting it? You never loved me, you never wanted to marry me, carry my son to term, start a family."

The man behind her held her body. His hands began shifting, one cupping her breast, pinching that tight little nipple of hers, while the other went south. His soft fingers curling around the pubic hairs of her flesh.

"And now that you are caught, and lost and helpless again, you want my help? Before I was a monster you ran away from, now I am your only help? No... no Amber. I asked you to stop, I told you to stop, and as your husband I ordered you to stop. You refused, you disobeyed, so you are not my wife anymore."

Tears were in his eyes as he said this though, standing back up, refusing to touch her anymore.

"There is a work horse in the barn. Let's take her there Ned, let's tie her up. She'll be on all fours, and we can punish her from both ends... from all ends."

The man who spoke these dark and silken words now had his finger against her soft cleft. It ran up and down those virginal lips, lips which have never had a man's touch before.

Ned nodded. The men ran towards the barn, screaming and hollering, preparing her for her punishment. The one who was holding her so tenderly, so gingerly was named Kevin. Kevin, with the wandering hands and silken voice.

"Come on then, slut. You have a lot to learn." He grabbed her thick mane of hair, pulling her along by it... towards the barn.

Ned followed, tears forming, watching his ex wife being dragged like a slut to the other pigs, rutting and waiting for their treat.

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

Blood spilling, her nipple effectively peirced by the sharpness of Michael's teeth, He suckling, feeding, tasting... Her eyes closing... burning pain, along with the tendrils of the most exquisite pleasure racing thru her...

Michael fed, and thrust within her, His body rocking, cock easily sliding in and out of her, dripping wet with the warmth, the slickness, the fluids of her arousal..

His kiss, deep, His tongue, was it forked? Like the Serpent He truely was?? Her dazed mind, spinning with the pain, the pleasure, could not determine, was it forked? Was she kissing.... Lucifer Himself?? The most feared Demon, the One truely behind the witch hunts that were killing so many innocent souls, innocent souls for Him to feed upon???

The kiss melted into a low, wanton moan, she taking a gasping, panting breath... She felt His lips, trailing along her jaw, a brush of fingers and her throat is bared, vunerable.. the softest of kisses, a gentle suckle of skin, to bring the warmth of her blood to the surface...

Razored fangs, sharp, deadly, Avalon's eyes widening, staring upwards as He tore into her throat. She screamed, a howling sound, so loud, so despairing, so mournful, the scream of a soul that is dying... Even the men outside, who had just captured prey of their own, and Ned, His willing servant, and the prey... Amber... heard the scream erupting from the house. ...

Her blood, warm, sweet, thick, flowed.. lacing over smooth skin.....coating, slippery and dripping...

Her second scream came when His cock began to invade her ass... The tightness tying to impede what He desired, He pushed, as Michael pushed her back from His own repeated thrustings... until the head of Him forced... the muscle opening slightly to Him, enough to allow Him within... Avalon's cry faded.. she suddenly felt as if she were being ripped apart... maybe.... she was....

She leaned forward, her body suddenly wanting to escape the pain that was trying to impale her, her body coming to rest upon Michael's heaving chest... she looking up at Him, His lips lined and colored with her blood, His cock still throbbing inside her, altho He had stopped His rapid bucking for the moment..

He, the Serpent, His breath warm in her ear, began to pull her backwards, only Him, her legs loosening from around Michael's waist... Michael moved with her, His cock still buried inside her throbbing, heated pussy... It was agonizingly slow, Him pulling her back and onto Him, her muscles refusing to loosen, the grip was vice tight, yet He still forced Himself deeper, so much deeper into her ass....

Avalon was unable to scream now, her voice, her throat raw... her strength nearly gone... she wondered if He would kill her... the thought scared her, she didn't want to die... but if she did, at least she would not be alone....

"I must keep up my end of the bargain, you are never to be alone. It is the only condition you asked of me taking you. You will never be alone, Ambrosia. Never."

His Ambrosia, that was what He called her... His to feed upon... and she would never.... be alone....

The orgasm hit her suddenly, as Michael pulled back and plunged inside of her spasming pussy again, and again, and again, feeling the cock that was taking her ass as He did so... She tensed, her back arching, and that moment of climax allowed her muscles to relax... she feeling one last push from Him, behind her, He was buried, balls deep, into her ass... A flood of her juices spilling out around Michael's cock, searing hot, the velvet like walls of her sex rippling, pulsing, as the climax shook thru her.... The whole of her form shuddered violently... before nearly collasping, He holding her against Him, her back to His chest, His cock gripped within her ass, was all that kept her from falling to the floor... Panting, moaning... and still, they, and especially HE were not done with her...

 

[Britwitch]

"You used me...I loved you, and helped you. I was honest with you, and I made you feel pleasure. I even threw away those sins of the devil so no one could convict you of being a witch. And how to you repay me, Amber? How do you show your love? By running away, by searching for the very first opportunity you can, and then exploiting it? You never loved me, you never wanted to marry me, carry my son to term, start a family."

Amber felt tears running down her cheeks as the man behind her hauled her unceremoniously to her feet, one hand covering her breast and making her whimper as he pinched the nipple teasingly almost. The other hand slipping down over her stomach to weave it's fingers into the soft hair covering her sex.
"N-Ned please..." She sobbed quietly as she felt her body pulled back tighter against the man behind her.

"And now that you are caught, and lost and helpless again, you want my help? Before I was a monster you ran away from, now I am your only help? No... no Amber. I asked you to stop, I told you to stop, and as your husband I ordered you to stop. You refused, you disobeyed, so you are not my wife anymore."

Part of Amber wanted to scream, madness threatening to take over her mind. She had never been his wife...never...he had asked her to marry him, she had said yes...but that was as far as it went...but Ned could not, would not, see that...

"There is a work horse in the barn. Let's take her there Ned, let's tie her up. She'll be on all fours, and we can punish her from both ends... from all ends."

The words of the Stranger ran through her mind as she struggled uselessly to pull free from the man holding her firmly but carefully against his body. The Stranger had promised her marriage and children, a husband who would love her...not this...not being taken roughly, used completely by strangers...to be left...God only knew how she would be left after this...
The man behind her began to run his finger up and down between her legs, causing ripples of fear to run riot across her skin, her virginal sex being touched for the first time...once again...

"Please...you can't let them do this to me...Ned...please, I beg you..."

Amber watched in horror as Ned merely nodded.

"No...no, you can't do this to me...!" She screamed as the man released her body only to take hold of her raven coloured hair in his fist and began to drag her towards the barn, following the others already running like mad men to light the lanterns within. Her scream mingled with another on the wind. She felt her skin prickling as she somehow sensed where it had come from. He had drawn that scream forth...

"Come on then, slut. You have a lot to learn." The man's soft, almost dangerously soft, voice broke through her thoughts as he hauled her onwards towards the barn.

 

[Rockingham]

Despite the wonderful tight fit, clamping down on him, desperately tightening around his massive cock, trying to push it out, the feeling was so unlike her cunt. Her cunt was designed for sex, enticed by it. Even if she refused, her cunt knew what to do, releasing juices, clamping around him as he would rush in, stretching to accompany his girth.

The ass knew none of this. It simple tigthened, vised on his cock and refused entrance. He pushed in further.. the friction so wonderful, so erotic. He moaned against her, as he could feel her ripping deep inside. Skin upon skin, pushing, moving, forcing to go further.

He broke her, he ripped her anew. So much like tearing a hymen, the blood flowing free now, dropping between them like her juices. They both pooled at her feet, the real evidence of her love and devotion of these two men...

These two demons.

With her own blood, now freely flowing inside of her ass, he could push easier. It became a lube for him, and as he pushed again, forcing her upon his cock, impaling her over and over again, the only pain was from her torn anus, as it was ripped again and again, further and further.

He matched his thrusted with his son, both of them driving into her at the same time, filling her up, crashing down upon their hard bodies, holding her up, caressing her, fucking her.

Michael had drank his fill from her, but like the newborn lover that he was, bold curiousity still ran through him. He hungered, but he knew not what for. He would have asked his father, if his father was not soo occupied at the moment.

Instead, Michael began to tear at her flesh. He bore his teeth down, those sharpened razors sinking into her flesh. It did not hurt, it felt painless, peaceful, like gentle kisses against her skin. It only pained when he pulled out, taking pieces of her, watching the blood run fresh, watching her become marked from his love.

No, it was his hate. In those dark pooled eyes, endless eyes that showed nothing and everything at once, Michael saw not a play thing in front of him, but his own mother. Amber, his mother, who had left him to die, who would rather give him away to live like this, than love as a son.

It was his mother's fault for making him this way, and she would pay. Oh yes, she would pay. He only wanted her love, her affection.

The frustration pooled in Michael, and he bit her repeatedly. Against her nipples, her breasts... he saw his father's wound, healed against he neck, and opened it, blood flowing into his sweet mouth.

He would show her the pain his mother had shown him.

They both fucked her, harder now. The climax rising, bodies slapping against one another. He could not hold out, not forever. A tightened virgin ass, bleeding around his cock always sent him over the edge. He was thrusting faster now, matching his own son...

Michael seemed renewed by his sweet Ambrosia's torn flesh. It excited him in a way nothing else would. To see such pain on her body, and yet such pleasure in her eyes. Michael would tear her apart, just as he had, and she would beg for more.

They both fucked her, their own cries of pleasure, orgasm running through them. Teeth on her, blood flowing freely, cocks vibrating, throbbing, pulsing.

And in an instant, cum... cum slashing up inside her, cum filling her, to the brim. Thick, hot, wet, silken streams of cum making her the slut she truly was.

 

[poohlive]

The barn looked old and rotted out. The ceiling held great rafters, an ancient skeleton of warped and damaged wood. Cracks in the roof let shards of light piercing down on the hay strewn floor below.

In the middle was a workhorse, slightly modified. It looked new, with new wood, stirrups, leather straps for belts. It looked brand new, as if someone had just made it. It was created for this one occasion, for this one opportunity.

Around the workbench stood the men, they were all undressed now, touching themselves, getting themselves hard as they watched Amber being drug in. Some of them hollered, others began to spout lewd and horrid words at her, they called her a cunt, a slut, and so many others.

It was designed to have her bent over, near completely. Her ass would hang out from the back, her head from the front. She would be tied down, unable to move, but her hands would be free to roam and touch if she wished.

Two of the men helped her, strapping her into it.

Ned kneeled down, as he saw her struggling, tears falling from her as the rough hands began to touch and squeeze, tightening the leather straps, holding her in place.

"You were not begging when you ran off, were you? You did not need my help to escape. You did that on your own? Why should I help you, just for you to run away from me again? Why don't you ask your friend to help... the one in your cell."

He could remember some parts, remember Amber, his wife, crawling to another man, drinking from another man. Those memories flooded through him, so clear, so conscious. Everything else was a blur, but he remembered.

"Ask the Serpent, Amber? He was the one you chose, over me. Maybe he can help you, maybe you can become his wife."

One of them already lined up behind her, his cock pressing against her folds. He grabbed at her hips.

"No," Ned said, getting up, moving, taking the man's place.

"I was her husband once, I loved her once. I tried to save her from this, but she refused me. Now, I get my own punishment... now, Amber you are mine once more."

He grabbed at her hips, his cock up against her. For the first time, for every time, she could feel the head begin to part her virgin lips. No lube, her sex unready, he began pressing deep inside of her.

All of the men around cheered and yelled at her, at them molding, forming, become one.

 

[AmbrosiaCaress]

Avalon's chilling howl ripped from her throat, as her blood flowed, and the 2 Demons, beings worse than any witch could ever be, took their pleasure from her, giving her in return, pain... yet... she fed off that, her orgasm was near violent, tearing thru her... her body, her eyes, her voice, begging, screaming for more....

And more was what she got. Their seed filling her as both demons, men, exploded within the body of the slave between them.. blood flowing, semen spilling, her own cum mingling, evidence that indeed the girl, once an innocent, once accused of being a witch, was now the slave of evil, of darkness. Her soul drowning in the blood that They, both Michael and the Serpent, drew from her, drank from her...

Avalon collasped to the floor at the feet of the Serpent and His son... she was near death, pale, weak, unable to even beg for mercy. Her long dark mane hid her face, at least for the moment. Her body, marked from razor sharp fangs, and paths of her own blood. Her head rested on the boot of the Serpent, the leather grazing her cheek, and even as she lay there, weak, helpless... she turned her head to brush her lips to those boots and kiss them.... He was her Master.... she was His slave.....

She was too weak to hear Amber's screams. Too weak to even hear her own still echoing within the building. All she could hear was His laughter, and the haunting shreiks of the damned..... in hell....

 

[Britwitch]

Amber dug her heels into the ground as she was dragged inside the old barn, screaming and struggling, trying to hit or kick the man who hauled her along by her hair. Her eyes fell upon the workhouse in the centre, it looked so out of place. Polished would and gleaming buckles on the ends of the leather straps. Something so new in this old, rotting building.

The men surrounding it were all naked and their shafts of varying sizes and states of arousal all being played with as Amber was slung over the workhorse. Each insult that was hurled at her stinging as she fought uselessly to prevent herself being secured to the bench, from which she knew there would no escape.
Another man came to help the one holding her hair, bending her forwards and holding her down while they fixed the straps around her legs and her back, holding her in place. Her legs tied apart and her sex and behind high in the air. Her head head down by a strap around her neck, but so that her head was facing forwards. Crying as a hand roughly slipped between her thighs and probed her dry, tight sex. Ned fell to his knees infront of her. Tears evident upon his cheeks, along with anger, almost murderous in strength, glowing in his eyes.

"You were not begging when you ran off, were you? You did not need my help to escape. You did that on your own? Why should I help you, just for you to run away from me again? Why don't you ask your friend to help... the one in your cell."

"I...I didn't ask for any of this...please...please let me go..."

"Ask the Serpent, Amber? He was the one you chose, over me. Maybe he can help you, maybe you can become his wife."

Amber shuddered at the mention of the Stranger. The Stranger who had 'freed' her from the cell only to trap her in this vile situation.
She cried out as she felt hands gripping her hips, the smooth head of one their shafts rubbing against her own.

"No,"

Amber felt like crying as Ned called out. Perhaps he had come to his senses...her friend had returned to save her. But she felt any relief she might have felt turn swiftly into horror as he stood and moved behind her, taking the place of the other man.

"I was her husband once, I loved her once. I tried to save her from this, but she refused me. Now, I get my own punishment... now, Amber you are mine once more."

"You were never my husband Ned! I'm not yours! Don't you see...it's Him...that man...he's brought this upon all of us!" She screamed, pulling uselessly at the leather straps holding her down in such a lewd position.

But her cries feel on deaf ears as Ned pressed up against her. His large hands holding her hips as he pressed forwards, no gentleness, no hesitation, he was attmepting to plough straight into her. She screamed louder than ever as his shaft eventually parted her lips and began to force it's way inside her unprepared sex.
"Noooo! No please...!"
Pain and discomfort tore through her as Ned slipped deeper inside her...once again. The cat calls and whoops of those watching joining her screams and cries, feeling the barn with sounds of horror and pure lust.

He grabbed at her hips, his cock up against her. For the first time, for every time, she could feel the head begin to part her virgin lips. No lube, her sex unready, he began pressing deep inside of her.