A Witch's Tale by Scott ChurchApril Longthorpe is accused of witchcraft, and finds herself at the mercy of David Fyling, a rather unusual witchfinder. April embarks on a fantastic journey that takes her from the witchfinder's bed to the brothel's of Europe to a stint on the high seas.
From RetroSpank Publishing: When beautiful April Longthorpe is accused of witchcraft, she finds herself at the mercy of David Fyling, a rather unusual witchfinder. He doesn't think April is any more a witch than he is, but because her chief accuser has rallied the townspeople against her, he must test her to appease them. He whips her with a special implement, and announces her free of sin when the marks fade within an appointed time.
But April's capacity for punishment also reveals a desire for it, and she embarks on a fantastic journey that takes her from the witchfinder’s bed to the brothel’s of Europe to a stint on the high seas. In each location she finds herself experiencing new disciplinary pains and pleasures, even as her lover’s occupation takes him to far flung places for his own exploits. Will the two of them reunite? Or will April’s bewitching lust for the lash lead her in a totally different direction.
“A Witch’s Tale” is fast-paced book with lots of action, and is guaranteed to be one of the most unusual spanking books you’ll ever read. Please be aware that this title contains severe non-consensual elements, including some torture scenes and slave punishment, in the tradition of classic Victorian erotica. If such elements offend you please do not buy this book.
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A Witch's Tale (Sample Chapter)
An accused witch with a desire for punishment
© Scott Church and RetroSpank Publishing 2013
April Langthorpe looked sorrowfully round the dark squalid dungeon and weighed her dire predicament. The cold hard cobbled floor was damp and slippery. Even after three days, she still could not get used to the awful smells that percolated though the slimy stone walls. Traces of bodily fluids were evident amid the green oozing slime, and the timeless graffiti that was scored into the old Yorkshire stone.
"Oh, what is to become of me?" she mused woefully.
Dressed only in a dirty grey dress, she dreaded what she must look like now after three days of squalor. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was matted and lackluster. Her skin itched all over from the dirt and infestation she had had to endure. Her dirty face was streaked with the tracks of her salty tears, which had flowed freely and often during her incarceration. The condemned woman began to look back on her life, and analyze the events that had led up to this latest and most drastic of fixes.
The eldest of nine children, April had led a hard life from the outset. She never really had a childhood at all, having spent most of her adolescent years looking after her brothers and sisters, working in the fields, cleaning or doing the never-ending laundry. A clever girl, she had an uncanny knack of predicting the future, and being left handed too, was viewed with suspicion by her peers and other members of the village community. But she worked hard and never complained, always doing her best to look clean and attractive. However, because of the local gossip mongers, and her huge workload of chores, April found it hard to mix with others of her own age group, and was relatively old when she eventually met a boy who had time for her.
Alex was also a hard working lad, and after a short courtship, the pair of them were married, and managed to get a small tenancy on the edge of the village where they kept chickens, goats, and sheep. For the first time in her life April felt happy, building a home and tending her animals, while Alex worked as a woodsman in the nearby forests. Her happiness was soon to be compounded when she realised she was pregnant with child, and the pair made preparations for the forthcoming birth.
Alas, tragedy struck poor April. Her child was stillborn, and two days later Alex was struck by lightning while at work in the woods. He died instantly. The news of these events spurred further speculation among the superstitious villagers, and April became isolated in her cottage on the edge of the little settlement. Nevertheless, being clever and industrious, the young widow quickly overcame her grief and managed to become self-sufficient with her animals and garden.
The next year was a black one in the history of the village. Crops failed and chickens refused to lay. Families were starving with lack of nourishment from the land. When it was spotted that April's chickens were still laying, jealousy and anger started to manifest among the villagers. The word "witch" was used frequently in guarded but spiteful tones, and April was regarded with open hostility.
Eventually, one night while nursing a sickly lamb, April heard a commotion from outside her cottage. On investigation she saw that a large group of angry villagers were approaching with flaming torches. She quickly retreated into her dwelling and bolted the door. The noise got louder.
"Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" they chanted.
Fearing they would set fire to the cottage with her still inside it, April went out and confronted them.
"I'm not a witch" she said, "I'm just a God-fearing person like the rest of you".
But the mob was having none of it. The ringleader, a troublemaker by the name of Benjamin Horne, demanded she be burned there and then, and others rushed to gather kindling. It was only the timely intervention of the parish constable that saved her from a fiery fate.
And now here she was, locked up for her own safety in a dungeon beneath Boroughbridge Town Hall. She'd been told that the evil Benjamin Horne would be employed by the court to extract a confession from her, and that all sorts of sadistic techniques involving branding irons and nipple clamps would be used in the process. Even if she managed to resist confessing, she would probably suffer an excruciatingly painful death at the hands of her torturer. Be burnt at the stake or tortured to death by a cruel monster, what a choice! From the high barred open window she heard the sounds of a horse-drawn carriage.
Thirty minutes later, the jailer appeared with an evil grin on his face.
"There's someone come to see you witch" he snarled menacingly.
April cringed, wondering what further torment awaited her. Her wrists were manacled, and she was led roughly up the stone stairway to the Sheriff of Boroughbridge's office. The jailer knocked on the big heavy iron-studded solid oak door, and they waited. April found it difficult to stay on her feet. After three days with just some stale bread and rancid water for nourishment she was in poor health and very weak. In addition to that she was petrified, not knowing what awful fate was to befall her now.
Eventually the oppressive looking door opened and the jailer was ordered to lead April into the palatial chambers of the town Sheriff. April teetered unsteadily on her thin legs and took in her new surroundings. Behind a massive leather-clad desk in front of her sat a man dressed all in black with bushy whiskers and a severe countenance on his face. Standing to the side of the desk was the Sheriff, dressed in all his finery, apparently conducting the proceedings.
"Miss Langthorpe" he commenced, "this is Captain Fyling from York. He is the regional officer for the Witchfinder General and he has been given the evidence provided by your village people. Pay heed to what he has to say young lady, your fate is now in his hands."
April looked from one man to the other, but saw no sign of compassion on either face. "Yes Sir" she responded.
Captain Fyling looked up from the papers he'd been studying. "Please leave me alone with the accused." he said in a quiet yet commanding voice.
The Sheriff and the jailer took their leave and left April standing trembling in front of the dark, mysterious-looking figure sitting behind the desk. Captain Fyling looked again at the papers before him. After what seemed like an age to April, he lifted his head, and looking her square in the eyes began to speak.
"So Miss Langthorpe, what do you have to say to these charges of witchcraft?"
"It's n' nonsense Sir" April stammered, "I'm not a witch, I m just an ordinary person".
April explained the circumstances, which had led to her being imprisoned and charged with witchcraft.
For the first time the Captains face began to soften slightly.
"Well, young lady," he continued, "given the evidence I've got here, I'm inclined to agree with you."
April couldn't believe what she was hearing; did this man really think she was innocent?
"However," continued the man in black, "If I were to dismiss the case straightaway there would be a riot. Some sort of test will have to be carried out to prove you are mortal."
April groaned inwardly, she'd heard of these sorts of rituals before, and they usually involved some sort of near-death experience whereby if the victim survived she would be burnt as a witch. Otherwise it was just another painful death.
Captain Fyling smiled as he watched the wretched girl's reactions.
"W' what will it involve?" stammered April in a frightened whisper.
"Well" replied the Captain, "I've just taken delivery of this".
With that he picked up a long Hessian bag from behind the desk. He placed it on the desktop and proceeded to unwrap it carefully. April's eyes widened as he slowly revealed a long stick-like object, which resembled a miniature shepherd's crook. It was pale yellow in colour and had nobbly bits at regular intervals along its entire length. A thick layer of goose fat had been smeared all over it to preserve it and keep it pliable.
"This object is known as a cane, and is one of a number that have been procured from an overseas source especially for the Witchfinder Generals Office." Captain Fyling stood up and carefully wiped the thick tallowy goose fat off the slender cane. Standing clear of the desk, he then rapidly swished the implement through the air in an aggressive manner. April visibly flinched at the sound it made. It was scary.
"I will administer thirteen strokes with this implement to your bare buttocks young lady. If after five days the marks have healed, you will be deemed to be a witch. If not, you will be acquitted of all charges."
April slowly took in what the man was saying to her. She was still outwardly pale but deep down she was starting to detect a glimmer of hope.
"Have you been flogged before?" asked the Captain.
"I was birched once at Sunday School," replied April remembering that painful experience when the minister had whipped her over his bench. It had been Benjamin Horne that had got her into trouble that day as well. She could still remember that nasty smug sneer on his face when he waited to see her after the punishment and gloat.
"Well you may find this experience a great deal more painful than that, but I'm sure you'll agree that it's your best option right now." The dark man smiled again as he felt the weight of the cane in his right hand. April detected a hint of eager anticipation in his tone.
"Y' yes Sir," said April, her hands went involuntarily to her shapely round buttocks.
"Very well, we will commence the procedure at once." A new sternness could be heard in Captain Fyling's voice.
April was once more taken down to the dungeon, and a birching horse was set up in the centre of the largest cell. Her manacles were removed and she was ordered to drape herself across the horse. Feeling weak, nauseous, and extremely frightened, the wretched girl clambered up onto the hard wooden surface of the apparatus, and stoically reached down for the legs. The jailer then secured her wrists and ankles so that she was fixed with her now vulnerable bottom pointing ominously upwards toward the dingy ceiling.
Captain Fyling slowly removed his jacket and rolled his shirtsleeve up his right arm. Stepping forward he took the hem of April's dress and flipped it over her back leaving her shapely white buttocks bare, and exposed to the eager gaze of the jailer, Sheriff and her punisher. She shuddered involuntarily. The cold air on her thighs, back, and bare bottom caused goose pimples to rise, and the equally cold timber horse was uncomfortable under her hips. Captain Fyling invited the Sheriff to take up a position where he would get a close view of the cane striking the poor girl's bare bottom. The local dignitary willing complied.
"April Langthorpe!" announced Captain Fyling in a loud voice, "You are hereby accused of witchcraft and will be tested by caning. You will receive the devils number of thirteen strokes of the Witchfinder General's cane. Should the devil heal you, you will be burnt at the stake as a witch. Do you understand girl?"
"Yes Sir" replied April weakly. She stared down at the dungeon floor in the most embarrassing position she had ever assumed; she felt she could feel the eyes of the men behind her ogling her naked bottom, and try as she might she could not clench her cheeks close enough to prevent her pussy peeping out from between them. She shut her eyes as she listened to the Captain taking up his position. There was a pause, then an eerie whooshing sound…
April heard the sound before she felt the pain start to materialize across her unprotected backside. She was totally unprepared for the fiery intensity of it, and screamed out loud in agony.
The dungeon fell silent. Then…
April steadied herself and managed to take the second stroke silently.
She bucked on the horse straining at the binding straps.
She cried out again.
The Sheriff was mesmerized by the spectacle.
April thrashed as hard as she could over the horse trying desperately to do something to relieve the excruciating pain.
Her hair flew out in all directions tears spraying from her eyes and cheeks
The cane came down relentlessly.
April's bottom was a mass of angry red welts.
The Captain continued tirelessly.
April screamed for mercy.
Her torment was worse than anything she could imagine...
…and it stopped at last.
April continued to wail and sob uncontrollably over the horse. Captain Fyling mopped his brow and carefully dressed himself. The Sheriff appeared to be in a state of shock, while the jailer just grinned wickedly, making no effort whatsoever to hide his enjoyment of the spectacle.
"Please take a close look at the girl's bottom" Captain Fyling told the Sheriff, "If she is a witch those marks will completely heal in five days." The Sheriff duly looked, feeling nothing but pity as he took in the terrible damage inflicted on poor April's pretty bare bottom.
"Release her from the horse" ordered the Witchfinder's officer.
The jailer undid the straps, which were by now biting into April's wrists and ankles, causing considerable inflammation to her skin. The Captain then helped the sobbing girl back onto her feet and supported her while she tried to regain control of her wobbly legs.
"Miss Langthorpe will now spend the next five days in my lodgings," announced Captain Fyling, and with that he led her up the cold stone staircase towards the front door. "Have my bags delivered to the inn across the road."
April was in a dreamlike state as she felt herself being guided out of the Town Hall and across the street to the tavern. Captain Fyling ordered the best room in the building and nobody argued. He ordered a bathtub to be filled in the room and clean nightclothes to be provided for his guest.
When all was ready he ordered April to remove her dirty grey dress and stand naked in the hot tub.
"There, there my dear" he said gently, "You've been through a lot, it's time for some kindness now"
Now relieved of his jacket and tie, Captain Fyling slowly, gently and very carefully began to wash all the prison grime sweat and dirt off his charge. April continued to sob and her tears continued to flow. Clean water was sent for, to replace the grey slurry in the tub and eventually April plucked up the courage to immerse her tender sore bottom into the tub and sit in the clean water. The Captain then proceeded to wash her hair, getting all the grease and dirt out, before straightening it, and combing out the straggly tugs. Finally, he washed April's pretty pale face, cleaning the last of the salty tears from her cheeks.
"You have lovely eyes my dear" he told her smiling.
When he was finally satisfied she was clean he ordered her to stand. Standing totally naked, now clean and glowing from the hot water, April covered her pussy with her hands. Then, with clean warm towels in front of a blazing log fire the Captain carefully dried her all over, taking care to dab her fiery red bottom as gently as he could.
"Oh Sir, you're such a kind man really" smiled April, so glad to be out of the filthy dress and free from that stinking dungeon once more.
"Lay down on the bed April" he told her.
Face down on the feather mattress with towels and pillows beneath her hips, April cooed with pure pleasure as her host carefully applied his own special brand of cooling cream to her brightly welted buttocks. His fingers delicately traced the raised weals, ensuring that every bit of tortured skin was covered in the magical balm. As her hips gyrated, his hand slipped deftly down between her milky white thighs, and his fingers started to explore Aprils more private parts. He rubbed her pubis and felt her push back against his hand. His fingers entered her vagina and he felt her wetness. His creamy fingers excited her rubbery clitoris with small circular motions which brought husky gasps from her lips. His thumb rubbed hard against her G spot and she lifted her bottom in anticipation.
"I think we're going to enjoy the next five days" he told her smiling.
April wanted to tell him how much she agreed with that sentiment but found herself speechless. The mixed sensations of pleasure and pain were taking her places she never knew existed. Yes it certainly would be better than the last five she thought, not daring to open her mouth for fear of what noise might come out of it.
* * * * *
The following days were the most enjoyable April had ever experienced. Her grimy old clothes were burnt and replaced with clean cotton garments. She was well fed, and washed daily. Her skin became soft and ivory-white in complexion. Her eyes sparkled and her hair felt soft and clean. Though her tender thrashed bottom still felt twice its normal size, with the help of the Captain's meticulous attention and care, she managed to escape any infection. As time went by the livid inflammation slowly started to abate.
Captain Fyling taught her things about her body she had never imagined. They made love each day and his expertise in all things carnal never ceased to amaze the simple country girl. Her experience in the dungeon had changed April. She vowed from that day on to do her best to enjoy life to the full and never mind tomorrow.
Five days after her caning, April winced while the witchfinder worked on her bottom. In two hours time she would have to present it to the town Mayor and she didn't want it to be looking too good. Face down on the bed with her bottom supported by pillows the poor girl worked hard to suppress her tears. The witch-finder's big hands felt rough as his fingers firmly worked to spread the thirteen welts and aggravate the cuts they had made on the soft flesh of April's bottom. When at last he was satisfied with his work they had breakfast together. She savored the hot porridge and smoked trout as they chatted.
"What will you do?" asked Captain Fyling. "Word has it your house has been burned and your stock all gone."
"I'll survive," replied April smiling, "don't worry about me."
Although she tried to appear confident, the look in her eyes betrayed her inner doubts, and the Captain embraced his intimate roommate lovingly.
Later that morning April obediently bent over the Mayor's desk. Her dress was lifted and the Mayor closely inspected her naked buttocks. Thanks to the Captain's expert ministrations, breaks still showed in the angry red welts left by the vicious cane, and the skin around them was swollen and inflamed. April winced and grimaced as she felt the mayor's fingertips tracing the lines of her battle scars. She got the feeling he was enjoying his task.
"Yes, I have to agree with you" nodded the Mayor solemnly; "There's no black magic at work there."
He stepped toward the window.
"I'm not sure I'll be able to convince that lot though" he continued.
Outside, a group of townsfolk had gathered and angry residents were gesturing menacingly toward the Mayors Office. Benjamin Horn was prominent among them, obviously assuming the role of ringleader.
The Mayor threw open the window and shouted down to the angry mob. "April Langthorpe is not a witch!," he proclaimed.
"We don't believe you!," retorted Benjamin Horn, sneering fiercely.
"It's true, I tell you!" continue the Mayor, "She has been tested by the Captain of the Witchfinder General's Office. She has suffered pain and degradation; the humiliation of caning, and has been proven to be mere mortal. You must stop this nonsense."
"Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" chanted the crowd.
"Do you think I should address them?" offered Captain Fyling.
"No" said the Mayor gravely. "I don't think that would be a good idea at all!"
He turned to Captain Fyling, concern etched into his face. "You have pronounced her innocent," he said. "If you do not want your verdict to be for naught, I suggest you do is take Miss Langthorpe away in your coach while I try to calm these idiots."
* * * * *
And so it was that April left the town of Boroughbridge with nothing other than the dress she wore and a simple pair of sandals. She was crouched on the floor of Captain Fyling's carriage praying for safe deliverance.
The journey was uncomfortable for her as the seat was hard under her tender bottom, and the road was littered with potholes.
"What is to become of me, Sir?" She asked her companion.
He smiled affectionately "I'll think of something my dear, don't you worry, and from now on please call me David whilst we're alone; it's much nicer."
April kissed him affectionately. "You're so kind to me," she said, "how can I ever repay you?"
"Just do as I instruct, April, and we'll get on just fine"
April had never been to York before, but she spotted the Minster from many miles away. The huge gothic cathedral church dominated the skyline from all directions, its pale grey stone towers gleaming in the watery October sunlight. As they drew nearer, the city walls appeared to tower over them, pale and oppressive with their high battlements and turrets. They looked almost white in contrast to the autumnal gold and brown of the trees round about with fallen leaves strewn around their base. Inside the wall, the city was a hive of activity, withall kinds of craftsmen and tradesman busy selling their wares. April longed to stretch her legs and take the weight off her bruised and painful bottom. She was fascinated by the bustling metropolis, with its higgledy-piggledy half-timbered shops and houses leaning precariously over the narrow cobbled streets. The Minster seemed to tower over them wherever they went with its ornate flying buttresses and hideous gargoyles staring downwards. The combined noise of hawkers, musicians, tradesmen and animals was unlike anything April had ever experienced before.
At last they pulled into a courtyard and the driver dismounted. Captain Fyling led her into the building and up a steep flight of stairs. April found herself in a luxurious suite of rooms furnished with rich velvet and silk upholstered furniture. She helped her companion to light a fire and unpack his bags. The blood drained from her face as she recognized the hessian bag containing the fearsome cane that had caused so much pain to her poor bottom. Involuntarily she held her buttocks feeling the raised welts through her dress.
"You can stay here for tonight" the witchfindertold her, "but after that we must find you somewhere more permanent."
Again they bathed in a big hot tub. After administering to April's wounded bottom, David asked her to lay down on her back in front of the flickering log fire. She watched him with curiosity while he lathered her pubic mound with soap, vigorously rubbing her with his strong fingers.
"Mmmm" she purred, "that feels nice."
He then produced a cutthroat razor.
"Don't worry my dear" he assured her, seeing April's eyes widen, "It's quite safe."
April felt her excitement rising as David expertly shaved the hair from around her pussy, scraping the wiry tufts away with effortless strokes of his gleaming blade. It was wonderful to feel the cool air on the soft tender white skin she hadn't seen bared for years. When he was satisfied he'd removed all of her pubic hair, David cleaned his razor and dabbed April's smooth white pussy lips with sweet smelling toilet water, allowing his fingertips to trace the contours of her soft skin. April moaed with delight. Next he kissed her freshly shaven pussy and the soft flesh at the tops of her thighs. It felt marvelous. His tongue slipped deftly between her warm, freshly washed and sweet-smelling shaven pussy lips, probing her most secret places. His moustache tickled the tender naked skin, and she felt her love juices rising as his tongue parted her lips and explored deeper within.
"Oh David!" she gasped, gazing dreamily down at him.
The tip of his darting tongue teased her swollen clitoris, massaging the rubbery flesh and intensifying her deep erotic pleasure. She felt a finger enter her hypersensitive vagina and press into her sensitive core.
April pushed her pussy hard into the Captains mouth as she felt him exciting that sensitive core and clitoris simultaneously. It was fantastic. His hands seemed to be everywhere - fingers squeezing her tender bare bottom, caressing her breasts, and all the time arousing her most sensitive spots within her hot wet sex.
"Oh I love you David!" she cried. "Please don't stop. It's wonderful."
"Turn over my darling" he said quietly.
April rolled onto her tummy and raised her bottom provocatively. Between her cane-striped shapely buttocks, her pussy glistened with a mixture of saliva and love juices. David admired her naked body, still steaming from the hot tub; it looked beautiful in the orangey glow of the dancing firelight.
"Oh take me darling, I want you sooo much" she pleaded.
David slipped his big rampant member easily into her well-lubricated pussy. When he pushed it home it felt too big for her to endure, but at the same time it felt terrific. She pushed her bottom back into his groin, willing him to make love to her. He did not disappoint. Thrusting slowly at first with a deep rhythmic style, he pumped his big hard cock in and out of her tight wet pussy. April gasped and cried with elation. She was loving it. He held on to her hips and pushed harder, deeper and faster; pulling her soft round bottom into his pelvis. Just when she thought she was going to climax for the final time he withdrew and April collapsed. In an instant David flipped her over, parted her legs and entered her once more.
"Oh I do love you." She wailed, her head spinning.
She wrapped her legs around his back, gazing into his eyes as he continued to make love to her, expertly, his tempo getting faster and faster. Their bodies were like one mass of seething writhing flesh, glistening with sweat and moving in perfect harmony. April felt an enormous orgasm building up within her. It was like nothing she had ever experienced or imagined possible before. She heard him panting, gasping, mouthing unheard words. She felt him shudder as she herself pushed hard upwards into him, wanting him more and more.
And then they came toogether, him deep inside her, his cock twitching violently as he pumped his hot semen into her already soaking wet pussy. She cried out like a wild animal. It was as if the sound came from elsewhere, but the sensations were just too good for words. Waves of pleasure were rolling over her, through her, under her; engulfing her very existence. Her whole body felt unbelievably and intensely alive; it tingled with pure unadulterated pleasure.
And so there they lay. Together, spent, on the floor; two lovers smiling, as happy as could be, totally content after the most wonderful sex imaginable. They kissed and hugged, him still inside her, his cock twitching erratically as it slowly softened. She felt the warm sensation of his sticky semen trickling down between her bottom cheeks, tickling her, and she clenched her buttocks playfully as if trying to catch it before it escaped.
"Oh David that was wonderful" April whispered, "I do love you darling."
"I love you too" he told her, smiling into her loving eyes.
The fire flickered and crackled sending ghostly shadows around the otherwise dimly lit room. Even in her state of loving ecstasy, as April watched the fascinating light show coming from the fire she couldn't help thinking that was some sort of supernatural magic that somehow held within it her future.