The Witch-Finder Major

The woman stood shivering, stripped to bare skin. The Witch-finder Major walked around the woman, the remains of her dark hair wet from the dousing of ice-cold water and the savagery of shaving she had to endure. She had been taken that night, under the cover of darkness from her home. She had been dragged to the rooms of John Stearne. In one corner, a four-post bed, a chair, and a s simple desk. Her late husband, Corporal Matthew Goode of the New Model Army, had died during the battle of Nasby, along with her sixteen-year-old son. Only Mary, her twenty-one-year-old daughter, remained in Hannah's life. Although until the Witch-finder arrived was promised in marriage. There was no one else to vouchsafe her and now, the town's people looked upon her with suspicion.

John Stearne, the self-styled Witchfinder Major, newly compensated by the town's levy had silver shillings in his purse and a mission to fulfil. It had been an easy task to find one such as Hannah. She was attractive, despite her middle age. There was enough gossip to throw doubt on Hannah's character and immediately, Stearne had settled on this woman.

Now she was in the power of the Witchfinder.

He stopped and looked intently at the livid red welts that had risen on her skin, easily seen through her fingers that failed to cover her sex and the results of the rough shaving that had been forced upon her by Stearne's accomplices. The two rough-hewn henchmen stood back, one holding a razor, a bowl of soaped water and a stained towel, stained with Hannah's blood from the nicks and cuts on her body. He grasped hold of her arm and pulled it away from the cleft of her cunny.

"Stand still spawn of Satan," John Stearne hissed as she looked down at her cunny, "Keep thy hands above thy head," The woman complied, her shuddering continuing. The Witch-finder Major then leaned forward to examine the stiffened nubs of her breasts, although he was looking intently for signs of the devil, a devil's mark that told him of her loyalty to the Dark Lord and how he would take her, ravage her cunny and sin with her. The poor wretch stood as her firm, pert breasts pointed upward, although she was of middle age, they did not sag.

John Stearne looked closely and then with cruel fingers tweaked each nipple sharply, to see if blood would come or if she would scream. Either event would spell her death.

Hannah Goode made no sound and no blood came.

Stearne then slid his hand down to her hairless cunny and felt inside her cleft. Her skin was cold but her cunny was warm and in his black breeches, John Stearne's prick twitched and stiffened. He looked to the two 'sergeants', with large straight blades, late of the New Model Army, at their belts,

"Leave this bitch with me, I shall examine her for the marks of Old Nick, hand me the pricking needle and shut the door!" The two men smirked but followed his instructions rapidly, "But bring the other witch to me and set her bound and gagged by the door and call upon me in the morning and not before!"

As they shut the door, they listened to the thick wooden panels. The two men looked at each other, wondering whether to make their way back to the tavern or wait for the Major, but in post-civil war England, in 1645 the fenlands and East Anglia was gripped with the fear of witchcraft. After the levy had paid for his services, the good people of England waited to be saved by men such as The Witch-Fonder General, Matthew Hopkins and John Stearne. The men decided to wait with an ale in the tavern, as this night may drag on.

As Hannah Goode stood, with her hands tied by noose rope hanging from a sturdy iron hook, placed there by his men, in the rafter above her head, she was completely in the power of John Stearne.

"Now, confess thy shameful pact with Beelzebub, and I shall grant thy a swift drop from this rope but at least thy soul will be forgiven and if God pleases, you shall go to him," Stearne spoke softly, as he 'examined' her further. His hand found the cleft of her buttocks and rubbed her twitching bunghole. He probed it with his finger, and it gave way under his pressure. Next, he grasped both her breasts and squeezed her flesh, until she squirmed and struggled.

"Please, sir.." She mumbled, Stearne's rough touch caused her to twist and turn, but she couldn't escape her tormentor.

"Please..is that what you asked of Satan, witch?" Stearne smiled, and mauled her with greater interest, "Your witch marks are hidden but my pricking needle will seek them out. Shall I start with one of these stiff nubs!" Stearne grasped her nipple and squeezed it hard. Hannah groaned and sought to pull away. She immediately became aware of the stink of sweat on her body.

"I am no witch Sir, how can I prove to you that I am not in league with the Dark Lord?" Hannah plumped up her courage to ask. Stearne shifted himself as his own prick was now at half-mast.

"I am strong with the Lord and I know the witch's tricks. I could save thee!" Stearne readied himself to offer his price for her freedom.

"I will do what thy ask of me!" Hannah slumped in submission, not knowing what she would be demanded of her but now willing.

"My strength is the Lord and if thou suffers my prick's attention, it will show thy hast a good honest soul. If thou fails to show thy effort, thou are surely damned." Stearne reached up and slipped the rope from the hook, but kept her hands bound, "If thee performs well, I shall petition the magistrates and pronounce thy innocence," Otherwise, I might be forced to examine thy daughter. Surely a witch would initiate her daughter in the work of the devil, I think her young body will have the witch's mark!" His breath was sour from wine or ale. The threat was clumsy, and Stearne had every intention of examining the young girl, perhaps even making her mother watch. He thought of the pleasures he would have, having the mother aid him in debauching her daughter to save their skins from the noose.

"Oh, please Sir, I beg of you, do not harm my daughter!" Hannah looked up at him, "What dost thou want of me?" Stearne retied her hands behind her back, set her upon her knees and then undid the belt at his breeches. His prick flopped out before her eyes.

"Thou hast known a man so you have suckled on a prick before," He pulled out his stiffening shaft, now large and swollen and Hannah looked at the purple head and began to kiss the glans and lick it. She could taste the salt of his wetness and remembered how Matthew had taken her on her wedding night. She had been a virgin, full of nerves but pent-up desire to touch him, and feel him inside her. However, Matthew had instructed her on how to suck his prick and lick his ball sack. Matthew had soldiered, for the now defeated King Charles, in his youth and had been serviced by whores, while on the campaigns and so upon his return to England expected his new wife to follow his instruction and show his prick the same loving attention.

Now she showed John Stearne the measure of her experience.

Stearne had enjoyed his fair share of whores, but he smiled as Hannah's tongue licked up and down his shaft and then swallowed his bulbous head in her mouth, "Yes, show your proper respect for God's chosen agent upon his earth," He muttered and grasped the back of Hannah's shaved locks and pushed her head down upon his stiffness. Hannah, remembering how Matthew would force her mouth on his prick each morning, was expecting Stearnes' hands upon her and had worked her throat open to manage the prick. Although she gagged loudly in it, Stearne tensed his hips and began to thrust himself into her throat. Hannah allowed him to thrust so, wishing that his excitement would result in his seed being spilt, as Matthew's often did in the early mornings before he set off for the fields. He had taught her to swallow his seed each morning and then be prepared for his return with open legs and a wet cunny.

Hannah squeezed her eyes shut, recalling the instruction of her husband on how to relax her throat and take his prick as far as she could. Matthew had been two inches longer than Starne and so could manage him somewhat and once she felt the familiar twitching, she thanked God that Stearne would convulse soon and fill her belly with his seed.

Stearne looked down at the woman suckling him and within minutes of her careful ministrations had coaxed him to the brink and then all at once his body tensed violently, twisted and ejaculated down into the woman's mouth, "Swallow my beauty, swallow my godly seed and cleanse any evil from thee!" He muttered as she swallowed, again and again, taking as much as she could. Stearne shuddered and staggered back and then crumpled to the ground, their eyes closed in exquisite rapture. His senses were assaulted with the smell of his musky semen and saw a white stream dribble down from the corner of her mouth and fall onto her naked breast.

Hannah remained on her knees and watched Stearne recover his senses, hoping that she would have satisfied him so that her release would be forthcoming.

She was not released. As she looked at Stearne scrambling to his feet and belting his beeches again, a curt knock on the door, heralded the arrival of Mary, brought by his henchmen.

Stearne had other plans for her and her daughter, Mary.

End of Chapter One.