The Witching Hour

"My child, I would like to ask something of thee," Hannah said in her quaint dialect.

Elizabeth gazed at her pretty face. She felt so close to her, just like her own mother.

"Yes, Hannah?"

Hannah reached across and untied the bonnet keeping Elizabeth's hair tightly confined. Her hands loosened the rich curls, and spread the golden tresses over her shoulders. Hannah stayed close to Elizabeth, looking into her eyes and tracing her finger under her chin.

"Tell me, daughter, are you looking forward to getting married?"

"Oh yes!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I'm 18 now. It is time I started looking for a husband."

"Well you are very beautiful, my child. Do you not think so?"

Elizabeth blushed. "I do not know. Seth has told me so."

"Who is Seth?"

"He's a boy I sometimes walk with. He lives over there, on his parents' farm."

"And have you ever let Seth touch you, or kiss you?"

"No, Mistress. Father and mother said I must not do so until I am wedded."

"Do you know, my child, what happens between a man and a wife?"

Elizabeth blushed a deep red.

"Have you ever wondered?"

Hannah's voice was so soothing to Elizabeth, her hands felt so soft and wonderful as they caressed her face, and it was so . . . thrilling to be able to talk about such things with another soul.

"Yes," whispered Elizabeth. "In my bedroom, alone at night, sometimes, I think about Fath—my parents."

"Your father, my child?"

"My father and my dear sweet mother. I sometimes . . . heard them . . . at nighttime."

Elizabeth sighed with the freedom of opening her thoughts to such a kind woman. She loved Hannah. She moved closer and let Hannah rub her shoulders and caress her neck and face as they talked.

"Now, my child, I will tell thee. In my . . . religion . . . where I come from . . . we do not have the same . . . rules about discussing such things as I find here. Does it bother you to talk about such matters?"

"No!" Elizabeth said, quickly. She had no mother now, no sisters, and no friends close by.

Hannah ran her hand down the front of Elizabeth's dress, gently touching and caressing.

"You are very beautiful, my daughter. May I kiss thee? May I show you how a man kisses a woman, how a husband will kiss thee someday?"

Elizabeth nodded. Her breasts were tingling in that same way they did during prayer hour.

She closed her eyes as Hannah's soft lips just touched her own, and felt a deep warmth spread through her body. Oh! She loved her!

"Elizabeth, my dear," Hannah said. "Does this make you feel good?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Do you want more?"

Again Elizabeth nodded.

"Then you must tell me. What do you think about at night, in bed, when alone?"

Elizabeth whispered, "Can I really tell you, Hannah?"

"Why yes, my daughter. Tell me everything."

Elizabeth seemed quite pained to confess the truth to her friend. "I think about Father, only my father!"

"Yes, child, go on. You may tell me everything."

"I think about . . . his lips. I imagine him kissing my mother. I picture his hands and his shoulders. I think about the sounds I would sometimes hear him make with mother!"

"My child, it is getting late, but I will ask you one more thing. Do you ever think about thy Father's naked flesh? About what he has between his legs?"

Elizabeth blushed so deeply Hannah could see her red face even in the deep gloom of the forest.

"Yes Hannah. I think it pleased my mother very much, because of the way I would hear her cry out for him."

"Oh? Well we do not have any more time today, my lovely Elizabeth. Will you continue this conversation with me? Do you like talking to me?"

"Oh, yes!" Elizabeth exclaimed, holding her hand. "Oh please do not leave me. I so look forward to our talks."

"Then I will see thee soon, child. And we will continue. Good night, sweet daughter of the forest."

+++

A few days later, Elizabeth was sitting and talking to old Mistress Mary, and helping her with her knitting.

"Mistress Mary, you know everyone in town, do you not?"

"Yes, my dear. Everyone."

"And do you know Hannah Goode?"

"Goode? The Goodes are my old friends, but there is no Hannah."

"Why yes, ma'am, she is in town visiting her aunt, with her husband."

"What are you talking about?" Mary snapped at her. "Don't you think I know everything that goes on outside my window? Esther has not mentioned it to me, and besides, she has no nieces or nephews!"

"Well there must be another Goode family, ma'am."

"No, child. Where do you get these silly notions?"

"Why, I know her. I met her in the woods, on my walks home."

At this Mistress Mary tossed aside her knitting, and grabbed Elizabeth's hand. "What did you say?"

"I met her. I know her. She is a . . . friend. And a sweet, good friend she is."

"Child, you must answer me, truthfully! You have met this lady in the woods? At night?"

"Yes, Mary. Many times."

"Oh, oh, oh, you must listen to me, child! That must be, it can only be . . . I told you, the Sabbath!"

"What are you talking about?" Elizabeth cried. Mary was frightening her again.

"There are no Hannah Goodes in this town! You must be talking to a spirit!"

"Oh, no, she is real," Elizabeth said, blushing, remembering her kisses. . .

"Dear, I beg you, I beseech you, do not go into the woods anymore. You mustn't! You must avoid them until the pass of All Hallow's Eve!"

"But I can't! And . . . I don't want to! I like her, Mary. She is . . . kind to me. She . . ." Again Elizabeth blushed.

Mary peered very sharply at her. The old Mistress had a keen eye, and she had been noticing a certain glow about Elizabeth lately. It scared her to the bottom of her soul!

"Young maids such as yourself have no business talking to older women. And especially strange women, in the Fields, at night! You must stop this!"

"No!" cried Elizabeth. "I won't! She talks to me. She likes me. And . . . I love her!"

At this Mary screamed, and covered her white hair with her claw-like hands. "No more! No more! I will hear no more of this! Out! Get out of my house, and do not come back!"

Elizabeth panicked! She could not give up this position. What would she do? If she didn't have Mary to attend, she'd have to take up work at the Townsend farm again, and never have time to visit the woods!

"Oh, Mistress, I am sorry! I will stop. I was misled. I promise you, ma'am." She started crying. "Please don't send me away, please!"

"Then tell me no more of this! And I am going to speak to your father. Yes, child," she said, seeing the look on her young charge's face. "Tomorrow, or you are welcome here no more."

"Oh no, please, please do not tell Papa," Elizabeth cried, hysterical. She did not know why this disturbed her so much. Papa must not know about her meetings in the woods! He simply must not know! Elizabeth got down on her knees and begged old Mary not to say anything.

"I promise you, Mary, I promise. I was a wicked girl. I will be good from now on, and never talk to strange women again, as long as you do not tell my Father!"

Mary saw how distraught she was, and relented. "Calm down, child, calm down. Perhaps you did not know any better."

"No, Mary. She has never been anything but nice and kind to me."

"That is how they seduce you, my dear! You have been taken in! But you better run along now, it is getting very late. I will see you tomorrow."

Elizabeth ran out of the house. It was now fully dark, and she still had the walk home.

She didn't know why, but she had a feeling Hannah would not be in the woods tonight, and this filled her with terror. She entered the path clutching her crucifix. She knew Mary had to be wrong, but . . . what if she wasn't? What if she had been talking to a spirit! Oh she needed to get home. What had gotten into her? She had let herself get carried away, trusting this stranger! Letting her kiss her, and touch her like that! But it was almost as if she had been enchanted. She could not stop herself. She craved her meetings with Hannah!

As she entered the gloomy forest, pure terror grasped her by the throat. Perhaps she should take the roads. But it was so dark! And this way was straight, and quick. She should just walk, as quickly as she could, to get home!

But as she neared the top of a hill, she saw, then, a flash of red, and the panic and terror began to subside. Hannah was there, after all! Or . . . was she? What was she doing?

Elizabeth walked slowly towards the clearing. It was pitch black in the forest now, except for the light of the full moon. She saw movement, and heard noises, voices. More than one. She crept closer and closer. She could see Hannah's cloak glinting red in the moonlight. But she was with someone. Who was it?

Just then the clouds parted and the full strength of the harvest moon shone down into the forest, lighting up a scene that Elizabeth would never forget. She instantly ducked down behind a bush to hide . . . and watch.

It was Hannah. She was kneeling, down on her knees by a tree. Standing and leaning against the tree, turned away so Elizabeth could not see his face, was a man in a white shirt and dark-colored breeches. He had a hat or some kind of jacket pulled over his head.

The man's huge, engorged member was in Hannah's hands. It was the first time Elizabeth had ever seen such a thing. It was gigantic, or so it seemed to her. She could not tear her eyes away! It was thick, and long, and shining in the moonlight. It curved upwards in a beautiful arc, and Hannah was moaning as she held it. Her Hannah! Her beautiful face. Her big dark eyes, her soft red lips. They were opened and her tongue was lasciviously licking this swollen object. Over and over she ran her tongue up and down, as the man moaned and touched her hair. Elizabeth strained her eyes in the darkness to see everything! She could see the man's heavy, full sacs hanging straight down below. . . Hannah was touching them and caressing them. And at the top of that long shaft, Elizabeth saw a ridged sort of cap, swollen and pulsing in the moonlight. She watched as Hannah moaned, loudly, and took it in her mouth . . . and looked right at Elizabeth as she did so. Hannah gazed into her eyes as she gulped the top of that glistening shaft into her mouth and began to suck, as if she was showing Elizabeth. . . how to do it. Yes, this was why she had arranged this scene. To show her how to swallow that thing!

Elizabeth jumped up with a harsh cry and fled. She ran all the way home, as fast as she could to get away from that strange and terrible vision!

+++

She arrived panting and crying at the door of her father's house, so distraught she did not have the strength to take out her key and use it, but just as she was about to collapse in exhaustion, her dear Papa opened the door.

"Oh, Father! Father!" Elizabeth exclaimed as she threw herself into his arms.

"What is it, child? Hush, there, there."

Elizabeth cried and held onto his chest. She rarely touched her father, but she needed his strength and protection now. Oh! That tremendous shiny thing! Why was the man moaning, and gasping, and clutching Hannah's head? She felt so frightened! But at the same time, the tingling in her body was so strong! Tingles and throbs and tremors coursing up and down, into her most private place, where Hannah had touched her the other day! She didn't understand what was happening to her! She held tightly onto her father, taking comfort in his calm presence. She felt him, at last, caress her hair. His warm, strong, tanned hands soothing her felt so good.

"Oh, Father! I have been so bad, so wicked!"

"Hush, come inside, child."

Her Papa led her into the common room, in front of the fire, and fixed Elizabeth a mug of hot tea. He added into it some herbs Anne had shown him once, to calm and soothe and help induce sleep.

Andrew sat in his comfortable chair before the fire. "Drink this, child, and tell me what is wrong."

Elizabeth gulped down the strong tea and immediately felt warmth and calm spread into her limbs. Oh, she could never tell Papa what she had seen, never!

"In the Witches' Woods, tonight, I thought I heard . . . voices! Oh it scared me so, Father"

"What have you been doing there, my child?"

"Nothing, Papa! Just walking home from work. It's just, it was so late tonight . . . and I was alone, and so frightened!"

Elizabeth dropped to the floor in front of Andrew's feet and burst into tears, and clung to his hands.

"Hush, Elizabeth. You are all right."

He stroked Elizabeth's beautiful blonde curls, even as he felt his member stirring again with the nearness of her body. Her trembling arms were clutching his thighs.

Elizabeth felt the effects of her mother's herbs in her drink. They were making her so drowsy, and she was so disturbed and distraught. She lay her head down on her father's lap and let him caress her.

"Father . . ." Elizabeth said, dreamily, "Do you miss our dear mother's flesh? Her body, Papa? Would you like to see my body? Could I show you, like mother?" She was nearly asleep as she said these words, which would have horrified her if she had been in her right mind.

Andrew felt his prick swell absurdly in his tight breeches. He pulled his daughter off him and carried her heavy body upstairs. She was now fast asleep. He deposited her on the bed and covered her in a blanket, and gazed at her a moment before hurrying outside.

As soon as Andrew got into the woodshed attached to the house he unbuttoned the fly of his heavy breeches. His thick, swollen cock was on the point of bursting at the thought of seeing Elizabeth's trembling, virginal young body, her large breasts with the hint of red nipples he had seen, her wild blonde hair spread around her! Such wickedness! But his prick was near to exploding! The Pastor tried to think of Anne. He thought of Anne in the position she favored, on her hands and knees like an animal before him, spreading herself wide to show him her juicy pink cunt! Would his own daughter's cunt be as heavenly as her mother's? Andrew groaned loudly as a tremendous spurt of thick hot cum shot out of his prick, spraying the woodpile, shooting stream after stream, making him dizzy with guilty, horrible pleasure. This must not be!

He must use the signal. Tonight. He must talk to the women. He must get out of the house and away from his tender, sweet Elizabeth asleep upstairs.

Andrew tucked his still throbbing prick into his breeches and headed out to the fields behind the house. He lit a small fire and used some torches to make a deliberate "X" in the direction of the woods.

"What am I doing?" this religious man thought to himself. "What am I doing? I must surely be going to hell!"

Andrew waited, and waited, and before long, he saw a single lone figure come out of the dark woods. It was heavily cloaked, and beckoned him near.

As he neared the figure, he made an "X" with his hands, and when close, knealt down and kissed the hem of the robe.

"Mistress."

The strange, high-pitched, breathy voice, like a human snake, issued from deep within the cloak.

"Pastor, I hope you have a good reason for summoning me. I do not usually consort with the unclean, as you still are."

"Mistress. I beg you! I cannot wait any longer! You must tell me when!"

"Is that all, human? You disgust me. You are too much of a man. You cannot control that cock of yours. Stand up."

Andrew stood up, taking care to lower his eyes.

"I will tell you now, human, and then I do not wish to be bothered. Could you not figure it out? You are stupid, like all men. But she loves you, so I am here to tell you in two weeks, on All Hallow's Eve. Do not disappoint us!"

"Mistress, I will not. But who is 'she?' To whom do you refer?"

The cloaked figure hissed under her breath, "Yes, stupid, like all men."

+++

Elizabeth had no idea how long or how deeply she slept. She only remembered her dreams . . . running after Hannah in the forest . . . her Father chasing her in the forest . . . She slept and slept through the next day, missing her chores and only waking when the bright noon sun shone through the bedroom window.

Oh! As soon as she awoke, Hannah felt the tingling and ache in her body. Her first thought was of that huge throbbing prick! She knew that's what it was called. A prick, or a phallus, or a cock! She couldn't get it out of her mind. Her body was aching and aching. She reached down and slid her wicked hand between her legs and writhed and twisted on the bed. If only mother were here! If only she could talk to mother!

She must see Hannah! She simply could not wait to see Hannah! But it was so late. She would have to wait until tomorrow.

Elizabeth got up and wondered where Father had gone. She got something to eat and cleaned the cozy little Manse and put on a stew for Father when he got home.

She changed into a pretty dress, so excited to see Papa today. She vaguely remembered laying her head in his lap last night, and crying, and whispering things to him. What had she whispered, before he carried her up to bed? She could not remember.

Finally she heard the horses, and ran to the door.

"Father! I have missed you."

Andrew kissed his daughter on the cheek, touching her arm and trailing his hand down to her waist. "It is all right, daughter. I am home."

"Oh Father, I slept all through the day."

"I let you sleep, Elizabeth, you were very frightened last night. You needed your rest."

"Yes, Father," Elizabeth said, enjoying the feel of his hands on her body. "I don't know what happened. I let my imagination get the better of me."

"Well you are safe, child. And I trust you are well enough to return to work tomorrow?"

"Yes, dear Papa, I am." At the thought of going to the woods the next day, Elizabeth felt a trembling, eager excitement in her belly.

"Then let us eat this delicious supper you have prepared."

As they ate quietly in the soft glow of the fire, Andrew avoided looking at his daughter.

"Child, I am going to be quite busy in the next few days. You have heard of the problems going on in the village?"

"You mean the witches?" Elizabeth whispered.

Andrew nodded. "Yes, daughter. They are going to be drowned, the day after tomorrow."

"Drowned!"

"Yes, daughter, and I must go and help them."

"But Father, I thought you said they were evil, and must be punished. Haven't they cursed us with this plague?"

"No, child, I was quite wrong to tell you such things. I did not know any better . . . then."

"But aren't they wicked women?"

"No. They are just poor, lonely women with no one to help them. I must be the one to do it. Daughter, I had a vision . . ."

"Yes, Papa?"

"Your sweet mother. She came and whispered to me, in a dream, last night. She said I must take pity on these poor souls."

Elizabeth knew then that it must be true. "So then, are there such things as witches, Papa?"

Andrew looked at his daughter and lied. "No, child. No, there are not."

+++

The very next day, Elizabeth found it hard to concentrate on her chores in Mary's house. She was so looking forward to seeing Hannah. When dusk came, she practically ran into the forest, her body excited and trembling. She burst with joy when she saw Hannah's red cloak. But soon after, she saw that Hannah was not alone. She held back, frightened, and watched two figures draw near. It was a tall man, in a white linen shirt, dark breeches, and a heavy dark cloak. He had startling black eyes, close cropped black hair and a nicely trimmed beard, and a mischievous smile on his face. Hannah knew at once that this was the man she had seen two nights previously. She blushed dark red on every inch of her body, and immediately dropped her gaze.

"Daughter, do not be ashamed. Come," said Hannah, with a smile. "Come with us."