Cauldron of Fear (13 page)

'All right,'
she agreed. 'As long as it's not more than a shilling.'

The water in
the stream was bitterly cold, but Sarah did not care. Under the
watchful eyes of four of the handlers she joined a group of eight
other girls, all freed temporarily from their bondage in order that
they might wash themselves in the swirling current, splashing
themselves thoroughly to remove dust and mud and, in Sarah's case,
the smears of blood and dried semen that had stained her thighs by
the time Ross had returned her to the main group of slaves.

He had then,
apparently, lost all interest in her, turning her over to another
handler, a balding older fellow named Travis who, to Sarah's
horror, seemed to be very fond of applying his crop across the
girls' naked rumps for no other reason than his own enjoyment. She
received half a dozen random cuts herself, before the girls were
finally allowed to rest and then brought to the stream to perform
their ablutions.

Alongside
Sarah, a girl of about her own age was cupping water and allowing
it to splash over her large breasts and, despite herself, Sarah
found herself watching her out of the corner of her eye. After
about a minute the other girl noticed her interest and grinned.

'Not many of
these to the stone, eh?' she laughed, but keeping her voice low and
her eyes mostly fixed on the running water.

Sarah felt
herself going red. 'I - I'm sorry,' she began, but the girl made a
shushing noise.

'Keep your
voice down,' she warned. 'We're not really supposed to talk to each
other, and if they hear us,' she added, with a jerk of her head to
indicate where the four men stood talking in a group at the top of
the grassy bank, 'they'll like as not string us up and give us a
good thrashing.'

'Have - have
you been here long?' Sarah asked, scooping up water and throwing it
back over her own breasts. She cast a furtive glance backwards, but
their minders seemed little concerned with the bathing party, and
the general noise of the water and the bathers splashing about
would mask any whispered conversation.

'A few days,'
the other girl replied. 'You only arrived last night?'

'Yes, I'm
Sarah Merridew, by the way. What's your name?'

'Miranda,' the
girl grinned, 'but here they call me Kitty. Titty Kitty.' She
sniggered. 'I reckon you can guess why, eh?'

'But that's so
degrading!' Sarah exclaimed. 'Don't you hate it?'

'What's in a
name?' she retorted. 'And anyway, same as you seemed to notice,
they are big and, with luck, they might save me from being shipped
off to some foreign hellhole. Master Adam seems to have taken a bit
of a fancy to me and my dugs!'

'Who's Master
Adam?' Sarah asked.

'Only one of
the big nobs around here,' Kitty said. 'He's not actually the top
man, but he ain't far off it and he's hung like a donkey and
handsome with it. I could do a lot worse, lovey, believe me. I'm
playing up to him for all I'm worth.'

'I can't
believe they really intend to sell us off like cattle,' Sarah
whispered.

'Not cattle,
dearie,' she said. 'We fetch a lot more than cows.'

'But we get
treated no better,' Sarah retorted indignantly. 'One of the
bastards took me off, fixed me down in some frame thing and then
just had his way with me, like I was a brood mare, or something. I
still can't quite believe how callous it all was.' Neither, she
reflected, could she quite believe how she had reacted, writhing
and groaning in the heat of the perpetual stream of orgasms Ross's
thrusting pole and devilish hands had induced in her.

'You have to
get used to that sort of thing,' Kitty replied, almost
nonchalantly. 'Whatever becomes of us if and when we leave here,
one thing's for certain; we're intended for regular rogering, not
for our wit and conversation.'

'That's just
so horrid!' Sarah was beginning to shiver again and her legs,
immersed in the stream up to her shapely knees, were starting to
feel numb. She ducked her head into the swirling current and shook
it, resurfacing with a gasp.

'I think,' she
said, as she spat droplets and snorted water from her nostrils,
'that I'd rather drown myself here and now - only I don't think I
have the courage for that.'

'Well, where
there's life, as they say,' Kitty murmured. 'And given the choice
between killing myself and getting soundly fucked every few hours,
I know what I'd choose!'

The Billings's cottage was set to one side of George
Billings's workshop, on the eastern side of the green, some half a
mile from the crossroads where the
Black
Drum
stood. The two women had to cross one
edge of the open space and they were halfway across before Harriet
looked up to see the bizarre figure at the stake set in the centre,
some seventy or eighty yards away.

'By all that's
holy!' she exclaimed, halting in horror. 'What foul business is
this?' She started to turn towards the naked display, but Anne
grasped her arm and drew her back.

''Tis better
not to venture over there, Miss Harriet,' she whispered urgently,
looking around as if scared that she might be overheard. ''Tis
claimed that she's a witch and the witchfinder is purging her.
Anyone goes near, folks may get to thinking they're in league with
her and they'll end up just like that, too.'

'What stupid
nonsense!' Harriet retorted, but she held back, staring in
disbelieving fascination. Suddenly the rumours she'd heard the day
before came flooding back and she realised who the poor victim was.
'That's Matilda Pennywise!' she gasped, and Anne nodded. 'But
Matilda Pennywise is no witch! If the fools had accused her
grandmother, then maybe I could understand it for the old woman has
some peculiar ways, but not Matilda. What have they done to her? My
God, but that's barbaric - and what has she on her feet?'

'I heard tell
earlier that they're called Penitent Boots,' Anne replied.

'Penitent
Boots?' Harriet said. 'Yes, I've heard tell of them, but they
haven't been seen nor used in more years than the two of us have
been on this earth put together, probably longer. And that's a
scold's bridle - I thought they were outlawed more than a hundred
years since.'

'Apparently
not,' Anne said quietly. 'According to what the witchfinder fellow
told people earlier, iron shackles a witch's powers and weakens
her. Once she's properly drained of her evil powers she's to be
flogged, so they say.'

'Oh, the poor
wretched girl!' Harriet cried. 'What agonies she must be suffering.
We can't just leave her there, surely?'

'We'd best do
just exactly that, miss,' Anne said, 'unless you fancy suffering
the same fate as she, which I most certainly don't. The way I hear
it, people are already starting to make wild accusations about
others just to protect their own hides. No point in drawing
attention on ourselves, I say.'

Harriet turned
to her, about to argue the point, but stopped when she saw the look
of sheer horror in Anne's eyes. The shoemaker's wife had a point,
she had to concede, for she was only too well aware that ignorance
could be fanned into suspicion and hatred by the simplest and most
innocent of gestures. Visions of herself tied to a stake, her most
intimate secrets bared for all to see, swam before her eyes.
Besides, she reasoned, she had problems of her own to deal with and
she would be of no help to her cousin Sarah if she herself became
embroiled in something she could as easily avoid by walking
away.

'Master
Handiwell will have something to say about this cruel folly when he
returns,' she muttered, 'but for now, perhaps you are right, Anne.
Let's deal with one problem at a time.'

Sarah was
surprised when Ross handed her over to the older Adam, who slipped
leashes to her collar and Kitty's and led both girls off into the
depths of the huge barn. They padded along in his wake, side by
side, exchanging glances behind his back but not daring to say so
much as a word to each other, as he drew them through the long
passageway that bisected the building and then turned into one of
the partitioned rooms at the farther end.

'His Lordship
has a special guest for dinner this evening,' Adam said, closing
the door behind them, 'and special guests get special
entertainments. In this case, the special entertainment is you
two.' Kitty and Sarah stood stiffly, their wrists once again
strapped to their harnesses, their damp hair hanging down their
naked backs.

'For tonight's
little performance you will be rather differently dressed,' Adam
continued, 'but for now, we'll just have an undressed rehearsal.
Sarah, or whatever your name is, get your legs further apart and
stand straighter, or I'll put an elbow brace on you.'

Without
thinking, Sarah moved to obey, sliding her feet to the side and
drawing back her shoulders, so that her breasts jutted even
further. Adam nodded.

'Better,' he
said curtly. 'Now, Titty Kitty, let's have you on your knees in
front of her.' He grasped Kitty by her collar, thrusting her
downwards to emphasise the order, and with a startled whimper she
dropped to the floor.

'Now,' Adam
said, 'you can get that little Kitty tongue of yours busy on this
slut's cunt. Find her nubbin and work her good and thoroughly. I
want to see her wriggling like an eel, but be warned...' he took
his crop from his belt and jabbed the end into the valley between
Sarah's breasts, '...one movement of either foot and I'll whip your
arse with this, understand?'

'Yessir!' The
words tumbled from Sarah's lips instinctively, even though the
prospect of what was about to happen was so appalling to her, to
have another woman touch her down there, let alone with her mouth.
But then the alternative, of being thrashed by the powerful
overseer, was even worse. Adam grinned at her.

'Don't look so
damned horror-struck, girl,' he said. 'It's not so bad and probably
just as good as having young Ross's prick up you. Oh yes,' he
laughed, seeing the look of surprise register on her face, 'I know
all about that. I followed the pair of you earlier, just to see how
you'd react.

'Ross has a
slightly crude technique and a girl can hardly resist in those
stocks, but it's usually a fair indication of what a wench is made
of. From where I stood, you ended up riding him as much as he was
riding you. Ever had a tongue in your pussy?'

'No, master.'
Sarah lowered her eyes, blushing.

'Well, if Kitty doesn't do a good job on you, then maybe I'll
have to do it myself, eh? Mind you, Kitty, if
I
have to tongue the slut, I'll lace
your hide with a few stripes. Now get going, girl. Let's see how
good - or otherwise - you really are.'

Kitty leaned
forward and Sarah instinctively drew her hips back, but was
rewarded instantly by a sharp cut across her rump from the swishing
crop. She let out a startled yelp, although the blow had not been
as hard as it might have been and her body arched forwards again,
thrusting her sex straight into Kitty's hungry mouth.

Immediately
the big breasted girl's lips closed on her, tongue thrusting into
her warm slit and then, as it located her swelling clitoris,
clamping onto it with a ferocious suction that sent a column of
fire shooting throughout Sarah's body.

'No-o-oo!' she
groaned, but another light tap from Adam's crop kept her thrusting
forward, pushing harder still into the hot mouth. At the same
moment Kitty began to squirm forward on her knees, arching her back
and neck until she was almost beneath her target.

'Press down,
slut!' Adam barked, and pressed on Sarah's shoulder to reinforce
the command. Sarah felt her knees weakening and her weight settled
onto Kitty's face, but rather than distracting the kneeling girl
this seemed to serve only to encourage her to redouble her
efforts.

Her probing
tongue flickered in and out, her lips sucked thirstily on the
juices her attentions were stimulating, and Sarah could only stand,
splay-legged and wide-eyed, unable to believe either what was being
done to her nor the effect it was having on her.

'Tongue fuck
the little bitch,' Adam chuckled. Then, to Sarah, 'Grind those hips
girlie, and start looking like you're really enjoying
yourself.'

'Please,
m-master,' Sarah stammered, but the rest of what she was trying to
say became lost in a gurgling babble, as he moved behind her and
cupped his hands around in front to toy with her breasts.

'Not as big as
Kitty,' Adam whispered, his mouth nuzzling Sarah's ear, 'but nice
and firm and such lovely teats.' His fingers and thumbs rolled her
nipples together and another wave of desperate lust swept over her.
She heard him chuckle again and writhed in her bonds, but now her
writhings were less an attempt to get free than a reflexive
response.

Suddenly a new
sensation; she felt the rigid heat pressing up between her
buttocks, the head of Adam's burgeoning erection probing for that
other orifice, and automatically she clenched her muscles,
determined to resist this final humiliation. But in the moment of
ultimate struggle, a scream tore upwards from her stomach, as
Kitty's cunning ministrations brought the reward of a first orgasm
and, as any thoughts of focus or concentration were banished in the
same instant, to her horror Sarah felt the pulsing phallus
beginning to penetrate her.

Anne Billings
brought chalk and a flat piece of board from her husband's
workshop, laying the latter across the top of the crude kitchen
table.

'You'll mebbe
think me presumptuous, Miss Harriet,' she said, 'but I'll draw you
a chart as best I can and that'll make things easier for you to
understand.'