The Magistrate�s Dilemma

by Donna M.

 

�Fetch my satchel, Peter, and be quick about it.�

�Yes, Magistrate,� he replied.  Samuel Miskoe was not to be ignored, or a price would be paid.  He was big man, and a gruff man at most times; his present temperament made more acerbic by the latest reports.

�Witches!� he said to no one, shaking his head as he did so, as if simply saying the word brought a curse to its speaker.  �First Salem Village and now here,� he mumbled, thinking that however capable the new, young constable appeared to be, he was woefully unprepared for this nonsense.  �For the love of God, it is but simple games being played by wretched young girls, and the whole village bathes in fear.�

�Thou were speaking to me, Sir?� his scribe, Peter Smythe asked from the next room.

�No, no, just thinking aloud�thinking aloud,� he answered.  Wasn�t speaking to one�s self considered a sign of the Devil?  He would seek Reverend Grout�s counsel on that question; though, he thought, why would any man seek sane counsel from the daft Reverend and his mostly hysterical ramblings?

After Peter retrieved the Magistrate�s satchel, Miskoe removed the latest transcribed witchcraft reports from within.  Two young ladies, girls really, seemed to have brought things to a boil in his village.  Abigail and Margaret were their names.  Most of the reports were contradictory, and patently ridiculous.  Reverend Grout had proffered his assessment�witches, of course�but the Magistrate would see for himself.

�Peter.  Please have these two summoned here.  I wish to speak with them, get to the bottom of this silly witchcraft talk before we end up with unnecessary Court proceedings and a gruesome gallows defacing the village square.�

�Yes, sir.�

When the young scrivener returned, he was accompanied by Constable Pruitt and two rather buxom young lasses.  Magistrate Miskoe grew impatient with the girls since they took no measure of solemnity in his questioning, laughing and tittering like magpies throughout.

�Constable,� said Miskoe.  �Have thee not explained the gravity of the situation to them?�

�Yes, sir.  I have indeed,� answered the young officer of the law.  �I explained that their last wish had better NOT be to answer such questions in an open session of Court, Magistrate.�

Miskoe turned to the girls, his scowl causing them to sober somewhat.  �Witchcraft is the most serious of transgressions.  Ye have been identified by village folk as witches.  Is it understood that is why ye art here before me?�

�Yes, my Lord,� Abigail said.

Miskoe wondered if she was toying with him.  �I am not a Lord, but a humble magistrate.  However, I consider myself a fair, impartial judge of character, and in that regard, Court is one place thou decidedly do not want to appear to answer charges of being a witch?�

�Yes, my L�Sir,� the shier Margaret said, hardly above a whisper.

Magistrate Miskoe easily observed that both girls had been well endowed by their Creator with very large bosoms.  They were wearing simple petticoats over linen shifts, and the well-worn undergarments, at least above their waists, teased the imagination into dangerous territories for any vital man.  Magistrate Miskoe was indeed a vital man, as his appendage�s sudden thickening and rise attested to.  Sending off Constable Pruitt and the young Mr. Smythe, Miskoe ushered Abigail and Margaret into his private office chambers.

�Young ladies, why doest village folk believe ye art witches?�

Margaret appeared as if she would cry.  Abigail answered for both of them, �Because we art always together, Sir, and we�we�we do not consort with men or boys.�

�Consort, thou sayeth.  Mmmmm, I do not see this as a wicked trait, saving ye virtue for future husbands.  I do believe we need more of that virtue in this wretched colony.�

Margaret spoke up in her reedy, high-pitched voice, �We do not intend to seek husbands, Sir.  We wish to be together, t�is all.�

�Do not speak of this in public!  Many believe that what thou suggest is the Devil�s work, as the evil one perpetuated on Sodom in the Holy Book.  I for one do not believe such desires constitute witchcraft, for I have carnal desires as well.  We art but imperfect creatures before God, especially in affairs of the heart�and other, ahem, parts of our anatomy.�

Both girls had easily witnessed the magistrate�s frontal bulge, so they knew of what he spoke, and tittered.  Miskoe knew that they knew, and laughed along with them, still cloaked in the wanton lust for these two finely proportioned young women.

Abigail spoke up, �As thou can see, we art not witches, but the same cannot be said for Sarah Godwin, for she has professed to us and others some most peculiar habits.�

�Such as?�

�She professes to have had sexual congress with many men at the same time, and with beasts of the field,� Abigail said.

Margaret added, �And she once snuck into my bedchamber�and fondled my bosom and my�my nether region.�

The magistrate gaped, then asked, �Have thou told anyone of this, child?�

�I was too ashamed�and��

Abigail continued for her, �She did not want to tell me, for she found the touching pleasurable, but I have forgiven her.  I love her.�

The two embraced each other and in seconds were kissing in an extremely unchaste manner.  Magistrate Miskoe said, �Now, now!  None of that, here in this chamber.  Argh!  The Devil�s work!�

Margaret pulled her lips away from her lover�s, saying, �T�is can�t be the work of the Devil, since the Reverend Grout said it was a holy sacrament.�

�He said THAT?�  Miskoe nearly shouted.  �I fail to believe such nonsense.�

�Aye,� Abigail responded, �he has viewed our coupling in order to declare its holiness.�

Margaret added, �And he had a similar rise as thou have had, Sir.�  She snickered.

�But the Reverend was quite handy under his robes�Magistrate, Sir.�  Abigail said with a chortling voice.

Miskoe chuckled too, thinking about his sudden fortune of having damning information to possibly use against the nettlesome preacher�and the more immediate good fortune these two precocious beings presented.  �My, my�why not also show me this holy rite, if ye art in fact in love, and wish to demonstrate this love to one who will not think ill of it?�

The girls undressed each other, giggling all the while, and progressed to a divan the magistrate had along the side wall of his official chamber.  As Miskoe watched with eyes agog, the young ladies kissed and fondled each other�s impressively large and firm breasts.  Their pudenda were not as densely covered with hair as the magistrate had seen with older women.  Instead, their thatch was not a thicket, and the magistrate was able to see much of their charms.  And their girlish-looking charms had quite the effect on the magistrate�s penis, which grew even stiffer and began to leak, as it was wont to do when excessively aroused; something the magistrate had not experienced since his dear wife passed on.

When Abigail spread Margaret�s thighs and kissed her opening with animal-like abandon, Miskoe slipped his hand under his clothing and stroked heartily on his throbbing cock.  Margaret whimpered in obvious pleasure as Abigail�s ministrations took their effect.  When Abigail turned her position to lay upon Margaret in the opposite direction, and the other girl kissed and licked her opening in kind, the magistrate�s hand motion grew steadily faster.

The girls orally pleased each other until Abigail threw her head back in apparent rapture, yelling �Oh Margaret, Heaven�s gate has open�d�ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,� with her entire body shaking uncontrollably.  Margaret�s wail quickly ensued.  Still in a fleshy embrace on the divan, the girls glanced expectantly over at the magistrate to see that his breeches were down, his cock out and his hand clamped around its thick shaft.  His eyes closed, ejaculate shot out of Miskoe in several long threads, nearly spanning his office.

Miskoe opened his eyes to see two wide-open pairs staring back.  He laughed, and said, �That was indeed a special, sacred act.  I was observably pleased with witnessing such a splendid show of affection, as I am sure Reverend Grout was�pleased.  Now, get yourselves dressed, and be careful not to let the folks of our village know of these affectations, lest more nonsense about witchcraft�

The girls quickly dressed and were gone forthwith.  Magistrate Miskoe ruminated on what he had just witnessed, his cock surprisingly showing renewed vigor at the thought.  �I must personally investigate this Miss Godwin to see if she indeed shows signs of being a witch,� he said to himself, before turning his thoughts to his supper.

The next day, he had his scribe summon the constable, who in turn was assigned to bring Sarah Godwin to the magistrate�s office.  Miskoe already had developed a mental image of how this girl would appear, yet the reality was even farther removed from that image.  Sarah Godwin turned out to be a foul-mouthed waif, a gamin really, with golden hair, set wildly if at all.  Her dress seemed to be straight from the barnyard, both in appearance and odor.   When she spoke, he was certain that her mouth needed soap before her body.

After several epithets, she asked why she had been summoned.  �The town-folk have declared thee a witch, that is why,� said the flustered magistrate.  �Thy manners displayed here, before an officer of the King�s Court, do not help the cause, Miss Godwin.�

�My manners art as they are, Sir,� she answered.  It was obvious to Miskoe that she was now trying not to add any profane oaths to her speech, which obviously was against her nature.  �My Uncle Nathan sets my manners, not I.�

�What of thy uncle?�

�Since I live under his roof, I do what he tells me.�

�And that includes bawdy speech?�

Sarah must have misunderstood �bawdy� for �body,� for she answered, �Aye, my Uncle takes my body whenever he so pleases.  I rather enjoy it, I�ll say.  Is that what thee would like?  My body, Sir?�  Before Miskoe could respond, she slipped off her dress, and stood before him garbed only in the skin the Lord had given her at birth, filthy as it were.

The magistrate�s reaction was mixed.  Her bodily odor was rank, yet the young lady standing naked before him stirred many emotions, as well as his manhood.  She was the reverse of the earlier two, Abigail and Margaret.  Sarah could have been a boy for all she displayed on her chest, yet she was certainly not a boy; her pudenda so barely covered in light hair that the young, pudgy folds were unmistakable in their femininity, and quite inviting to Miskoe.  A bath and a bit more meat on her meager bones would set things straight, Miskoe thought; as straight as his cock was at the moment.

�Young lady, doest thee ever bathe?  Thou smell as an outhouse would.�

�No sir, my Uncle does not waste water on me, nor his whiskey.�

�Put thy clothing back on, girl, for I have an idea on an excursion we may�ahem�both benefit from.�

When Sarah was dressed again, Miskoe called out to his scribe to summon his wagon from the stablemaster.  When the horse-drawn wagon arrived, the magistrate and the girl boarded, and he drove out of the village for approximately two miles.  They travelled off the well-worn road and down a barely passable path to at a secluded glen near a stream.  Miskoe helped the waif down from the wagon, producing a cake of soap from the pocket of his waistcoat.

�This is a perfect place to bathe.  We shall be left alone for as long as we wish.  I assure thee that no Indians art in this region.  Feel free.�

Sarah giggled and threw off her clothes before running naked into the softly rushing water.  For several minutes, Magistrate Miskoe watched the girl cavort in the stream, acting as a child, feeling the natural stirring in his groin, yet now not worried about being seen in such a condition. 

At one point in time, she stepped slightly out of the water to declare it very cold, and pointing to her nearly nonexistent breasts said �My nips have puckered as my fingertips have.  Would thou like to feel them, Sir Magistrate?�  She stepped farther from the water and walked to him proudly, not shamed or embarrassed at all about being naked in front of the man.

He did feel them as soon as she neared.  Though hardly buxom, her breasts did have soft substance, and her nipples were indeed puckered and taut, protruding more than before she entered the stream.  As he touched her, she closed her eyes and moaned softly, a moan of such unspoken feeling which the magistrate had not had the pleasure of hearing from a woman�s lips in years.

�If I am to bathe, why do thee not wish to join me in the stream?� she asked, her eyes now reopened, their gaze that of a more worldly woman.

Perhaps she is much more worldly that the Good Lord intended at her age, Miskoe thought.  �That is an excellent idea,� he said as he began to disrobe.  She didn�t wait, returning to the stream.  She did watch him, though.

When his taut and upright member was freed from its restraints, she gasped and giggled.  �That is such a big fish to be freed within these waters, Sir.  I hope it does not devour everything it sees, only that which wishes to be devoured.�

�And what in this stream wishes to be devoured?� he said.  She simply smiled back at him.

Miskoe marveled at how the girl�s speech was transforming.  A Siren did not draw sailors to the rocks as masterfully as her voice was drawing him.  �He often has been the most uncontrollable of beasts, yet he has not been in the company of a woman in a long time so I cannot attest to his voraciousness.�

The water was colder than he imagined it to be.  The displayed ardor of his manhood withered with contact to the frigid water, enough that she proclaimed, �Thy affliction I am sure is but temporary.� She wrapped her small hand around its shaft, and indeed she was correct; his affliction was temporary.

He had brought the soap cake into the stream with him, and he proceeded to cleanse her body with it, sparing no area, lingering at a few of them.  She allowed him to do so, but not without several more of those softly uttered moans.  She took the soap from him and began to wash his body.  She too concentrated on particular areas, and those areas responded to the attention.  After rinsing off the soap residue, Miskoe lifted her into his arms and carried her to a grassy area beside the stream.  They made no conversation, each knowing what was to happen.  When placed down in the grass, the girl immediately got onto her hands and knees.  The magistrate was not accustomed to mating as wild animals did, though he surmised that Sarah was quite familiar with the practice, watching the act unfold countless times on her uncle�s farm.  With her arse facing him, a smile on her lips and his shaft as rigid as a spike-nail, he was not about to let this opportunity pass because of any self-righteous qualm.  Miskoe fell to his knees behind the girl, and placed the end of his cock at her opening.  He was astounded by the amount of natural lubrication practically dripping from within the folds of her sex.  With relish, he poked his erection into her and pushed.

She gasped, crying out, �Thou art so large, as my uncle�s horses!�

Whether she was playing with him was uncertain, but the magistrate found the girl�s sex to be extremely tight, in spite of her internal wetness.  He placed a hand on either hip and thrust himself deeper still.  Her gasping breaths grew more intense, and shorter, as Miskoe worked his way in and out of the velvet clamp that was her vagina.  It had been so long since he had sexual congress with a woman that he knew her incredible tightness would quickly drain his seed from him in short order.

Sarah cried out, �Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!� just as Miskoe felt himself ready to ejaculate.  She must have sensed or felt his imminent release, for she said, �Do not fill me with thy damned seed.  I am fertile�� She need sayeth no more, as with a loud grunt, he pulled from her and spewed all over her backside.

They lay in the grass, as Sarah regaled the magistrate with many tales of her upbringing on the farm.  When she was still young her uncle �broke� her in to sex.  Matter-of-factly she told of painful nights until she reached puberty, when she discovered that sex could be pleasurable.  She told Miskoe of the many times she witnessed animals in heat around the farm and realized she got like that sometimes; so in need that she had to seek immediate release.  She did so first with inanimate objects, but then imagined that the animals could provide that release.  Miskoe could not believe the stories this wild gamin told of congress with dogs, billy goats, and other beasts.

�Thy uncle�s HORSE?!� Miskoe asked, his mouth agape.

�Aye, his damned dingus grew to amazing size�like thine,� she said with a mischievous grin.  �I used my hand to take fluid from the mare and spread the liquid over my nethers.  I stuck my arse between the fence rails, and the big ol� horse mounted me right good.�

�Did thee�ahem�enjoy it?�

She scoffed, �No sir!  Nearly split me in two pieces!  I thought the damned thing would skewer me to my belly!�

They both rolled in the grass, laughing heartily at what only now, looking back at it, could be considered a humorous matter.  The laughing only lasted so long, since the magistrate�s manhood had recovered adequately and was in need of renewed release.  Of course, Sarah�s industrious palm had much to do with that phenomenon.

�This is the proper way for a man to mount his lady,� Miskoe said, as he spread her thighs widely and moved between them. 

Her legs apart and pointing to the sky above, he lay upon her and put it in.  She was no looser this second time.  He marveled at her tightness, and thought of the horse�s immense penis inside this very same unyielding, velvety haven where he now propelled himself.  He drove inside her as rapidly as he could, and soon her wails of pleasure echoed across the valley.  Her tiny arse pushed up to meet every one of his manly thrusts.  He forgot himself and spewed his seed deep.  She was in too much of a rapturous mood to object.

They cleansed the residue of sex from their bodies in the stream before dressing and untethering the horse and wagon for the ride back to the village.  Not much was spoken until they exited the woods.

�Did thee prove to thyself, Magistrate, that I am not a witch?� Sarah said, smiling.

�Since I have been dutifully beguiled this fine day, perhaps more study will be required.�

Her smile broadened, �Yes, I do believe that thee must continue thy�enquiry, Sir.  When thou study me, thou probe much deeper than my damned Uncle ever could�Sir.�

�So perhaps thou will take up a position within the fence rails for me next time?�

�Only for thee,� she responded, her light voice suddenly growing coarser.

He took the girl to her uncle�s farm, not wanting the village folk to see them in their present state.  When he spied the stabled horse and its extraordinary prepuce, as he turned the wagon to leave, Miskoe shook his head imperceptibly, wondering if all that she amused him with were lies formed within her ample, licentious heat. 

Besides the most pleasant diversion he was provided on this beautiful day, his eyes were opened to many new possibilities as well.  Could these �witches� simply be wanton women, unable to be sufficiently satiated in their marital beds?  Could the younger ones be as needy as Sarah Godwin? 

By God�s command, as the magistrate, he must find out!

Miskoe summoned Abigail and Margaret again and again, allowing his office chamber to be the sanctuary for their unnatural love.  Of course, his chamber served the dual role as a stage upon which he could view them, and seek self-release that to others would be deemed equally as immoral and unnatural.  Much seed was spilled within the folds of his loosened clothing whenever the girls visited him.

Scuttlebutt around the village was that Mrs. Hammond, a widow who lived in a sagging house at the wood�s edge, was a witch.  She had been seen by local busybodies wandering the fields in the dead of night.  What those same busybodies were doing watching for the poor woman on those nights was anyone�s guess.  Of course the magistrate was compelled to investigate. 

Mrs. Hammond was summoned before him.  Miskoe confronted the woman with the accusations.  Instead of vehement denials, she hung her head and sobbed. 

�Art thee in tears because thou have been found out?� Magistrate Miskoe asked her.

She shook her head, but some time passed before she answered him.  �Magistrate, Sir, my life has been nigh an impossible burden since my husband, John, passed.  It is a hex upon me, not from witchcraft but from the flames within.  My bed is empty at night, and therefore I am empty as well.�

Miskoe bid her to come closer.  She was not an unattractive woman, though hardship had prematurely aged her.  Unlike the wild lass, Sarah, Mrs. Hammond appeared clean, and no odor about her.  Actually, Miskoe did detect an odor about her, but it was one he was familiar with, a musk special to a woman with certain needs.  He made a proposal to her that would address the nightly condition of her bed.

�I surmise that thy nightly travels are to seek male companionship.  Am I correct?�

�Aye, Sir,� she admitted, though looking downward so as not to make eye contact with the magistrate.

�Is this male companionship�ahem�satisfactory to thee?�

�No, Sir.�  She paused, taking in a large breath before saying, �Magistrate, my John was a large man�large in every way possible�and no one has been able to match his�qualities.�

�Thou art quite a comely woman, Missus Hammond.  I am certain that any man could grow to twice his size when in thy company.  In fact, I grow as we speak.�

She blushed deeply when he said this, and could not hide the glance she made to the area below his belt.  �Please, call me Emily, Magistrate.  I am humbled yet appreciative of thy�display of such�growth.  Perhaps my bed may not be so empty this night?�

His wagon was again summoned and he drove the Widow Hammond to her house.  Once there, he bedded her quite pleasantly.  Emily turned out to be a feisty one, not satisfied to allow the man to lead her in the act.  Miskoe had never had sex with a woman who sat astride him as one would ride a horse, and with Emily in that position, galloping energetically upon his throbbing member, he began to wish for nothing else.  She cried out several times as hot shivers ran through her.  Miskoe could not restrain himself any longer, and even after she absently called him �John� during one such shiver, he discharged mightily deep within her.

After they were finished, Miskoe teased her by saying, �Only a witch would derive such pleasure from a deep skewering.  Ma�am, doest thou believe in such black magic?�

�My belief goes no farther than toward the nearest magic staff, of which thine is quite magical.�

�I do not wish to supplant the memory of thy husband, but I would enjoy thy company again in the future.  Perhaps more magic would be conjured, yes?�  The future proved not to be too far removed, for the magistrate spent the night in Mrs. Hammond�s bed, though little sleep ensued since they enjoyed several couplings in various physical configurations.  One such dog-like coupling had Miskoe remembering the young Miss Godwin.  For some strange reason, this memory found him doubling his output, both in semen and in song.

As much as the Widow Hammond occupied his mind, the magistrate could not shake away his thoughts and concerns for Sarah.  The girl�s public appearance of wildness continued to fuel accusations of witchcraft.  Her Uncle Nathan did nothing to dispel village notions, often telling outrageous tales of his niece�s behavior around the farm while he drank himself to a stupor at the tavern. 

One such evening, Nathan became rowdy and Constable Pruitt had to lock him up for his own good.  Magistrate Miskoe, upon hearing of this detainment and concerned for the girl�s welfare, quickly fetched his wagon and drove out to the farm to check on her.

He found the girl lying in the path near the stable, at first believing her dead or injured.  Alighting from the wagon, Miskoe ran to her and found her still breathing�and surprisingly in good humor.  Many parts of her naked body were sticky, as if mucilage had been poured upon her.  The magistrate immediately knew what this substance was.  It was most assuredly not mucilage.

�Who did this to thee?� Miskoe asked.

�Too many to damn count,� Sarah answered coarsely.

�Did they�force themselves on thee?�

She laughed, �Aye, force!  Ha!  Thou have bedded me, Sir.  Doest thou deem me as one who needs to be FORCED into sexual coupling?�

�Perhaps the folks art correct and thou art of witch�s blood.  Thine does seem to run hotter than most, of which I can surely attest.  Let us get thee cleaned up and dressed.  Thy Uncle Nathan has been thrown into the gaol for safekeeping, and I have come to watch over thee.�

�I do not need watching, Sir, but my itch has not subsided, even following the many boys who had their way with me.  I know a Magistrate�s staff that is well equip�d to scratch the itch that needs a-scratchin�.�

�And that may be the extent of my�ahem�watching.� 

He walked her to the pump, drew some water and washed the filth from her.  Then he walked her to the barn and into the hay loft, where he disrobed and proceeded to bed the girl once again.  As the memory of Emily Hammond bounding wildly above him burned a path through his mind, he urged Sarah atop his prone body and onto his rigid flagpole of flesh.

The girl took to this new position with relish.  She began at a slow and exploratory pace, then when she discovered that the internal rubbing and stretching was to her liking, began to bounce faster, much like the Widow Hammond had done.  With Sarah, Miskoe did not have the additional pleasure of watching mature breasts bounce and sway above him.  Instead, he reached up and played with her taut nipples, marveling at the firmness of the girls tiny breast-lets.  She seemed to enjoy his ministrations, adding some vocals to the bounce.

�I am�I am�I am�Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!� she screamed as she clamped down on the magistrate�s swollen and ready to burst member, shaking in release.

The magistrate�s member did indeed burst a few seconds later, as she lay down upon him and thrust her tongue into his gaping mouth.  A witch�s kiss, Miskoe thought, and I am lost to her power.  Her mouth did produce magic, for even while spent he remained stiff within her.  As per her wanton nature, she was not satisfied and continued to move around the magistrates aching yet still tumescent manhood.

�Oh kind Sir, I do so much enjoy this stance which allows me to feel thy attributes to the fullest,� she uttered, each word separated by a sharp intake of breath.  �No boy, no beast can duplicate the effect thou art having on me.�  She humped several more times in rapid succession until she screamed out, �Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!� as no Indian of the northern woods could duplicate, even in battle.

Since the magistrate had not sown his seed this second time, he was still ready when she stopped him at the hay loft ladder and placed her backside out for his pleasure.  He took that pleasure, pounding mercilessly into her tight hole until both of them sang songs of immense glee.

The young girl�s bed wasn�t suitable, a pallet mat really, unclean and probably infested, though to his relief, Miskoe had noticed no such infestation on her.  Her uncle�s bed was slightly more kempt, so that is where they spent the remainder of the night.  By morning�s light, the magistrate�s cock was so abraded and sore that he nearly wished they had not had so much sex.  Nearly, but not completely.

When Miskoe rode up to his office that morning, Reverend Grout was there, awaiting his arrival.  He did not look like a happy man, but the magistrate thought, did he ever look differently?

�Samuel, thou were not coming from thy home.  Where hast thou been?�

�Thou may be the keeper of our modest flock, Reverend, but thou art not MY keeper.�

�Have thou scheduled Court proceedings for these witches, Samuel?  This entire village is being sullied by them and their evil ways.�

Miskoe kept his anger in check, answering, �No, I have not.  I have spoken to these women at length, and I for one do not see any evidence of incantations and spells.�

The Reverend looked incredulous.  �No evidence?  Why, my dear friend, I have been told of many black, ungodly practices.  I have been told of a witch girl who takes innocent young boys into her charms for unnatural�acts�when she is not copulating with�with�BEASTS!� 

Miskoe caught himself from laughing at the Reverend, especially the spittle that launched out of his mouth as he spoke.

Hardly even catching his breath, Grout continued, ��and other girls have been committing fornication with EACH OTHER!  May God save us!�

Remembering what Abigail had told him, Miskoe said, �Reverend, have thee witnessed any such immoral actions?  I too have heard stories of a widow who only seeks to have an empty bed filled again called a witch.  How can that be unnatural in God�s eyes?�

Reverend Grout sputtered.  For how could he sayeth he has witnessed such actions without admitting to watching the two girls love each other? The magistrate thought.  Grout finally said, �Investigate these matters more closely, Magistrate.  I do not wish to usurp the Court�s power, but if thou do nothing, then the church shall do something in the Court�s stead.�  With that, he stormed off.

Miskoe had no intention of considering any further evidence of witchcraft with these females.  His intention was to bed them, all well and proper.  Besides Emily Hammond, another widow was on the receiving end of witchcraft accusations.  The magistrate investigated her as he had with the others.  What he found, besides a wet cock, was a disturbed woman.  She asked that he not enter her vagina, instead thrusting her arse at him and asking that he penetrate that hole instead.  He grew quite uneasy at the idea of such an unclean act, but performed the act anyway, and surprisingly found it immensely pleasurable in spite of the filth which oozed from her, mixed with his copious ejaculate when they were finished.

Several village folk commented on how haggard the magistrate appeared lately, asking after his health and whether he was getting enough sleep.  Aye, enough sleep, ha, Miskoe thought.  I am getting no sleep, though spending much time in bed.

Mrs. Hammond was becoming more demanding of his time, mistaking his ardor for love, as he supposed, any widow women would in her shoes.  She was so energetic and bold in bed that he was having a difficult time extracting himself from those demands.

Sarah Godwin, however, was another story.  She demanded nothing but sex, and in quantities no man could possibly turn away, even if he became as sore as a saddle-less ridden horse.  Miskoe had been noticing a change in her bosom; they were getting more distended to the touch somehow, though not as if the eye could easily tell.

They often visited the stream where he bedded her that first time.  Their ritual was set; a dip in the stream, a dip into her from behind, and then she would dip down on top of Miskoe�s quickly-recovering manhood.  He was no longer a young man, and yet his member acted as if he were.  For this, he was eternally grateful, regardless if he had God to thank or the Devil.

Lying together in the grass, he espied his young concubine absently rubbing her belly.  He asked her if she felt ill, or if something else was wrong.

She looked up at him with eyes that surely could cast spells, and said, �I have not bled in months.  I think I am with child.�

He was cast dumb.  Of course it could be his, or her uncle�s, or any one of the men and boys who often had their way with her.  What could he do?  He said nothing, though he realized later that she had no expectations of him at all.  To her, having a child was simply part of life, no different than any animal in the barnyard.  Her uncle would adopt the child as he would any stray, he surmised, probably giving little thought to its ancestry.  The greater concern would be how the village perceived all this, considering the witchcraft accusations.

After returning Sarah to the farm, Miskoe returned to the village to find it in an uproar.  Reverend Grout was in rare form, speaking to an assembly that had gathered around him in the village square.

�See, all thee God-fearing people!  As I have been telling ye, Satan is about in this village, and he has several witches doing his evil work.  They commit acts contrary to God�s will, acts which brought about the downfall of Sodom and Gomorrah and will bring about our downfall as well.  We need to root out these witches, one after the other, until our village be blest and in His good graces once more.�  While he caught his breath, Grout spotted Magistrate Miskoe upon his wagon, and called out to him.  �Magistrate, we the people of God wish to bring charges in open court of witchcraft against Miss Abigail Whitehead.  She has practiced ungodly acts for far too long.�  Not waiting on an answer from Miskoe, he turned to the crowd and said, �How do ye all believe?�

�Witch!� they yelled as one.

The magistrate thought, Oh, what hast thou done to deserve this now, Abigail?  And what of thy love, Margaret?  With most of the town seemingly behind the Reverend, Miskoe had no choice but to call the girl before the Court to answer the charge; and it had better be soon or the village may decide to string a noose first and ask questions later.

The next day at noon found the courtroom filled beyond its normal capacity.  The magistrate used his gavel many times to quiet the raucous crowd as person after person gave witness to what they claimed to have seen young Abigail do.  Miskoe scoffed at all the testimony, though he was powerless to contradict anything, since no one else came forward in contradiction to the false witness.

When Margaret testified, chills ran down the magistrate�s spine.  She told one abominable tale after another, claiming that she witnessed Abigail performing unspeakable acts.  Miskoe questioned her harshly, yet he could not shake the girl�s story.  Considering that many knew of the girls� close friendship (though not of their lovemaking), he knew this testimony was quite damning.

He called the accused before him and asked her to explain the accusations.  �I know of thee, Abigail Whitehead, and contrary to what has been said before this Court, I know of no such activities on thy part.  How doest thee explain the tales told before this Court, especially by Margaret, who I assumed was thy friend?�  When he said the word �tales,� he gazed with evident distaste at those who had testified.

�I cannot truly explain the affairs of the heart, Sir, for I am only a simple village girl.  Margaret and I were in love�� 

The entire courthouse gasped as one.

Reverend Grout shouted, �Unnatural love, not of God�s will, and she admits it!  What more do we need to hear?�

Miskoe banged his gavel down, and said, �Enough!  Let the young girl speak in her own defense!  That is the COURT�S will!�

Abigail, with tears freely falling, told of how she had fallen out of love with Margaret and had fallen in love with Mrs. Sawyer, a young widow.  �I gave my heart and myself to the widow, and she gave me herself in return.  What is so wrong with that, Sir?  Margaret�s jealousy has turned her against me.  I have done nothing wrong except fall in love.�

Fighting the noise of the angry gallery with his gavel, and mostly losing the fight, Magistrate Miskoe declared he found the evidence insubstantial and that Abigail was not a witch.  His decision did not sit well with the crowd.  Above the protestations, Miskoe asked Constable Pruitt to bring Abigail to the gaol for her safekeeping, since a mob could easily be forecast from this rabble, led by fanatical Reverend Grout.

Miskoe stayed with the girl, worrying about her safety, knowing in his heart that the young constable may not have the fortitude or will to protect her.

�They will hang me, Sir,� she said in a soft voice.

�No they will not,� answered Miskoe, knowing full well that this statement fell far short of a promise.

�Thou art a righteous man, Magistrate.  Whatever happens to me, I am happy that I was able to do something which pleased thee.�  She meant the �shows� that she and Margaret had put on for him in his office.  They both heard the mob long before they arrived at the gaol.  �Magistrate, please caress my bosoms before I go.  I know thou admired them greatly, and I wish to feel the sensation one last time.�

He reached inside her clothing and touched first one then the other.  She closed her eyes and moaned, most likely pretending the touch was of a woman lover, perhaps Mrs. Sawyer.  The mob broke in with no interference from the constable, who had run off in cowardly fear.  Miskoe tried to protect the girl, but she was pulled from his grasp as he was beaten by several in the group.

The mob carried Abigail to the large maple in the center of the village, where a rope with a neatly tied noose had been set in preparation.  Reverend Grout called out for God�s mercy to rain down on the girl�s soul.  As bloodied Miskoe dragged himself from the gaol, he heard the reverend�s speech and thought that in reality his God was perhaps occupied at the moment, for how else could He let this happen?

They placed a wooden stool below the branch with the rope, and stood Abigail upon it.  Miskoe was amazed as he looked on, for as they placed the noose around her young neck, the girl appeared as an angel; no expression of fear or hate shown on her face, her golden hair lightly blown by the wind.  She looked outward and locked her eyes on the limping and crawling magistrate�s.  His heart was broken by it, but by that glance he could tell she held no ill will toward him.

As the stool was knocked aside, Miskoe fell to his knees and prayed to God that He was indeed listening, and would find a rightful place for her with Him, for she was indeed sinless, unlike most of her accusers.  As her small and delicate feet kicked their last, leaving only her body swinging in a gentle arc, the magistrate cried.

When he overheard members of the mob speaking of other witches, Miskoe knew what he must do next.  He returned home, fed his horse, filled the wagon with provisions and all he owned, and set out to gather those in risk.

In turn he went to Emily Hammond�s home, then to the Widow Sawyer�s, and lastly to the farm of Nathan Godwin to see Sarah.  Each woman was told of Abigail�s fate and convinced of their peril.  Anne Sawyer took the news very hard, for Abigail had become her lover, and now was gone for eternity.  �Should any woman endure losing two loves in her life?� she asked, but Miskoe of course had no answer, for he had lost only one.

The four of them climbed aboard Miskoe�s wagon and set off.  The magistrate, who figured he no longer held that title, told them of a town several hours� journey away where they could live without fear.  Along the way, Sarah asked that they stop at the secret stream.  As the wagon pulled to a stop, the women jumped from the wagon, threw off their clothing with wild enthusiasm, and jumped into the cold water.

Miskoe sat and smiled, seeing each of them in their unadorned glory.  He intimately knew both Emily and Sarah, so their charms were not new to be discovered.  On the other hand, the fetching figure of Anne Sawyer was certainly worth exploring further, he thought.  Her breasts, though not as large and full as Abigail�s, were quite prominent, and looked extremely firm.  Her young, womanly shape spoke of fertility, and in thinking such thoughts, Miskoe began to stiffen.

The women beckoned him into the water to join them in their play.  His �condition� made him pause, but then he rethought the circumstance and disrobed.  Before he reached the water, the ladies were tittering amongst themselves, obviously commenting on his raised flagstaff though he could not hear what specifically was being said.

They frolicked, forgetting for that brief moment how close they perhaps had been to hanging from an unforgiving rope.  Sarah smiled at Miskoe, before taking Anne by the hand and leading her into the tall grass.  Soon, many sounds of pleasure emanated from the area.

�That is such a sweet sound, is it not?� Emily asked Miskoe.  �Thou have taught me how to sing as that once more, and Samuel, I love thee for it.�  She led him to another grassy area, and pushed him to the ground before sitting astride his unbending member.

�I am growing�most fond�of this�position,� he uttered as she bounced upon him.

�Remember�what�I said�about�my dear�John�s�shaft?� she wheezed, moving upon him ever faster.  �He�was�a timber�and�so�art thee�and I have�come to�enjoy this�deep�seating�of it�immensely.�  She settled down on his full (and throbbing) length and screamed her delight to the heavens.

They didn�t realize that Sarah and Anne had been watching them until Sarah spoke, �Sir, I believe thou have not spent thy allotment yet.  May I take it from thee?�

Emily moved aside with no hint of jealousy so the younger girl could mount him.  Miskoe was surprised by the feel of her, as if additional wetness had made her slipperier somehow.  He gathered that the previous lovemaking with Anne had opened her flower a bit.  As had been his experience since that first time with her, the young girl�s tight womanhood easily drew his full, if not extra, �allotment� from him.  If she had not already been with child, then this copious load may have sewn a seedling within her womb.

Leaving the stream behind, the four rode on for many hours in silence, lost in their own thoughts of what they left behind and what lay ahead for them.  Miskoe had acquaintances in the distant town, so when they arrived, food and lodging were quickly, and thankfully, arranged.

Emily Hammond took on the role of the ex-magistrate�s wife, leading all the townspeople to believe they were lawfully married.  Miskoe knew in his heart that regardless of legal or Blessed license, they were so.  He would never forget his dearly departed wife, his first love, but he had a new love that would sustain him through the years to come.

Anne and Sarah were passed off as orphaned sisters under Miskoe�s care.  Emily understood that although she was his love, Samuel had more than enough affection to occasionally take one or both of the young women into their bed.  This was especially so on frigid, winter nights, where much bodily heat (and sound) was generated by the lustful quartet.

They heard stories told by wayfarers of their old village and many swinging from ropes under the big maple.  The women knew all of them, and wept upon hearing of their sad demise, yet thankful for Samuel Miskoe and his courage in saving them from a similar fate.

Sarah�s child was a boy.  She named him Samuel.

 

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Donna M.

© 2011

 

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