1 comments/ 49678 views/ 11 favorites Accused By: PerilEyes This story was inspired by the events of the Salem Witch Trials of 1692. Thus, while this is a work of (hyperbolic) erotic fiction, the witch "tests" and the motivations for accusing one for being a witch did exist. Some of the characters, notably Elizabeth Hubbard, also are documented characters. * Salem, Massachusetts. 1692. Mary Best hummed a tune to herself as she mended a garment for her husband. It wasn't a psalm or a prayer as was expected of her. No, it was a song of hope and of love. She was certainly a pious individual and dedicated church goer, but as a 30 something year old hopeless romantic, she could not help it. Will was out on business elsewhere in the county, which meant that the only man in her life at the moment was her loyal doggy who lazily lay by her side. But before she could finish sewing the breaches and singing her tune, she was interrupted by great rumblings coming from the outdoors. Even the dog, who had been napping, got up to see what was happening. "My, what could that be at this late hour?" she said to herself as she got out of her seat. She dropped the pants and headed to the door. The commotion appeared to get louder and louder. There was chanting, yelling, and howling. Mary opened the door to what looked to be all of Salem outside her doorstep. Her straight blonde hair flowed in the slight breezy air as she took in the scene before her. Many of the faces she recognized as people she'd conversed with at the market or at church. They waved flaming torches and hurled holy phrases at her. Front and centre was the Reverend Samuel Parris and the 18 year old orphan Elizabeth Hubbard, Mary's very own servant! "There she is," the maidservant called out, "the witch!" Mary was quite taken back by that word "witch" and by the fact that it was her own servant girl, colloquially known as Betty, making these wild claims. "Elizabeth? What words to you speak? I am no witch," she replied. "Her spectre came to me last night and attempted to persuade me to do the dark one's bidding. When I refused it choked me around my neck," Betty said while clutching her neck. "If not for the repulsion of my crucifix, I would have passed on prematurely." The mob gasped before proceeded to taunt Mary Best. "UNHOLY!" cried one. "HEATHEN!!" uttered another. "WITCH!!!!" yelped an additional soul. "Mary Best, you are charged with the vile offense of witchcraft and entering into covenant with the devil. How do you respond to the affliction of this poor girl?" asserted Parris. "I know not of what this girl speaks Reverend," Mary outraged. "I was in my home last night praising the good Lord." "She sings songs of the devil!" the young accuser cut in. "Many a night I have heard her voice lure and corrupt the children...and those eyes! Those devilish eyes." She shuddered while covering her face in the Reverend's body. The crowd howled and hissed at this new piece of information. "HAVE HER HEAD!" they resumed. "SHE CANNOT BE SAVED!!" they claimed. "HANG HER!!!" they finally said. "Why, this is preposterous! I do not know what this girl speaks of!" she addressed the crowd as the wind picked up slightly. Her homemade dress flowed in the breeze, exposing the bottom portion of the slender woman's lengthy yet pale legs. The men in the crowd, some with their wives by their side, secretly gawked with amusement at the tiny peek. She looked to Parris for sympathy. "Reverend, I am no witch! By the grace of Mary and Joseph I am not a witch!!" "The evidence is overwhelming, Mary" Parris said rather unsympathetically. "But there is one more indicator to be witnessed. Seize her!" With that two men marched up to Mary and firmly grabbed her by the arms. "Please, no, I swear to you, I am not a witch!" she pleaded as she was brought into the crowd. "Well then," the reverend addressed her, "if that is the case, you will not bear the marks of the devil. Disrobe her!" Much to her protests, the oafs did not waste any time when they mauled at her clothing. Soon enough her wool gown, which she spent many hours making, was in tatters in front of her. She kicked and screamed and lamented at the state of her clothing but she could do nothing to overpower them as they exposed more and more skin. The men took many liberties in groping her by clutching her modest breasts and full ass. And why wouldn't they? Mary Best was a lustful woman. Her slim yet desirable form had the male population of the town in awe, and some women in jealousy. Many men in the crowd, including these two, knew this fact. They'd be a fool to pass up having a moment with her body. "This is unnecessary! I am innocent!" She squirmed. With her clothing in a puddle on the muddy ground, the chill of the sea air hit her body strongly. Mary cowered to protect herself from not only the cold, but the embarrassment of being exposed to the entire town. "Do not attempt to cover yourself, witch!" the clergyman commanded. Mary reluctantly dropped her arms at her sides. The mob hollered at the nude form in front of them. They laughed at her predicament. "Look! The devil commands her breasts at attention!" one cried, noting that her nipples had gone erect. "Only the devil suckles at the witch's teat! She is calling him to her!" added another. Her legs quivered in anxiety. Her pussy began to tingle. The reverend called over a pair of midwives to examine her. They were both women Mary recognized. "Margaret...Susannah...do not go through with this!!!" she tried to plead with them. Her appeal, however, fell on deaf ears to even the women she considered friends. The women, like the males before them, handled her in a similar fashion, only more gentle. But this did not mean the desire to see her exposed as a witch wasn't tamer. They knew Mary's appeal. Their own husband s made eyes at her and spoke of her needlessly around the house. This was their shot at redemption. They ran their hands all over her looking for an irregularity in her appearance, something miniscule to nail her on. They tweaked her nipples and pinched her breasts. Their roaming fingers actually felt good against her soft skin. She was actually enjoying this whole process. Could it be that her forced exposure, her humiliation, was of excitement to her? "Here, Reverend," Susannah said as she pointed to a spot of interest on her right mound. It really amounted to no more than slight discolouring, a birthmark of sorts. But for Parris it was enough to support his case. "There! You see!" he addressed the crowd. "The kiss of the devil has manifested itself!" "WITCH!! WITCH!!" the crowd howled. "No! No!" Mary replied frantically. The sensation in her pussy strengthened. "It is a m-mark I have had since naitivity!" "So thou admit to witchcraft since birth then?!" "WITCH! WITCH!!" Meanwhile Margaret explored Mary's lower regions. She parted her pussy lips with her fingers and entered. She pulled them and showed them to Parris. Strings of pre-cum connected her fingers like spider webs. "Bear witness, Reverend." "Let it be known that her vagina oozes with the devil's juice!!!" Parris announced to the crowd "IMMORAL!" "SLUT!!" "WHORE!!!" Such vile words, Mary thought to herself. She would've never thought they'd be used against her. Yet, there was something so raw about it. The clergyman leaned into her. "It seems the pious Mary Best is not so pious. I must examine this development myself." With that he prodded his own digits into her pussy. She squirmed at the violation of her cunt. Sweat of anxiety and arousal dripped down her naked form. Her arousal had been discovered. Her body had not only betrayed her, but it condemned her to the label of the devil's servant. "Evil seductress, you have lured many men into your arms, have you not!" He hollered at her as he fingered her clit. "Please, no" Mary gasped rather weakly. "I am loyal to my husband." "Then why do you react so strongly to my touch?!" "I do not," she lied out of desperation. In truth she was in deep arousal from the assault on her clit as well as having the great mob bear witness to it. "She attempts to deceive you, Reverend," Elizabeth replied. She had watched on idly since uttering her initial accusations. "While Master Best has been away I have seen her fornicating with the devil." Mary was shocked at Elizabeth's denial. "Why do you, do you, betray me like this Elizabeth? I have-OOOOOOH," she stopped to react to the intense overstimulation of Parris' actions. Her body was rocked and she was nearly floored. Her toes curled against the dirt floor. She wanted to cower and double over but she was being held up. "DEVIL'S CONCUBINE!" the mob accused in response. Her embarrassment hit an all time high while her reputation reached its nadir. She was forced to orgasm in front of all of Salem. Her body wasn't doing her any favours tonight. She could hear the collective gasp of the crowd. They muttered at her indecency. She wondered how it had it had come to this. A well respected townswoman was now the devil's sexual servant. While this went on, one of the midwives took it upon herself to further prove Mary's dark descent in the devil's clutches. "And here, Reverend," chimed Susannah while pointing to Mary's groin. It was a wart. She took out a pin and pricked it in a standard test to reveal a witch's identity. Gasping she commented on her findings. "It draws no blood. She feels no pain!" She crossed her chest in horror to protect herself from this sure witch. The mob gasped once again in unison at this final development. It was settled now. The evidence was stacked against Mary Best. There was only one thing left to do. "TO THE SALEM JAIL!!!" The men clutched the accused woman and paraded her down the dirt street to the town centre. The entire way they made advances at her body and voiced more insults. "LUSTFUL DEMON!" "SATAN'S MISTRESS!" Even when she began to hum a tune of hope she was cut off by a tomato hurled at her. She gasped as the rotten fruit exploded on her body completely drenching her face and upper body. One of the men, a merchant Jonathan Ramsey, began to molest her cunt. He rimmed his fingers along her hole and scolded her on her wetness. "I see the devil still afflicts you, witch." Mary was taken back this man, someone she visited every day at the market who was married no less, was so invasive and offensive. Another townsperson, a Benjamin Peobody, rather rudely massaged her breasts. He lifted and smacked them around. "Yes, where is your modesty now Mary? Certainly, not in these mammeries," he said while molesting them. "All I can feel is the evil contained in them." "Many a man has drunk the devil's milk from these pathetic udders, have they not?" he posed. The truth was that despite his insults, Mary Best boasted a fine chest. The townsmen, even the married ones, all lusted over her. Her own marital status prevented them from doing anything. Under the current circumstances, the guise of "inspecting" for signs of witchcraft allowed for forced intimacy with the woman. For twenty minutes, Mary endured this embarrassment and humiliation. The townspeople, with their pitchforks, lit torches, and harmful words, escorted her the entire way. Even people in the houses not in the mob joined in the howling as the parade passed their house. At the front of the witch hunt was a defeated Mary Best. Her psyche was broken and molested. Exposed to all of Salem, cruelly accused, verbally berated, rudely inspected, sexually violated, and most of all - WORST of all - she was oddly aroused by it all. Accused Ch. 02 The mob had left. Only Betty and Reverend Parris remained in front of the house. "Child," said the holy man. "I believe it is best if you get some rest." "Thank you Father, that woman and her evil ways make me quite weary," replied the servant Elizabeth Hubbard as she put her hand to her face. "She will receive her due, do not worry about that. Go now, rest, and may the Lord spring his glory onto you," "Thank you, Father. The Lord is grand." She sighed. "Goodnight." The Reverend part ways with her and Elizabeth headed into the house of her masters. "BY THE GRACE OF GOD I HAVE DONE IT!!!" she exclaimed as soon as she shut the door behind her. The only being that was home to take in her joyous cries was the dog that lay idly in the corner. She gaily twirled in the single room house reflecting on her triumph. She knew there was a good chance of it working, but she couldn't be sure until it actually happened! She had her mistress, Mary Best, hauled away to the town penitentiary! Her great storytelling had the entire town denounce her as a witch! God, they were so gullible, she thought to herself. At this point the dog, noting the movement of his mistress's servant, approached Betty for some attention. Normally the woman hated the mutt. But now she was in too good of a mood to care. Instead, she would entertain herself. Bending her knees she stroked his furry coat. "Notice one more of your masters are absent?" she remarked, diving into a monologue. "Well, she is not returning ever again. They took her away in wonderful fashion. Oh what a great sight it was indeed! The brutality, the ill-intentions...your mistress, the great Mary Best, a blithering fool will get what she deserves..." The last thought spurred bitter thoughts toward Mary. That woman had it all: a decent upbringing, a complete family, prosperity, a reputable identity! Betty had none of those. An orphan at an early age, abandoned by parents she never even knew, forced to live in the most impoverished of conditions, bouncing around in servitude of abusive families that were a lot better off than her. When Betty became the maidservant of the Bests, Mary became the embodiment of a life she never had, of a life she wanted. Even though Mary did nothing directly to her, she began to internally despise her mistress. But she could not act on it. She had to endure it, just waiting for the ideal chance to get rid of the woman. She clutched of the mutt's face and spoke to him with great ire in her voice. "Miserable beast! I despised having to look after you. I only did because that woman commanded me too. If it were up to me, I would have you dead!" Grabbing a hold of herself, she returned to a calm tone and once again stroked his soft head. "But she loved you as I do your master. And soon he will come to the recognition that he does so me. He will realize that I am the woman for him, not that, that...whore!" she said invoking the language of the mob. Letting go of the canine, she leisurely strolled over to the Bests' marital bed and plopped down on to it like she owned it. With arms outstretched, she claimed it as her sleeping place tonight. But before she called it a night here in their bed, she replayed the events in her head. She first consulted Reverend Parris about what she had "seen." He agreed with her that Salem had their latest witch in the making. Parris put in a request for the arrest of Mary Best and voila! All in a day's work, literally! Cue the howling mob! The timing was all by design of course. With no William around to protect his darling wife, the crowd could and would really have its way with her. And oh how they manhandled Mary! The destruction of her dress, those hands all over her perfect little body...they spared few liberties with her! No one could tell by the serious look on her face but Betty was very excited the wild sight in front of her. There was a devious smile just inching on to her lips. Where she could, she intervened to further apprehend Mary, such as the assertion that her mistress had sex with the devil. It was a truly ridiculous comment even for the servant girl, but hey, it worked! Mary's own humiliation of herself hit another level after she said that. Her own body betrayed her and essentially aided the mob's cause. It was all too rich and arousing Did Elizabeth truly believe Mary was a witch? Betty didn't actually see any spirits. To be honest, she didn't buy the idea of witches. The girls, namely Abigail Williams, who started the accusations, were playing some mad game that was costing the lives of many women. In fact, the truth didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. All she knew and cared for was that the town would stop at nothing to follow through with her accusations. This was their craze. This was their mania...and Betty knew an opportunity when she saw one... They would come up with incriminating tests for Mary that would be impossible to pass. This was the pattern of all the other women who were brought to justice. Betty could count on the fact that they would likely abuse, incriminate, condemn, and finally burn the witch. And then, only then, the servant thought as she felt the left side of the bed – WILL'S side – would she be out of their lives and she'd be free to go ahead with plans. She drifted off to sleep with the pleasant thoughts of destroying Mary's life and snatching her loving husband away from her. "Soon," she mumbled, "soon, Will..." *** When they arrived at the jailhouse, Mary Best was unceremoniously dumped into her cellar, which really amount to a 10 by10 room with brick walls and nothing in the middle, not even a cot. She would stay there for a few months before she would be put up for trial. The first thing she noticed was the extremely cold conditions. She was sure she'd freeze tonight if she didn't get some protection for her slim body. She signalled to the sentry for aid. "Please sir, I pray you, retrieve some garments to protect my body." The man got up and walked over to her. She stared into his grim eyes and he ogled her frightened yet delicious body from top to bottom. "CLOTHES?! You want clothes?!" He burst into laughter. "What a stupid request from a witch!" Mary dropped her head. How could he be so inhumane? How could he deny her this basic facet of life? "You do not deserve even a stitch on your pitiful evil form." he explained. "Let all that possesses you remain in the open." In truth, the guard just wanted to keep her body exposed for his viewing and using pleasure. Having been denied, Mary woefully retreated into the filthy cell. She lay down in a fetal position just trying to keep her body warmth within her persons. As she shivered from the great cold, she wondered where Will could be. She needed him now more than ever. She wanted his reassuring words and arms to comfort her. Will would get her out of this mess, she was sure of it. He had a way with people. And he would stop at nothing to protect her, a symbol of their untouchable love. If only he would get back from his errands, if only... *** The bright sun emitted through Betty's windows awoke the girl. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she stretched her form and smiled at her great state. She looked over to Will's side and just envisioned waking up to that wonderful man every morning. "It would be a certain improvement over that repulsive witch," she giggled. She rose out of bed and merrily began her day. With the house to herself, she freely pranced around the wooden floors. She stripped herself of her maid's dress and left in the middle of the living space. She didn't care. She didn't have to clean up after anyone now...especially her nemesis Mary Best. She cleansed herself and fixed her appearance in the mirror before looking for something to cover her form. Looking at herself in the mirror, she noted the difference with Mary. She was rather petite in stature, standing at about 5'5, a near half foot shorter than her mistress. Indeed, while Mary was statuesque yet quite slender, Betty was tiny yet curvier all the same. Where Mary was angelic with her golden locks and blue eyes, Betty was earthier with her matching hazel hair and eyes. Then, just when she had something picked out of her rather plain and limited wardrobe, she got an idea. She strolled over to Mistress Mary's chest of garments and pulled out one of her dresses. She threw it onto the bed and examined it. It was the finest of Mary's gowns without a doubt. Long, woolly, flowing, a faint blue colour and accessorized with lacy embroidery. This was clearly a dress saved for the holiest of days...and Betty was going to try it on right now! She fitted the dress over her head with some difficulty due to the sheer length of it. When it was on, the maidservant could only laugh at how unfit the size was for her. The sleeves outran her arms. The extra fabric of the skirt bunched at her feet. Yet, still, something felt right and empowering about it. As she smoothed out the cloth, she contemplated the meaning of it. The dress represented a lifestyle she never had. It signified the perks of the upper class society (well, upper to her, the Bests were by no means members of the gentry). It meant that when that woman was disposed of and Betty usurped her man for herself in marriage, she could have a dress of this nature tailored for her body. She pretended to classily walk with the dress as if she was at church. "Greetings, Mrs. Walcott...why yes, we are very happy now that Mary has been apprehended...Thank you, Mrs Goody, it does look splendid on my doesn't it?" she said to herself as she pictured all the women that would pay her compliments. Of course, no one's compliments were bigger than the ones she'd get from Will. "You are so beautiful in that dress," he would say. "Yes, much more appealing than Mary. Very much so." Oh how she longed to hear kind words from him regarding her appearance. How grand that would be... KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!! Her fantasy was interrupted by the frapping at the door. In a frantic stupor she threw the dress off and looked for something to don herself with. The knocking got louder which only increased her desperation. In a quick move she picked up a blanket off the bed and covered herself. Then she calmly answered the door. On the other side of the threshold were two older constables. They were shocked to see Betty in her current state to say the least. "Ahem, good morning, Betty," one began. "Morning, Mr. Patsy, Mr. Kline...what brings you here this morning?" Betty replied in the most nonchalant tone she could manage. The officers purposely ignored commenting on the girl's appearance. Instead they stated their business in a strict tone. "We've come by order of Judge Hathorne to set this wicked house ablaze and rid it of the evil spirits." Set the house blaze, Betty thought. They couldn't do that! Betty and Will were going to live here and be merry! She had to think of something quickly. "No!" she outraged. "I mean, that will not do Mr. Kline..." "Oh? And why not?" they replied without any give. "Because, because Mr. Best has not returned from his endeavours. Surely his belongings are not afflicted with that of Mrs. Best's, are they?" It was such a horrible line of reason, Betty acknowledged, but it was the best she could do. Thus, Betty supplemented her words with rather flirtatious actions: playing with her hair, adjusting the blanket to show more skin. She was devious, but not overtly. She wouldn't want to receive the same fate as Mary after all. The subliminal acts must've worked because Kline and Patsy firmed their position. "Well, alright then Betty...when William returns we shall speak to him." Betty nodded. She noted the men's glances on her body. They would never admit it, but they lusted over her young body. "Thank you," she said with a gently curtsy. The men tipped their hat and bid her a good day. She shut the door behind her and leaned up against it. She breathed a sigh of relief and then smirked. *** The hard floor did no favours to Mary as she woke from her uncomfortable and often interrupted slumber. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and stretched her stiff back. Taking a look at her surroundings, she reminded herself why she was and the events that transpired last night. The first order of business of her days was to plead once again with the guard. She tried to reason with him to let her go or at least let her know the whereabouts of her husbands, but the sentry would have none of it. He would insult her damaged reputation even further and deny her any right to anything she requested. She didn't deserve it. Returning to her corner an emotionally broken woman, Mary Best shrunk her body into itself and just wept. She cowered in the haplessness and fulity of her situation. The whole world seemed against her. The days ran hopelessly together like this that it difficult to keep track of the days of the weeks. She would wake up, cry, beg, pray to the Lord, and then prepare for the day. She was denied clothes, even when the sun went down and the chilly nightly air set in. She was verbally and physically harassed by the jailers as well the other male inmates, many of whom were accused of witchcraft themselves. She was beaten, strangled, and suffered much bruising and marring. The men had little concern for her health. For the men condemned to their death, Mary's slender body was a last crack at sexual fulfillment. At the end of the day, she would curl up against the wall a broken and defeated woman and pray. She'd pray for the men who systematically attacked her physically and psychologically. She would pray that God's providence would deal with them. Most of all she'd pray for once again seeing Will and having him her hold and reassure her. *** Betty had visited Mary on one bored occasion. She didn't meet with her. She only bore witness to one of the vile episodes the woman was currently enduring. It was such a raw and demeaning act, yet a complete turn on. Betty lifted her skirt to access her wet pussy. She pleasured herself to Mary's humiliation. She secretly and evilly wished for more on her former mistresses. She revelled in her fall from grace. When she returned home as the sole occupant of the Best house, she could not wait for Will to arrive. He was a good man with a kind, gentle soul. He had always treated her great dignity despite her lower social status. Many a time she secretly admired his beautiful body. His brown hair, his hazel eyes, his powerful upper body...such strength he possessed. He built the house and everything in it with his bare, rough hands. Betty longed to experience his rugged touch on her body; to be thrown onto the bed and just taken; to bear first-hand witness to his undoubtedly animalistic side... But her thoughts digressed...he would return to find his darling wife, currently suffering in a despicable jail cell, on the chopping block as the latest witch. As she ran her gentle fingers over his possessions and his furniture constructions, she considered his reaction. What would he say? What would he do? If he was the smart man Elizabeth believed him to be, he would distance himself from Mary as much as possible. After all, if attached himself to that woman, he risked his own condemnation as a witch himself. And this, for Betty, just wouldn't do. His beautiful body was only good to her alive. He would throw his own wife in front of the horses, she was sure of it. Whatever petty love the two shared would not be strong enough to save his own life. He'd be very reluctant and even hurt to add fire to the case against his wife, but this was all for the better. He would be saved and in a state which would be best suited to Betty's intentions. After all, a pain-ridden and vulnerable Will was most favourable to her. She imagined herself extending her embrace to him. She'd hold him and he'd hold her as they consoled each other about Mary's unfortunate fate. She would console him in the fact that as much as Mary treated her well enough, her obligation lay more with God than her mistress. Mary was a good woman, but the pious Mary Best ceased to exist up until a few days ago. Betty had to do what she had to do. This is what she told herself as she played with herself atop their bed. Moving aside the garments that covered her crotch, she felt the urged to attend to the feeling that so deeply overwhelmed. It was almost too powerful to handle. As she rubbed her fingers up and now, everything just got to her: the cunning plan, Mary's humiliation, finally having Will in her arms. Betty moaned. She had no remorse about ruining one life and altering another. When the sensation was apt enough, she let out a yelp. Not too loud though. There was no telling who was around. If anyone saw what she was doing, she very well could have been accused of the very things Mary was! That would not do at all. She took a moment to recover and picked herself off the bed. She straightened her dress and longingly went about her business.