****** The Malefactoress by P. Apple ******
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The Malefactoress


My name is Abigale Foster and I write this in my personal diary to recount to
my descendants of a strange custom of my small village on the shore of a large
bay called by the local savages, Chesapeake. Having been abandoned by our
benefactor and founder, Sir Walter, years ago, we managed to survive many harsh
winters only with the help of our friends the local savages (I know not why we
refer to them so as were it not for their beneficence and knowledge in the ways
of this new world, we would surely by now have perished--no thanks to our
"benefactor," Sir Walter, who, if truth be known, would rather polish his
reputation with the Queen than care for our needs.)

At any rate, we found the locals to be such loyal and strong friends that we
slowly began to forego the culture of our homeland and adapt to their ways,
eventually merging our cultures to include marriages and families. In this
manner, born of the union of an English father and a Lumbi mother, I come by my
raven hair, high cheek bones, tan skin and eyes as blue as robin's eggs.

In spite of the strength and survival skills of our native friends, we (and I
say this at the risk of blasphemy) perhaps unfortunately succeeded in pressing
our puritan religious customs upon them such that the leader (or perhaps Ruler
might be more appropriate) of our small village for as long as I can remember
has been the self-appointed, self-righteous Reverend Godswill, who rules us all
with the iron hand of God. Although there exists a small group of local elders
supposedly responsible for administering the village affairs, in truth there is
not one among them with the gumption (or to use the native word "ko-hones") to
ever go against the Reverend and his right-hand man, God. Over time, scorn and
the Demon Rum have served to marginalize the influence of our native hosts now
mingled with us with regard to how our village is governed.

The month is May in the Year of Our Lord 1664 and I have only just attained my
fourteenth year. One of only a few children of my age in such a small village--
only three of us girls. I am taller than the other girls and even several of
the boys and seemed to have filled out beyond my years.

Thus it should have been a good time for me, except for the righteous custom
framed and laid upon us by Reverend Godswill. The Reverend is a tall, gaunt man
with long bony fingers, a large nose and small beady eyes set rather too close
in his pock-marked face. Up close he smells of tobacco and sour sweat with
breath most foul. That he should have been chosen by God to lead us in the path
of his Righteousness will be forever a mystery to me.

Several times a year (depending apparently upon the availability of young,
untouched girls) the Reverend declares it necessary to punish the most sinful
of young virgins by sentencing this Malefactoress, to spend the darkest,
moonless night of the month in the village Stocks.

The Stocks, as you may know, consist of two planks hinged at one end and with a
hasp at the other into each of which one large and two smaller half-round holes
have been cut to accept the neck and wrists of a hapless malefactoress such
that, when closed and fastened, the head and hands are securely trapped in a
very uncomfortable position for a period prescribed by law (in this case, the
Reverend) until the Devil's presence be purged from her body and soul. Somehow
the unfortunate girl is selected, seemingly by some unspoken consensus, but
usually the most comely among them, to become the next Malefactoress. By this
means came I to be the chosen one.

Thus for weeks leading up to my sentencing it seemed that I could do nothing
right. Tasks that I had always performed well and lessons that I had already
learned seemingly correctly in the past suddenly went awry. Not being mature
enough to handle this reversal of fortune, I became quite despondent and
demoralized. It almost seemed a conspiracy on every villager's part that I
should fail. And so, when the time came to select the most sinful girl it was a
foregone conclusion that that unfortunate wretch would be me.

The entire village assembled in the church (which was also the town meeting
hall) to hear the litany of specifications and charges brought against me by
the good citizens. I stood before them wearing our customary gray homespun
dress with long skirt and laced bodice with a white cloth secured with a black
ribbon over my raven locks trying my best to look contrite.

As the men watched me (a bit bright eyed, I thought) with bowed heads, some
furtively licking dry lips, even my dear mother was forced, tearfully, to
testify of some minor offences against me. I was destroyed, fully willing to
repent and accept my due punishment in the Stocks while the town prayed all
night behind closed shutters and doors for my Redemption.

Finally the good Reverend stood and placed his hot hand upon my bowed head to
pass sentence. "Daughter, yee have been found guilty of numerous offences, no
doubt a result of Satan within you, and must be duly punished in order that yee
be purged of His malevolence and regain your immortal soul. This night, in the
dark of the moon, yee shall spend in the Stocks until, by the light of dawn,
yee be made pure once more!"

I was lead forthwith to the center of the square where stood the dreaded Stocks
upon a small, raised platform. My weeping mother prevailed on the Reverend to
allow her and my older sisters to pad the holes with soft cloth to lessen the
chaffing. I noted my sister's faces cold with anger which at first I thought
despairingly was directed at me, but then I perceived the object of their
malevolence was the Reverend himself.

The women and children were directed to return home immediately and remain
inside behind locked doors and drawn shutters while Reverend Godswill and the
men and older boys gathered in the meeting hall for an all-night vigil to pray
for my deliverance.

The reverend led the men and boys into the meeting house and I was left alone
in the fading light. Soon the darkness of night deepened until only the faint
light of distant stars remained. Somewhere an owl hooted and far off a wolf
howled. I must admit I became frightened and felt very alone as I prayed most
earnestly to make it through this night. From the meeting house I could hear
Reverend Godswill and the men praying loudly. Slowly the praying became softer
until I could no longer hear it above the chirping of the crickets in the
grass.

As I stood clamped most uncomfortably and unable to move my arms or straighten
my back, shivering from the night chill, I suddenly became aware of shapes
surrounding me in the darkness. The Devil and his minions were upon me, surely!

Desperately I began repeating The Lord's Prayer over and over. "Our father
which art in heaven...."

Then I felt hot hands unlacing my bodice allowing my breasts to hang freely
beneath my bent body. The hands began to squeeze and massage them, a not
unpleasant sensation I must admit. Then two sets of wet lips touched my nipples
and began to suckle my teats like a ewe with lambs. I am ashamed to say that
this fondling induce a pleasure in me which in turn seemed to provoke a gentle
tension between my legs and I thought I could feel moisture forming. A moment
later I felt a demon in front of me who presented a stiff shaft of flesh with a
bulbous head.

A voice close to my ear whispered, "This is the flesh of my body, take it into
thy mouth and suck upon it." I could smell the fetid breath of the Devil
himself (strangely not unlike that of Reverend Godswill). Not knowing else to
do, I complied and began sucking on the horrid shaft.

With that he wrapped his hands in my hair and began to move his shaft in and
out in my mouth and deep into my throat as I sucked and tried between thrusts
to catch my breath. The flesh was hot and slippery and soon I tasted an acrid
fluid on my tongue.

My thoughts suddenly flashed back to the time I watched my brothers through a
crack in the wall of the wood shed as they played with such shafts which sprang
from their loins, spitting on them and rubbing their hands up and down them
until, with contorted faces, they groaned as a thick, white fluid spurted from
their tips. As I watched covertly my own hand reached up beneath my dress to
the tuft of hair between my thighs and began stroking and fondling the cleft
found there. It soon became quite moist as my own pleasurable excitement rose.
When at last I saw their white fluids spurting forth, I reached some sort of
climax of mine own and had to stifle a scream so as not to give away my
position.

Finally the demon groaned and removed his horrid instrument from my mouth and I
was able to spit out the vile fluid and cry, "Get thee behind me, Satan!"

My prayer was quickly answered in a most unexpected way. I felt the hem of my
dress and my petticoats being lifted up over my back and the cool night air on
my naked bottom (by custom I wore no underclothing for this occasion). Warm
hands felt and stroked my bare bottom as I listened to their heavy breathing.
Then a set of bony fingers moved up between my thighs to touch that part of me
which none save my own had ever before touched.

The fingers found a sensitive spot at the top of (I shall use the term I later
learned) 'my pussy', and began stroking it. Though I longed to resist, my body
soon betrayed me and I succumbed to the most wondrous of feelings.

A finger found the hole at the bottom of my pussy and began to run in and out
of its warm moistness resulting in a feeling so wonderfully intense that I
could hardly endure it. I began moaning with the pleasure of it and my legs
became so shaky I thought I must surely collapse. Two strong arms wrapped
around my hips lifting them as warm lips and a tongue enveloped my entire pussy
licking and sucking, then moved higher to lick and press into that other hole
from which turds come. I floated thus in a state between heaven and hell for
some time until the lips went away and were replaced by that enormous, stiff
shaft of flesh pressing into my pussy.

Its passage was impeded only briefly as it encountered that thin membrane which
we females are born with, but lose when we become women. After several painful
thrusts of the huge bulbaceous head, the membrane gave way as I screamed in
pain and was entered fully! It seemed that the shaft was never-ending, moving
deep into my belly to touch the back of my spine. Surely only the Devil himself
could be possessed of such a formidable instrument! He began to move it in and
out until I thought I would surely go insane from the pleasure of it. Then he
pulled it out entirely and I felt it pressing against that higher opening which
soon relaxed and gained him entrance.

This was a whole different sensation which seemed to awaken in me a carnal lust
which I cannot describe! I heard myself crying in ecstacy, "Oh, yes, Oh yes"
over and over at the savage movement of the enormous shaft up what I shall now
call 'my ass'.

Finally, the Devil's shaft was withdrawn from my ass and he moved around to
face me where I was made once more to suck upon it, wetted by my own juices,
until he groaned mightily and suddenly my mouth was completely filled with his
acrid fluid which spurted out from its tip in hot gushes against the back of my
throat!

Then his demons were released upon me! From that moment on until the break of
day my teats were continuously squeezed and suckled and I felt a fleshy shaft
in one or more of my body orifices at all times--sometimes two and even all
three at once as they totally had their way with me. My teats aching and my
tender flesh rubbed raw, I found myself uttering up every prayer and psalm I
could remember, imploring God for my Deliverance.

Sometime during that long night I experienced an erotic fantasy that three of
the demons were my own dear father and brothers. I knew in truth that this
could not be as they were in the meeting hall earnestly praying with the others
for my redemption. However, my thoughts returned to a time earlier in the year
when, unobserved I thought, I was bathing in the creek behind our house.
Suddenly I looked up and saw my father and brothers watching me. Quickly, out
of modesty, I submerged my bare body and attempted to conceal myself behind
some rushes along the bank. I remember my brothers watching in seeming awe,
while my father's look seemed to me one of sorrow. (This was shortly before my
observation of my brothers behind the shed.) We never spoke of this incident
and I had near forgotten it until this moment.

I well knew that such activity with my own father and brothers in real life
would be an unthinkable perversion, but in my present situation I could do
nought to dissuade these demons so I decided there could be no greater harm
were I to indulge my own fantasy this night. Thus under the spell of my fantasy
I resolved that I should endeavour to service my father and brother demons to
the very best of my abilities.

I cried out, "Demons three! Though you would have me believe that you are my
own dear father and brothers, I know that you are not as they are in the church
earnestly praying for me and thou art indeed demons. As such you may have your
way with me completely this night as there is nought that I may do to prevent
it."

The effect of this statement on the demons seemed to relieve them of any
restraints they may have had and drove them into a frenzy of wicked activities
in which, I must admit, I partook most fully, all the while regretting that the
constraints of the Stocks prevented more active participation of my tortured
body as they vented their lust upon me in every conceivable way. My own
passions became fully aroused and I must confess that I became quite wanton as
I tried mightily to please them.

Finally I was sucking most energetically upon my father demon's shaft in my
mouth when he groaned filling it with hot gushes of his fluid, while the two I
perceived as my brothers had somehow mounted me and inserted their shafts both
at once deep into my pussy and ass and were pumping most vigorously (an action
I later learned was called by the vulgar term 'fucking').

I responding to their thrusts with a grinding of my ass and active contraction
of my ass hole and pussy muscles upon their shafts so as to provide the most
intimate of contact, all the while crying out in pleasure. In truth, I am
ashamed to admit, I was enjoying this fantasy fucking greatly.

Thus I was extremely gratified when I felt both of the demons gush their hot
fluids inside my pussy and my ass, and I fancied that I heard my brothers
moaning plaintively, "Oh, Abbie, we've waited so long!"

Of course, demons are known to be manipulative shape-shifters and can imitate
anyone's voice. Then my own passions broke over me overwhelming me in an
ecstasy the intensity of which I had never dreamed possible!

The sucking, fucking and tormenting of my poor body continued throughout the
dark night until at long last the gray light preceding dawn appeared in the
eastern sky and the Devil and his disciples retreated. A short time later I
heard the voices of Reverend Godswill and the others in the meeting house
raised in earnest prayer for my repentance.

Soon my mother, my sisters and the other women of the village appeared to
soothe and comfort me. They salved and bound up my sore, aching teats once more
in my bodice and covered my naked bottom with my skirt and petticoats.

The door of the common house opened and the good Reverend, his Bible in his
hands, and the men and boys filed out. They appeared totally spent from the
great effort they had expended in my behalf.

The Reverend looked at the slime around my mouth and in my hair and ears and
that which had run down my thighs filling my shoes as well as the puddles of
vile slime on the ground beneath my face and bottom (now covered once more by
my skirt and petticoats) and intoned, "Ye have done well, daughter, ye are
truly rid of that wretched Devil and are amongst us once more."

Then he opened the hasp of the stock and I was able, with the help of my mother
and sisters, to straighten painfully and walk slowly with their support to our
dwelling where I was given sustenance and allowed to sleep uninterrupted for
two days.

When I awoke I found my father sitting beside me with a look of loving concern.
He kissed my hand and then my forehead. After father left, my two dear brothers
approached haltingly bearing bouquets of fresh flowers.

"We hope you are feeling better, Abby," said James, the oldest.

"Yes, we are very sorry," said John, the younger.

"My own dear brothers, none of this was your fault, you are not responsible for
my demons," I told them.

Then they both kissed my forehead and I kissed both of them and bade them leave
for now so that I could sleep once more.

----------

As I write of this accursed custom and my experience in my diary I fear that
even now I carry the Devil's spawn in my belly which is swelling daily with it.
I can only pray that it is a boy and not a girl who will eventually have to
experience my recent ordeal.

Even now I perceive that the next Malefactoress has been chosen by the
consensus, Polly McKenzie, a lovely, jolly girl of fourteen years with bright
red braided hair and a smiling freckled face.

My heart goes out to her as I recognize the growing scorn and the misdeeds
being attributed to her, and watch her spirit waning as she tries to understand
"why me?"

Why indeed! By custom I am sworn to secrecy so I may not warn her. God moves in
mysterious ways, his wonders to disclose.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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