The Witch Hunter

by Candace Adams

“Oh no sir, that couldn’t be! I’m just a barmaid and I help with the inn. I am no witch, I swear it!” her voice was raised, and her eyes went wide with fright.

  “Lower your voice girl,” I demanded. I pressed my body against her, and she turned her head away from me. “I should arrest you right now. Put a rope around those pretty wrists and lead you to the cellar where we keep the rest before trial.” I brushed my thumb down her cheek and pulled on her lower lip. “Should I arrest you?” I asked, pretending to care for her response.

  “Please, no sir,” she whispered this time. A tear rolled down her check and stopped on my fingers.

  “There might be something I could do to get your name off the list,” I whispered with my face in her hair. She turned her face towards me, my mouth was merely an inch from hers. “Do you want me to try?”

  She vigorously shook her head up and down, “Anything sir, I will do anything not to be hung as a witch!” I brushed my fingers across the tops of her breasts where they were not covered by her dress and she shivered under my touch. Her breasts heaved up and down with her heavy breaths and quickening heartbeat.

  “Anything?” I asked. She shivered under my fingertips.

  I opened my door and ushered her inside, slid the bolt home and locked us in. She stood before me, looking at the floor, her tears making wet trails down each side of her face. I crossed the distance to her and turned her around abruptly, making her cry out in surprise.

  I put my hand over her mouth forcefully. “Shut up. If you do that again, I will put you in shackles and I will lead you out of here bound. Do you understand?” She shook her head to indicate she understood.

  I removed my hand and she remained silent. I pulled the laces behind her that tied her bodice together and loosened the material enough to slide it up and over her head. She wrapped her arms around her front, covering the thin shift that concealed her breasts from me.

  “No need for modesty,” I told her. “I will see all of you soon enough.” She whimpered, pulling away from my touch. I turned her around so I could focus my attention on untying the string that held her skirt in place and soon it slid over her hips, onto the floor beneath us. She was down to her undergarments, with her back to me.

  “Turn around,” I ordered. “I want to look at you.”

  She did as I asked. Her knuckles were white as she clutched her shift with her chin down to her breasts. I tilted her head up with one finger until she was forced to look me in the eye. With both hands, I pulled her arms away from herself and placed them down to her sides. Her body trembled and her bottom lip quivered with silent sobs.

  “Have you been with a man yet, Elizabeth?” I asked her.

  “No, Sir. Papa says I need to wait until a good match can be made for me,” she said in a hushed voice. That made me smile. How extraordinary that I happened across a virgin.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Whatever I please.”

  I reached out and began undoing the buttons of her shift, revealing the valley between her twin mounds, moving farther down, until the garment laid open before me. I parted the halves and took in the lovely view. Her tiny pink nipples stood erect in the chilly room and my staff awoke in my trousers. I took both breasts in my hands and squeezed them hard. She bit her tongue to keep quiet.

  I pushed her back until the backs of her knees hit the bed, causing her to sit down. She put her hands out to brace herself. I lifted her feet, one and then the other, and removed her small slippers, tossing them to the floor. The only thing remaining on that lovely shivering body were her under garments. But I would remedy that. I took the bottom hems on both legs and slowly pulled them from her body revealing her glistening womanhood.

  Elizabeth clamped her thighs shut and tried in vain to cover herself, but I grabbed her knees and pushed them apart, opening her body to me. “You stay just like that,” I said. “Do not move.”

  I quickly removed my own clothing and her eyes went wide when my cock burst free.

  “I’ve never seen a naked man before,” she said, quietly. A lovely blush covered her face and neck. She turned her face away, squeezing her eyes closed.

  “Your choice, my girl. Either you help me empty my cock, or you get the rope. Which will it be?” She laid back upon the bed, having made up her mind.

  She looked up at the ceiling. “Will it hurt?”

  I took my member in my hand and stroked it softly looking over her young, beautiful, body. “Yes. I believe it will,” I said, smiling down at her.

  I crawled up the foot of the bed and ran my tongue up the inside of her cunt and tasted the juices inside. She jumped when my mouth touched her. Her hands were balled in the blanket under her ass. Such a feast laid out before me. I pressed hard with my face sucking her into my mouth paying special attention to the tiny nub at the top. I ran my hands up the insides of her thighs, pushing her legs further apart. I licked from the bottom to the top, each time taking her clitoris in my mouth and pulling, before starting back at the bottom again. She tasted so good I nearly exploded, just from this. I lifted my face covered in her musk. Her head was thrown back, and she was breathing hard.

  “Does it hurt so far?” I asked her, running my tongue up the tiny slit watching her reaction.

  “No Sir. It doesn’t hurt"

  “Do you like it?”

  She hesitated. Her eyes found mine. “Am I supposed to like it?” she asked earnestly.

  “Most women find this part pleasurable, yes,” I answered. I inserted my tongue inside of her and she lifted her hips from the bed, her eyes rolling back. “It looks like you like it,” I said.

  I raised myself up and took her mouth. She kissed me back when I pressed my tongue into her. Her wetness was covering my face and on my mouth. “Do you like the taste of yourself?” I whispered.

  I fondled her breasts as I kissed her, rolling her nipples between my fingertips. She moaned into my mouth passionately. “You said this would hurt,” she whispered.

  “The hurt has not come yet, lovely. It will.”

  I ran my hand down between her legs and pressed my fingers to the opening. It was small and unyielding thus proving her claims of virginity. She took a sharp breath as I inserted a finger into her. My cock was as hard as stone and I couldn’t wait any longer to sheath myself inside her.

  Bracing myself on both arms, I looked down into her face as I slammed my cock home. I wanted to see her face as I breached her. The scream that tore from her mouth was as glorious as the feeling of her thighs closing against me. I covered her scream with my mouth, and she cried out against my tongue.

  I pumped into her repeatedly, giving her no respite. Her maidenhood blood covered my shaft. She pushed at my chest, trying in vain to get free of me, but I had my prey. I took her wrists and held them down while I pummeled her. The pressure built up to a heated frenzy and I knew I was about to climax. I pulled my member out of her and shot my hot seed on her belly while she cried.

  I was spent. “See? That wasn’t so bad was it?” I asked her.

  “I think you may have torn me in half. I am bleeding. Am I going to die?”

  “Get dressed and get out,” I said. “If you tell anybody about this, I swear by all that is holy I will reveal you as a witch and tell everyone you seduced me to steal my soul for Satan.”

  She dressed in record speed and rushed out the door. I could hear her footfalls echoing down the hallway.

  I fell into a deep, restful sleep, my flaccid cock still coated in her blood.

  Chapter Nine

  Taryn

  Matthew was looking out the window when I awoke the next morning. He was dressed for the day already. A tray of food was at the foot of the bed with a jug of milk. “Good morning,” I said, gaining his attention from whatever had been occupying his mind.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you were awake,” he turned to me and smiled with warm affection.

  “Are you leaving?” I asked, picking up a slice of bread and butter off the
tray. The bread was the same home baked bread he had brought me last night and it was far better than anything I had ever tasted. The butter was amazingly creamy, and I would be perfectly happy to eat this bread and butter for the rest of my life.

  He stepped towards me and squatted beside the bed, so he was eye level with me. “I have to go. We did not finish our work yesterday because we found you. We only picked up the one woman yesterday.” He stood back up slowly. “Harold, the barkeep, knows you’re here and he will be sending someone to check on you throughout the day while I am out.”

  A soft knock rapped on the door, “Matthew, are you ready to go?”

  “That will be John,” he said. “Do you need anything before I go?”

  “Am I your prisoner?” I asked.

  “Heavens no! But please wait for me to come back before you leave here, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  “Matthew, the driver is waiting. Let’s go,” John called again, becoming a little more impatient.

  He opened the door, turning to me before making his exit. “I will be back as soon as I can, Taryn. I promise. When I return, I will do anything I can to help you figure this out and get you home.”

  “Ok.” I said as the door shut with a squeak behind him. I listened to their heavy, booted steps on the stairs, their muffled voices fading as they stepped further away.

  I looked around the small room and saw a wash pot sitting on a table with fresh towels laid out beside it. I took one and dunked it, wringing the cold water out. The water smelled of daisies and looking inside the bowl I saw the small white petals settled beneath the water. That explained why he smelled like flowers yesterday. I quickly wiped my body and face down and took to the task of dressing.

  It took me a few minutes to figure out the mechanics of the dress. It wasn’t the jeans and t-shirt I was accustomed to. I felt like an actress about to perform in a lead role, but no one was here to do my hair and makeup. I brushed my hair out with my fingers and gave myself a once over in a tiny mirror on the wall. Not bad for a first try.

  There was a faint knock on the door.

  “Hello? Who’s there?”

  I was a bit taken aback as Matthew had said he didn’t want anyone to know I was here, and he had advised me not to open the door for anyone. Then I remembered he told me someone would be checking on me. This must be that someone.

  “Elizabeth, ma’am.” It was a young woman’s voice. “Mr. Hopkins asked if I might check on you during the day. I work here in the inn. Is there anything you require?”

  I hesitated; I didn’t know if I could trust the girl.

  “Ma’am?” she asked again.

  “I’m sorry, yes, please come in.” I said loudly through the door. I quickly turned the bolt and backed away.

  The doorknob turned slowly, and the woman entered the room. She looked at the floor and twiddled her fingers in front of her. Her apron was dingy and stained, but she was a very pretty girl all the same.

  “It’s ok. I won’t bite,” I said.

  “Oh, forgive me Ma’am!” She looked up at me now. “But these are hard times, what with the witches causing all the trouble lately, and with the way you were brought in last night!” Her eyes were wide relaying the terror that most of the people in the town probably felt. “There has been talk! Not that I think you are a witch, but others have said as much just for the way you appeared as if by magic.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m just a woman like you. It is sad that a woman can have the label of being witch applied to her for such a little thing.”

  “Thanks be to God. I don’t think I would like to be bewitched,” she said. “Though I do know someone who would deserve it.” Her eyes went dark as if she were reliving a dark memory, but she shook it off quickly. “How can I help you Ma’am?”

  I sat down on the edge of the bed. “First, call me Taryn. I can't be more than five years older than you, and Ma’am sounds weird,” I said. Her shoulders relaxed; some tension left her body.

  “Secondly, I hate this stupid thing,” I said motioning to the dress I was wearing. “Could you please find me a simple pair of trousers and a man's shirt? I would be really grateful.”

  “Trousers?” she said incredulously. “Women don’t wear such things. You must come from a very strange place if the women wear trousers where you are from.”

  I smiled at her thinking of all the things I could tell her about the future and how things changed in the four-hundred years that separated us. “It could be our little secret. Please?”

  “The barkeep’s son works below cleaning tables. He’s not yet fully a man. His clothes would probably fit you better, although the pants may be long. I think he keeps a change of clothes downstairs for when he gets particularly messy. I could check for you?”

  “That would be very kind. Thank you. Could you also find me something to read? It looks as if I’ll be spending quite a bit of time in here and I don’t have anything to occupy my time.”

  “There are ledgers downstairs. Would that work?”

  “That would be perfect,” I replied.

  “I will be back in a moment.” She lifted her skirt and rushed out the door. She returned shortly after carrying the clothes and a leather-bound tome I had requested.

  “I hope he doesn’t notice they are gone,” she said, laying everything in my arms. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

  “Can you help me get this thing off? I’m still not entirely sure how it works.” I placed the items on the bed and tried to catch hold of the strings on the back of the dress, but I was fumbling miserably.

  Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “Are you royalty, Ma’am?”

  “Huh? Why would you think that?”

  She looked very unsure of herself. “Only a royal would not know how to dress herself. They have maids that do that for them.”

  “Would a royal woman request trousers?” I asked her with a giggle.

  She smiled, “I should think not.”

  “Well there you have it.”

  She helped me get the dress off and I tossed it into the corner. I was happy to pull the trousers up my legs, fastening the buttons expertly. The legs were long, but I could cuff them a few times to fix that problem.

  “You’re putting them on as if you have done it many times before,” she marveled at the speed that I did up all the buttons.

  I laughed again, if only she knew. You would be hard pressed to find me dressed up like a proper lady. I only wore dresses when it was necessary. “Well, where I’m from, most women don’t bother with dresses and finery. In fact, women do everything that men do.”

  “That sounds amazing,” she said.

  Her eyes were rimmed in red like she had been recently crying. “Are you ok Elizabeth?”

  “Oh yes Ma’am, I mean, Taryn. I was sitting by the fire and I got smoke in my eyes,” she turned her face away from me, trying to hide the redness.

  “You can be honest with me,” I said. “I won’t tell.”

  She looked at me and seemed to fight with herself to share her secret or to keep it safely locked inside.

  “I don’t think I should say anything about it,” she said very quietly. “Something bad will happen to me if I do.”

  My heart went out to her. Fear emanated from her, her eyes were a bit too wide, and her breath a bit too fast. The color drained from her face, and I could tell she really believed that she couldn't talk about it. I thought of Sam and how I used to trick her into telling me things that she did not want to, and it gave me an idea. “What if I told you a secret that you couldn’t tell anyone. Then would you tell me yours?”

  She thought about it for a moment and let out a sigh that was barely audible. “It would have to be a big secret.”

  I patted the bed next to me. “Oh, I have a really big secret,” she sat very close to me. “But you also have to promise not to tell anyone my secret, or something very bad could happen to me too,” I said.

  For bein
g a woman who looked to be close to my age, she had an almost childish quality to her. She was around my height and had thick long brown hair like my own. Her eyes were blue as ice, though. The kind of blue that made you think of winter snow more than blue skies. She had a very thin body but with womanly curves and large, full breasts. Men probably looked at her like they gawked at Samantha everywhere she went.

  “Do you want to go first?” I asked.

  “No. Will you? I’m afraid you won’t want to talk to me after you know,” she still didn’t fully trust me. I didn’t exactly know how to tell her my own secret either. She may not have wanted to talk to me after she heard it.

  “You know when Matthew carried me into the inn last night in his arms? He found me lying on the street, completely naked, and unconscious,” I started slowly, feeling her out to tell how far I could go with my tale.

  She batted her eyes. “I already knew that. Like I said when I came in, people have already been talking about the strange way they found you. That’s not much of a secret.” She placed her hands in her lap, pulling away from me slightly.

  I turned my body towards her. “That’s not the secret. The secret is that I am not from here. I’m not even from this time. I'm from the future.” That got her attention.

  “What do you mean the future?” she asked.

  “I’m from the year 2020. I was having dinner with my best friend and my teacher when I met a very wicked witch who sent me back here to punish me.” I wasn’t sure how much detail I should give her.

  She started laughing. “You have very good stories! Time travel? No witch I have ever heard of could do that kind of spell,” she started to stand. “I’m sorry I wasted so much of your time, but I should really get back to work or they won’t pay me for the day.”

  “No please, wait,” I asked her.

  She sat back down, smoothing her skirt beneath her. The pleading tone in my voice was enough to convince her to hear me out. “I'm telling the truth. My name is Taryn Julia Guthry. I was born in 1994, I am twenty-five years old. I was born in Boston, Massachusetts to Kathy and Scott Guthry. I attended college at Harvard University and my area of expertise is history. More specifically, the witch hunting era of the 1600’s.”